There is so much about which to write.  So much, in fact, that I can't even think of where I might begin.  So, I'll say that we're here.  The truck is unpacked.  The only thing left to do (other than actually cover the pool) is to have the last of the things in the front yard (currently labeled "free") picked up by the garbage man on Friday morning (the closing is Friday at 2).  Oh, and to make sure that the realtor gets the key I sent in the mail today.  That's all that's left to be done at the house, anyway.  As for what's left to be done here...oh my gosh.  Let's not talk about it.

The weekend...was horrific.  From not getting everything loaded on Friday (meaning a trip back on Sunday afternoon to get the rest of the crap), to one of my gymnasts having a siezure (or something...never really heard the details on that) while at the Tour of Gymnastics Superstars in State College, Pa on Friday night, to getting here on Saturday and having the house completely full of furniture and absolutely filthy...all I have to say is Thank God My Parents Were Here.  It was so bad at this house that we had to stay at a hotel on Saturday night--we didn't get anything unloaded at all until Sunday.  I spent the whole time we were here on Saturday fluctuating between silent/angry and sobbing/devastated.  To say it was horrible would be a dramatic understatement.

I'm exhausted.  Pretty sure that's the state I will live in for the next few weeks.  My to-do list tomorrow never ends.  And I want to get the kids started back into something of a routine eventually...which will include school.  They actually asked about when we would start again today.  Of course, if they don't go to sleep pretty darn soon, I may strangle all of them, and then school won't really be an issue, will it?  Honestly, I don't know that a "normal" bedtime will ever settle in here until I get my act together throughout the day.  Our schedule has undergone such serious upheaval, they don't even know which end is up most of the time.  They suddenly look at the clock and say, "Mom, it's 11.  We missed snack.  Can we eat something??" or "Did you want us to get ready for bed, Mom?" and it's already 9.  Sigh.  I never thought I would need to be the one to figure out the woodstove, but I have found myself all day today suddenly thinking, "Oh my gosh, the fire!!" and running to find out what was left inside the stove.  And hauling in armfuls of wood.  And wondering if it's going to stay warm enough in here tonight as the wind gusts at 45 miles an hour and the snow comes down...there have been power outages all over the area all day, or so the postmaster at our local post office told me (between her three calls to neighbor/friends while I stood there with her).  She was a blessing, though.  Told me where to shop, where to find things, and how to get things started here on many fronts.  There is something to be said for life in a small town.  In the meantime, the kids and I had to pick fallen trees and limbs off the road on our road in order to pass today...not sure I'm cut out for life like this.  For the record, there is no Super Walmart in my town.  Or anywhere remotely near my town, for that matter.  And also, for the record, High School Musical 3 rocked.  We took the kids to see it last night to make up, somewhat, for the fact that I've ignored them for a month.  Or more.  Sigh. 

The screen door on the side porch keeps banging.  Reasa isn't asleep yet.  I can't think straight, or convince myself I should go to bed alone in this house.  Seth is in Harrisburg ...night number 3 in this house...ugh.  The dog won't settle down, which is always disconcerting, and I'm trying to gather the courage to go out the back door and drag more wood into the house for the night and the morning...I will get used to all of this, right?? 

And so is my living room.  And my kids' rooms still have stuff in them.  A lot of stuff.  Oh, and the fridge and freezer are still in the house. 

How did we get this much CRAP??? 

And would anybody like some of it???

AAK!

The phone rang at about 3:30 this afternoon.  My aunt calling.  If you're just joining me here...hi!!...my aunt is my realtor...and things keep popping up...things that we don't expect, things that throw a wrench in the works...and keep us from closing when we should, or other such nonsense.  Yesterday, we thought we would have to close on Friday, and be out of here tomorrow.  Aak!!  Well...the call today...(after the call from the lawyer's office assuring me it wouldn't happen until Tuesday-ish)...solidified the fact that it certainly wouldn't happen this week.  Apparently, Aunt Julie got a call from the buyer's realtor, explaining that the appraiser's report (from, umm, a month ago?) detailed the fact that there was a potentially hazardous electrical situation in the upstairs bathroom--the light above the shower/sink included an open bulb situation, which is a shock hazard.  The buyer's lender stated that it would not loan the money to the buyer unless this situation was remedied, and further examined by the appraiser.  Sooooo...we need to replace the light fixture in the bathroom, the appraiser comes again, and THEN, the lawyers can decide when we can close. 

Are you KIDDING ME???

Umm, let's see.  Replace the light fixture in the bathroom (for $11 or so), or say, "No way!!  We just paid over $200 in title insurance yesterday so we could sell this freaking house...forget it!!  Tell them we won't do it.  Don't bother to send that appraiser back.  Screw finding a closing date."  Yeah.  I told her to tell them to get the appraiser back here as soon as possible--we would fix the thing tonight.  It was a 10-minute job (well, other than me running to Home Depot and not being able to find the fixture Seth wanted.  Go figure.).  Today, it only took 2 hours to get from start to finish with the game of phone tag (because this required three calls to Seth and three with my aunt to get things straightened out)...and the appraiser will be here tomorrow sometime between 12:30 and 2.  We'll be here.  Let's get this done.  Schedule the dang closing, for crying out loud. 

No matter.  We're moving on Saturday.  Seth's actually thinking he's going to get the truck loaded on Friday while the girls and I are gone.  Can you imagine, leaving the full house at 2pm on Friday, watching one of your favorite things with several of your favorite people for a few hours, and coming home at 1am Saturday to an empty house, to sleep in sleeping bags???  I really don't want that to be how it works...I really want to be here when things are loaded...but I have a feeling I should just shut my mouth and let him do what needs to be done.  I'll be the one cleaning the place on Saturday morning while they go down and start to unload.  Yuck.  And let's not think about what it looks like down there!! 

So, if all goes well, we should close on Tuesdsay.  Guess what I'm going to say?  Yep.  I'll keep you posted.

After a bit of a panic yesterday--ok, three hours of panic--it looks as though we will close at the beginning of next week.  Originally, this would have frustrated me, because it wasn't the plan.  However, upon finding out that we wouldn't know whether or not the closing was taking place until today...two days before the possible closing...and that the new owners take possession at closing, well, pushing off the closing until the beginning of next week is definitely the better option.  I want it to be done and over with...but, I do want to be able to have some help carrying my refrigerator out of the house (and by having some help, I mean some help for Seth.  I'm not lifting a fridge, thank you), and if we were closing on Friday, that would leave Seth and me putting everything in a truck by ourselves tomorrow.  Closing on Monday allows us to get stuff out of the house on Saturday, and if all goes well today, tomorrow, and Friday morning, we should be mostly ready for that.  Of course, if I stand here avoiding the packing that still needs to be done and allow my children to run amuck as I did yesteray, that will never happen. 

Funny how good I am at avoiding what needs to be done.  Funny how easy it is to procrastinate as the deadline gets closer and closer.  Interestingly, I know it will get done.  It is almost done.  Frankly, I'm about ready to walk through the house with one of the really big boxes we were so blessed to receive and just start tossing stuff in.  Screw this whole sorting process.  I've had enough with being organized, labeling boxes for "storage" or "This box contains every glass I own.  Please don't drop this box.  "  (Really.  I wrote that on the box.  Ask my husband).  The china is packed in bubble wrap.  The school supplies, games and toys are all in totes and tubs.  My kitchen is packed other than the stuff I use every single day.  Everything else...whatever.  Toss it in a box.  Let's get this show on the road.  After the girls and my mom and I go to see the Olympic Gymnastics Team on Friday night in State College, that is. 

Nothing like cramming one more thing in.

And is anybody else going to see High School Musical 3 this weekend???  We have big plans...it's all just another part of me pretending all of this isn't ripping my heart out of my chest and stomping on it.  Fill the time...cram it full...denial is a wonderful thing.

Completely Surreal.

Today was our last Sunday as official attendees at Victory.  I don't know how quickly that reality will actually set in.  Interestingly, the same Sunday we knew that was happening, we also realized that in two weeks, we'll be back...for my nephew's baby dedication (wonder if I'll be making a cake for that??).  On Saturday, we (should) officially become residents of a small town in PA (or thereabouts).  That fact will make it very difficult to be an actual, active attendee at a church 90 miles away. 

How does one deal with that?  I mean, obviously, you don't actually break those ties that have bound you to a place for 10 years.  You don't walk away and forget, or ignore them, or pretend they don't exist any more.  At the same time, you also realize that things won't be remotely the same.  The wonderful "last words" my Worship Pastor spoke about me during small group time this morning were just that:  last words.  Sure, we'll be back to visit.  Sure, we'll make the occasional phone calls, we'll have a few visits from friends over the next few months...because, you see, I have found some of my dearest friends at my church.  But I've done this moving thing before.  Many times.  I know that the reality will prove exactly what it has always proved to be in the past.  Reality.  I hate the thought that over the next several months, our lives will all drift...we will do what we need to do.  We'll move on.  Of course we will miss each other.  We will think of each other often.  But the people I adore, the people who have been such a huge part of my life here, though merely a phone call or a text message or an hour-long drive away, will get used to us not being around.  We will become engaged in adjusting to life where we live.  We'll get involved with a new church, a new homeschooling co-op.  We'll meet people at the library, at the park (sigh.  the thought of finding those things...).  We'll all get busy.  And then...we'll move on. 

I'm so not ready to move on. 

Limbo is an awful place to live. 

Just another one of the millions of things I'm going to miss.  I should be counting.  Or making a list.  The thought of leaving after living here for for 10.5 years...it's amazing the number of things I've realized I'll miss.  And how much I'll actually miss them.  Especially considering that I've never, ever before now lived in one place for 10 years.  And though we haven't lived in the same place the whole time we've lived here, we have lived here.  Maybe I'm silly.  Maybe sentimental.  I have never claimed to be more than silly or sentimental.  Read any of my past blog entries?? 

I'll miss my parents.  Ugh.  This house.  The way the steps squeak in the morning when I'm trying to get downstairs without waking the kids up so that I can have that quiet hour of devotions and showering and laundry-folding and dishwasher-emptying before they've stirred (I'll miss the dishwasher).  The layout of the furniture...exactly where I want it (at the moment)...the new microwave...the hide-away toy cabinets.  The big family room.  The paint in the living room.  The piano in the entryway.  The way the bell jingles on the back door every time you open or close it.  The doors upstairs that don't latch.  I'll miss the Y.  The familiar drive from here to Walmart (umm, 1.3 miles away).  Here to my parents' (1 mile away).  Here to church (under 3 miles).  Here to the mall.  I'll miss roadrunner high-speed internet.  Our fenced back yard.  The swingset and the pool.  The 10-minute walk to the great park in Riverside.  The 10-minute drive to 10 other great parks in the area.  Knowing that I can call a friend and meet her with her kids at any one of those parks in 10 minutes.  I'll miss the neighbor's stupid, late-leaf-shedding oak tree that dumps its leaves into my yard well after I've raked everything else, and long after it's warm enough to jump in a pile (generally after the first snow). I'll miss the zillions of squirrels that dig up my tulip bulbs and skitter across our fence, and watching Chani chase them as fast as she can across the street and up the neighbor's trees...from the time they first venture out of their nests, until the day she chases them up and they eventually fall back down (yes, it's happened--though I'm sure it had nothing to do with Chani).  I'll miss having neighbors close enough to establish friendships with my kids...and having neighbors who want to do that...and having neighbors, for that matter.  I'll miss knowing that if my car battery fails me (and with children who leave doors open and lights on, it hapens), I can make any one of 20 phone calls and have some wonderful friend there to help me within 5 minutes...even if Seth is out of town.  I'll miss Victory.  Knowing my kids' security number for the children's ministry department by heart, because it's the same one we've had for 9 years. 

The list doesn't remotely do justice to the reality of the situation.  Not even close.  My heart aches with it.  My mind reels.  It's beyond exhausting.  Add that to the packing, the sorting, the running and cake-making...remember my "bored" post a couple of weeks ago?  Ha. 

And I do know that when we get there, when we've made the transition, when the adventure really begins...we will adjust.  I will learn to love aspects of living there.  But I'm leaving this.  Now. 

And I hate it.

The "cabin" sits in Hughesville somewhere.  On something like 7 wooded acres.  Up a dirt road ("well maintained," I'm told).  3 bedrooms, bath and a half, family room, living room, eat-in kitchen.  Knotty pine walls and wood floors...no closets, but we'll make due. 

It's six months, right??

We can move in as early as next Monday.  Still don't have a closing date, though I did get a call from our realtor last night, assuring me that our lawyer has done what he needs to do to keep the ball rolling, and that she'll be calling the buyer's lawyer today to find out what the hold-up could be.  We're really hoping we still close on the 24th...but we'll see.  In the meantime, I'm packing, and avoiding, sorting and packing some more.  Today I tackle the kids' clothes.  Ugh.

you know how in disney movies, fairy tales, jane austen novels, every sitcom ever finale-d, and ancient tom and jerry episodes, things turn out as you expect them to turn out?  the good guy wins.  the bad guy loses.  the boy gets the girl.  oh, sure, there's drama.  there are kinks along the way.  people screw up, wind up in the wrong place at the wrong time, don't get an opportunity to explain themselves...or don't take the opportunity (don't you want to slap them when they do that??).  BUT...the ending?  yep.  it's happy. 

here's the reality:  life is not a disney movie.  it's not a fairy tale, a jane austen novel, or a sit-com.  oh, sure, we like to think it will all work out as we thought it would...thought it should, even.  not so.  nothing goes quite as planned.  nothing turns out as we expect.  well, almost nothing.  you can rest assured that if something crummy is expected...yeah, you know what i'm going to say, don't you?

we planned to just rent that townhouse.  riiiiight up until the point that Seth got thinking about how small it really was.  and that in addition to the pretty darn high rent, we would have to rent a pretty big storage unit to keep our stuff.  a lot of our stuff.  so, realizing he was less than thrilled with that option, he sought out a couple of other options--one of which he was extremely excited about.  we've been waiting to hear from that option all day because of his excitement yesterday.  then today, he got another call, and made another visit.  so excited was he about this house, he told me to come see it.  i tossed the kids in the car and met him an hour and 15 minutes from our house (with just enough time to spare to look through it, drive home, and get Bryson to soccer practice by 5:30).

i walked in the back door of the place, and literally almost turned around and walked back out.  and the thing is, i knew, right then, that i had broken his heart.  worse...i made my husband feel that he had failed me.  sound melodramatic?  you should see him tonight.  an absolute mess.  he truly thought he had found the place. 

i've turned into a snob.  we've lived in this adorable, spacious house for five years.  i love this house.  it is nothing spectacular, really--just a house.  it desperately needs updating, needs work...needs sheetrock, for crying out loud...but i love my house.  i absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt, with absolutely no exageration, hated the house we walked through today.  with a bloody passion.  every wall was paneled.  In addition to being paneled (and we're not talking painted-over paneling, as, admittedly, you'll find all through the first floor of my house.  we're talking wood-grain), many of the walls were paneled to chair rail-height and then wallpapered to the ceiling.  horrible, hideous 1970's wallpaper.  humungous, garish flowers.  the linoleum in the (spacious) kitchen/dining area was scratched, scuffed, dug, and ground...and filthy to boot.  every ceiling in the first floor was a drop ceiling, with dingy tiles...and a few raw wood beams.  the appliances easily date back to the late 70's, along with the carpeting.  don't even get me started on the carpeting.  the bathrooms (2.5)...oh my gosh.  i guess i have set my standards too high...but honestly, i don't think it's too much to ask that in a rental property where we plan to live, my children and i should be able to walk around barefooted without fearing filth.  i don't believe in shoes inside my house.  and for the price this person is asking, and the fact that they require at least a six-month lease...i just shook my head in disbelief.  unfortunately, to add insult to serious injury, it's 15 minutes from civilization.  up a hill my little car will not climb in the dead of winter.  20-25 minutes (at least) from walmart or groceries.  i'm a city girl.  it's just truth.  this is not a happy prospect for me.  and the church we're looking at?  39 miles away.

ouch.

i will say this for the place...the scenery?  unreal.  plenty of space.  a homeschooling room, even.  we could put our camper there, all of our stuff would fit somewhere...there are horses on the property, and 3 outbuildings to which we would have full access.  it sits on 100 acres on the top of a mountain, basically.  Seth was willing to overlook the "rough spots" in favor of "all the pluses."  apparently, we have very different ideas as to what "pluses" include. 

so.  here we sit.  back to the drawing board.  the other place we haven't heard back about?  he forgot to mention that the kitchen and living room were the two rooms in the basement--concrete floor and cinderblock walls--that though there are two stoves (yay for cakes!), there may not be a dishwasher, and there are no laundry hook-ups.  and there are no closets in any of the rooms at all.  if the price is right?  i guess those things don't matter.  whatever.  and they don't want a lease, per se.  but...we still haven't heard from them.

sigh.  i'll keep you posted.

One beautiful, very beige townhouse...three bedrooms, two and a half baths, small, but liveable. 

We'll take it.

And quick. 

Now to pack the house, and figure out what won't fit in the townhouse...and what I can live without for up to six months (or at least that's the goal).

The house is a no-go.  The realtor said there was no possible way that house was worth it for us.  Sigh.  Well, at least we have an answer.  Now, we just have to keep looking.

As for a place to rent, Seth made the call, the guy didn't get back to him.  OK.  He drives through the town tomorrow, and he's hoping to be able to stop in and see what he can find.  Frankly, I feel like saying, "It doesn't matter what you find.  Rent something.  We have to move next weekend."  Tomorrow, I need to actually pack something.  I don't know what, really.  Maybe the kids' closets and bookshelves.  Dress-up clothes in the attic.  Need to remind my brother and his wife that we have to move next weekend, and their stuff in our attic has to come out of there too...oooh...forgot all about that (Kev and Jenn, if you read this...argh!!  I didn't even think about that until right now!).  No pressure or anything.  On any of us. 

Holy heck.

Two leads on possible houses to rent.  And Seth is taking "our" realtor to the house we looked at a week or so ago...to see if he thinks it's worth it for us to buy and make work for us (eventually).  This house, as it sits, has no kitchen, but tons of potential.  We both fell in love with it when we looked at it.

Frankly, we should buy the place, if just for that reason.  We don't agree on anything when it comes to houses.  No, really.  Anything.  I like quaint and cozy and houses with "character."  In his mind, "character" translates to "needs work."  Unfortunately, he's usually right in that respect, but I hold to my preferences, none-the-less.  He likes cookie cutter.  He likes built-after-1960.  He likes split-level ranches.  Ick.  Holy boring.  The house we found...beautiful woodwork, original wood floors, large bedrooms with nooks and crannies (coolest closets and little rooms off the bedrooms), a claw-foot tub and humungous shower...and the no kitchen thing, in my mind, actually, to me, means, "I get to design my own!!"  And Seth agreed. 

Soooo...once again...prayers welcome.

Three weeks ago today, we received an offer on the house--full price, contingencies being a home inspection, their ability to secure financing, and a closing date of Oct. 24.  Two weeks ago Thursday, we had a home inspection (4 hours!!), resulting in the buyer's need to have the furnace inspected.  A week ago yesterday, they sent out an inspector to look at the furnace.  On Monday, we received notification that though the inspection had been completed, the heating inspector couldn't give a quote, so we needed to have the guy come out and quote replacement of the heating system in the house.  He showed up Tuesday.  On Wednesday, we received notice from our realtor that they had a quote, and they would like half the cost of the heater from us put toward the cost of the house--$1400, basically--and the offer on the house stood.  Yesterday morning, we signed paperwork.  The house closes in three weeks.

Since we have nowhere to live at this point...and we've been looking, trust me...we would appreciate your prayers.  Not sure what we're going to do there...I know God will provide...I'm just not sure what he's going to provide. 

My friend, Dee?  Yeah, she's my hero. 

On Wednesday of last week, I went shopping at the very last minute for a pair of jeans acceptable to wear to a company outing I needed to attend with Seth.  After trying on (and no, I'm not kidding) 22 pairs of jeans (at 3 different stores) in an hour, I actually found two pair that I thought were acceptable, and were even on reasonable sale.  I couldn't believe my luck.  That never happens.  And the jeans...well, they fit when I tried them on...however, as I wore them throughout the day on Thursday, I found that they didn't actually fit all that well.  I don't spend an awful lot of money on clothes...or at least, I don't spend an awful lot of money on any one item, or two as the case may be, and I spent more on these jeans that I have spent on any two articles in a long time.  To say I was disappointed...well, that would be an understatement.

I still needed jeans.  The current jean situation in my house...not good. 

We decided today was a good day to shop for Halloween costume supplies...and since Bryson plans to be Super Mario...well, I'm not making coveralls.  Call me crazy.  We made a trip to our friendly neighborhood Salvation Army--there was no way I was buying new--he won't wear them ever again, I can almost guarantee it.  I'm not kidding when I say that we walked into the store and found blue coveralls immediately--and even in his size.  For $2.  Because it was family day--50% off everything except pink tagged items.  Because, you know, Salvation Army prices aren't low enough already.  :)  Anyway...each of the girls found something...Laine found a GK leotard for $.50, and Reasa found a top...I think it was $1.  We wandered toward the front of the store, and ran into my friend Dee with her Mom and her three girls.  They had already been there a while...and she had made her rounds.  She commented that she had found a couple of pairs of jeans--one was Gap, and both were in great shape, but they weren't her size...she wondered if they might fit me??  She led me back to the rack, I held them up and they looked pretty close to my size...and I bought them.  Umm, they were $2 a pair.  If they didn't fit...I bet they would fit my sister. 

They both fit.  So much better than the two pair I bought last week.  And no stretch.  Do you try to find jeans with no stretch?  It's impossible.  Seriously.  Impossible.  Two new pairs of jeans.  $4.  On a total whim.  With Dee's wonderful suggestion.  Thank goodness for dear friends. 

Thanks, Dee!!  Hooray for two pairs of jeans I can actually wear!!  It may not sound like a big deal, but considering fall requires jeans (and Sunday mornings now do as well)...this is big.