Due to certain, er, issues, we’re stepping up our game a bit.

Let the move begin!

Ha—this is the second house I’ve lived in that I’ve stated, vehemently, that I’M NOT MOVING AGAIN. NOT.

Ah, well. Things change, right?

And for those wondering about all the actual work posts, well, school started and so our schedule changed. We can only work at the farm on the weekends now, which gives us approximately 50 days to finish the prep before we fully make the move. That’s not counting “snow” days when we can’t travel down there.

Remember last winter? We bought the place sight-unseen because we couldn’t get to it and were afraid someone else would snap it up. So, there’s that . . .

As we reviewed our leave-in-a-hurry plan the other day, I realized that sure, we’d get out of the metro area with our lives, our pets, and most necessary items, but what about other needed things and, too, some sentimental pieces?

So that’s where we sit: packing.

Yes, most of my friends and family think I’m nuts. It’s always a possibility. But what we’re packing are things that we don’t need between now and spring, but are nice to have around, and the things that I want to keep but, if the leave-in-a-hurry plan is implemented, probably won’t be able to.

Think about this for a moment. At best, leaving your possessions behind may cause sorrow and regret after the fact, days or weeks later; at worst, the idea of doing this is a distraction while you’re in the midst of LIAH.

Not everyone will have this problem, of course. Right now, though, I’m in my office looking at the manual typewriter my grandmother used in 1930, and the rocking chair that my great-grandmother used to put babies to sleep since 1915. What can I say? These things are important to me.

Just because we’re going to live in a cabin in the woods doesn’t mean it’s only going to be furnished with sticks and rocks.

And now, I’m off to make a fashionable tinfoil hat . . .