Home.

I haven't blogged since last Wednesday?
I must've been busy or something.
Thursday night Sandra came over and packed up the remaining items in my kitchen, dining room and living room. Then took a load in her van (while I took one in my truck) over to my mom's place.

Thank you, Sandra. Two is better than one; we got alot accomplished that evening.

On Friday I took my first flex day.
(Meaning I got the day off with pay.)
(I get 5 of those each year.)
(Best place to work. Ever.)

So I used that day to sleep in One Last Time in that house.
And then continue packing like a crazed woman.
So. Many. Things.
So. Many. Things that I don't like, need or want anymore. So many things that aren't mine.

That evening, I took at 3 hour break and saw the Lone Ranger.
Which was good escapism. I'd give it a 6.5/10

When I got home, Drew and his buddies were eating the contents of my fridge. Frozen Pillsbury Sugar Cookie dough and Cream Soda.
It wasn't surprising that immediately after that, they played on the hoist:

(Notice how much stuff is still in the garage, needing to be packed up.)

Saturday morning started at 7 am for me.
Which is like, the middle of the night in Jane Mountain Time.

My last selfie in my bathroom mirror:

Nope. Not smiling.
It's early.
And I'm not really ready for the movers.


During the week, I'm the project manager for various creative projects at work. I do pretty well in that position. On Saturday I was the project manager of The World's Ugliest, Longest Move project.
(Not 'longest' in distance, but in the time it took to complete the move.)
And it was an epic fail.

I own too many things.

Too many things that I don't care about.

Mid-way through the day, Max took another load to the dump. (Yes, sorry future generations. I added a gazillion pounds of crap to the local landfill site this week. Global warming and overpopulation and the saggy economy are all my fault.)

Right.
Back to the move.

Moving things that a person doesn't love anymore is a painful experience.

The moving guys were done packing everything they could fit into the truck by noon.

It was one of those big trucks. And it was full, front to back, top to bottom. Not another thing would fit.

So that left me with 'one or two' small loads to remove from the property. One to the lake. One to my mom's.

I SO suck at estimating how big something is and if it'll fit into something else.

We were still moving crap at midnight.
I took a load to the lake at 8:00 pm, dropped it off, turned around and met, Drew, Brett and Mandi at 10:30 so we could each take another load to my mom's.

And after that?

Drew and Brett went back for TWO MORE LOADS (!) whilst I stayed at mom's and put my room together. 

Saturday night?

Best. Sleep. Ever. In the History of All Sleeps. 

The basement? Is like, ice cold. As in, 60 degrees Fahrenheit. And quiet. And there's a queen-sized bed down there. A new one. And I added my memory foam mattress on top of that. Plus all my favorite fluffy bedding. And 29 pillows. And because my body is in training for the Sitting-at-a-desk-all-day-and-thinking Marathon, it was rebelling loudly at all the lifting and carrying and walking it had to do for 19 hours - so I plugged in the heating pad and tucked it under my back which is the best feeling ever. 

And then I slept for 10 solid hours. 

No one started their diesel truck right outside my bedroom window. No one yelled at their kids or barking dog. No one started up their lawnmowers, dirt bikes or chain saws. It was dead quiet. 

Today?

I went back to the house, one last time. To clean it and to pack up One Last Load of Things I Hate. 

I cleaned and prayed through each room. 

Thank you God, for this house and the years we lived in it. 

Thank you for this huge entrance. And all the friends who have entered our lives and our house through this front door. These past ten years have been rich with new relationships. This house and the memories in it have been a gift. Thank you.

Thank you for this living room. 

Thank you for the gatherings we've had in it. Book club meetings, writing group meetings, tea n talks, crying talks, sharing good ideas talks, planning holidays talks ... So Many Good Conversations in this room. I hope you were pleased by our talk. Thank you for everything about this room. It was my favorite one.

Thank you for this dining room.

I loved everything that happened in this room too. So many good family dinners. So much laughter around this table. Also, so many fun, creative craft nights took place here too. THANK YOU for friends who like to make things. And teach others how to make things. Thank you for creativity, in general. Thank you for the memories that were made around this table. 

Thank you for this kitchen. 

So many meals prepared here, each one made with love, for the people I was feeding.

Sadly, also, so many fights in this room too. If angry words were going to be said, it usually started here. 

Looking back, there were probably two reasons:

1. Oboys are grumpy when they're hungry. If they're going to lose it over something, it'll usually be partially because their stomachs are empty and there was No Good Food in This House.

2. This room was always a mess and if I was going to ask for help with anything, it was with keeping this room clean. 

God? I hope we didn't grieve you too much when we were at our worst in this room.

Sorry I didn't use it better for Your Glory. I suck at kitchen stuff. You already know that...

THANK YOU FOR THIS FAMILY ROOM.

And for all the memories in it. Youth group meetings. Overnighters with friends. Nintendo nights. Christmas mornings. Movie nights. So many good things. All gifts from You. thankyouthankyouthankyou

Thank you God, for these bedrooms. For the dreams we dreamt. For prayers we cried. For the conversations we shared. 

These past ten years have been full and rich and warm and wonderful.

They've also been years with pain and growth and hurt and sadness. 

In addition to fabulous memories, there are pain-filled ones too. 

Thank you God, for holding our hands through them all. 

We all live in separate houses now. 

The next place I move into will just be mine. 

That feels weird. 

And a little bit lonely.

God? I'm trusting that You have a good plan for this next stage of my life.

The last one was good - so with Your track record, I'm not too worried. 

Amen.

After I finished cleaning, I locked er up for the last time, drove over to Walmart to buy my dad another Blu Ray DVD player (he keeps wrecking them) then visited with him for awhile. I let him know I'd moved. Into the basement of the house he built for mom. 

He liked that.

Home Sweet Home.

Three things I'm thankful for:

1. I'm loved.
2. I'm finished with that move.
3. It's summer.

Shalom,