Work Wednesday—A Different Kind of Work

So for the past year I’ve been regaling you with home improvement tales, farm improvement tales, and the horrors of yet another move. Okay, so this one has been fine, just long and drawn out.

Not like the move from Texas to Missouri, say, that took two full days for a normally ten-hour trip . . .

Starting next week, we’ll be fulltime farmers.

Just a few projects lined up:

Seeding the pasture;

Tilling up the garden, about four times the size of last year;

Fencing both of these;

Planting the garden;

Completing the perimeter fencing.

And of course, all the unpacking after the final push. Which is in five days.

Phht. This is nothing. Our second move was discovered at lunch one day, and our deadline for arrival was in two weeks. That was over 1000 miles. Two young kids and I was expecting #3. The third move was shorter, just a couple hours or so away, but with all three kids and living in hotels for five weeks—while my husband worked nights.

As moves go, this one is almost finished. Probably 80% done, but of course not including shutting off utilities and changing addresses all over the place, etc., etc.

See, the kid has an apartment starting the end of the week, and while I’m okay with staying here a couple more weeks or so, it occurred to me that I will have no place to sit in the living room and a lot of my kitchen utensils and dishes will be going with him.

Hmmm. May as well move, right?

Of course, we’ll be making trips back to STL; it’s only about 100 miles. You know, for important things like the kid’s graduation . . . 😉



Work Wednesday—The Big Move

Yes, I’m still around. Somewhere . . . And no, we haven’t stopped working! But our construction zone is now more of a moving zone, except in the STL house. THAT house is a little construction and a little chaotic and a lot empty.

In fact, it’s been on the market for a couple weeks now and has had two showings and an open house, plus an agent open house. And now, shameless plug for anyone moving to the area:

So the kid is signing a lease on April 1st, instead of May 1st. No, he doesn’t want to get away from us, in fact, he wanted to be assured that I’d come visit and cook for him. Not that he can’t cook. But still. J

By the end of April, we’ll be out in the woods—finally!

Over the next few weeks, you’ll see some changes online, particularly regarding RHP and my social media accounts. And I’ll try to be here pretty regularly—yes, I know I seem to have taken a week or so off already, but I’m really looking forward to writing a bit more once we’re settled.

Even though I’m the queen of moving, I’m currently at that last bit that seems to trip up everyone; you know, the end of the move where you’re just throwing random crap in boxes to get it OUT and MOVED. I’m as guilty as anyone . . .

And yes, I AM the queen: this will be our tenth move in 19 years, not counting stints in five hotels and with friends for several weeks at a time.

And no, we’re not military. Everyone asks.

What’s left at the farm? Well, besides those random boxes of crap . . . We decided to redo the shower, with tile, so there’s that and the bathroom floor. And we decided to redo the lean-to, aka the dungeon, so we have a little more drywall and then tile. Ugh.

Then there’s fitting in the rest of the furniture—not much, thank heavens. And the unpacking, which I mostly don’t mind. Except for, all together now: RANDOM BOXES OF CRAP!