Housing Trail

February. 
It's here and even though it is my least favorite month, I was excited to change my calendar.   

This year from Santa I received the 2011 Linnea Poster Calendar with the pop-out frame.  The designs for each month are so arty and fun that it took some serious self control to not just change it...oh...on the seventeenth of January or the twenty first of January.  The little heart on Valentine's Day.  You just can't get cuter than that in calendar land. 

Now I have to wait patiently through another entire month.  Except, I'm noticing that March is a cat and we all know how I feel about cats.  One letter away from being a rat people.  One letter.  So, maybe I'll jump right to April because jumping bunnies and carrots...they're alright.  I do believe my favorite is August or maybe it's July or it could even be October. 

When I put up the cute heart, I couldn't help but think of how crazy busy February was for me last year.  It will be the one year anniversary this coming weekend of me living in this house.  My house.  I love it more everyday.  It truly was made for me without the previous owners knowing they were making it for me.  Whenever I think of how much I love my house, I'm reminded of all of the other dwellings I have dwelt.  My housing trail so to speak. 

I'm all about lists right now so here goes.  

1.  Dorm rooms.  I need not say more about that.  Other than the time April and I came back to a rotten pumpkin and a dead fish all on the same Sunday.   

2.  College apartment.  I managed to live in the same apartment for all of the rest of the years of my college life.  Mostly with the same roommates too...a couple changes here and there.  I can't tell you how fun those years were.  I could write a million and two words and not even be close to bringing it justice.  

3.  However, I will say a few things.  There was the time in that college apartment when a crazed person ran into our garage door with their vehicle.  The wall ending up resting on my car like a little tent.  

4.  There was also the time someone in the garage next to us spray painted a motorcycle red.  The spray paint went through the cracks in the sheet rock and painted my car red too.  I did not want a red car.    

5.  There was also the time when I hid in a dumpster for a few hours in the parking lot of our building.  

6.  Enough about college.    

7.  After college, I moved back to the small town into a tiny little house that I rented from my friend.  The first morning, an electrician with a "hook" arm knocked on my door and a black dog came running in with him.  I thought maybe he needed that dog for help or something because he had a "hook" arm.  Kind of like a seeing eye dog or something but I realize now this logic is all off.  So, I let the dog run around that house making a mess because I thought he was a helper and finally said, "What is your dog's name?" trying to address the issue politely.  Hook replied, "My dog?!  I don't have a dog.  I thought it was your dog."  I yelled, "NOOOO...I don't have a dog either!!  Get the dog!  Get the dog!"  Turns out the whole time, it was the neighbor's dog.  

8.  That was a Welcome Back to Small Town moment.  

9.  The shower in that little house had a window in it.  Freaked me out every time.  Sometimes I felt I should shut the lights off to shower when it was dark out. 

10.  I moved out of that little house six months later into a different duplex/house thing in the same small town.  

11.  Landlord of that duplex/house thing called an electrician before I moved in and then told me, "DO NOT TOUCH THE LIGHTS UPSTAIRS.  They don't work and I don't want them to shock you."  I listened to him because I am not about being shocked.  

12.  Then, the first day I lived there, an electrician {not Hook this time} came and worked for a bit and said, "Ummmmmm.  The lights are fine.  The problem is.  Well.  The problem is.  Ummmm.  The light bulbs are burnt out."  I said with a snap, "I DID NOT CALL YOU.  It wasn't me!!  It was the landlord.  He just told me they would shock me.  Please believe me!  I know how to change a light bulb.  Please believe me!  Amen."  

13.  The second day I lived in that duplex/house thing, I made soup.  

14.  The third day I lived in that duplex/house thing, I came home from work to a HORRIBLE smell.  So horrible and rancid I figured it must be natural gas.  I called the natural gas company in a panic and they told me to get myself outside and wait for them.  

15.  Natural gas guy came.  He tested.  He said, "That smell is HORRIBLE, but it's not natural gas."

16.  Natural gas guy and I sniffed around and determined the smell was coming from the oven.  He was kind enough to pull the oven out and then he screamed like a baby.    

17.  He screamed like a baby because there was a village, I'm talking a village, of dead mice in the back of the oven.  Apparently I had cooked them when I made soup.  He screamed.  I screamed.  He ran around flapping like a chicken.  I ran around flapping like a chicken.  

18.  I sat down on the steps by the kitchen and said with my head in my hands, "I can not live here.  I can not live here.  I can not live here.  This does not go well with my personality.  I can not live here.  I have slight cleaning issues.  I can not live here."  As I rocked myself back and forth.

19.  Natural gas guy must have felt sorry for me consoling myself on the stairs about my living plight because he started picking the little dead mice out of the oven and disposing of them.  He took care of them all.  I'm sure that's not on the natural gas guy job list, but he did it.  Then, I called Landlord and said, "There was a village of mice in the oven and I cooked them when I made soup and I will not live here unless you buy a new oven and I have cleaning issues and I will not live here and I cooked them and there was a village."  He tried to tell me that he would just hire someone to clean the oven.  I kept arguing with him about the disgustingness of the situation and finally threw the phone to the natural gas guy and said in exasperation, "Here.  You tell him how gross it is."  Natural gas guy went on to explain to Landlord that yes indeed it was a.village.of.dead.mice.and.not.healthy.for.humans.to.be.around.

20.  I realized that Landlord was not bright.  Not bright at all.  But, he did buy a new oven. 

21.  So, I decided to still live there and invested in a lot of mouse traps.  I quickly learned there was a serious mice issue.  I became very skilled at the disposing of mice.  And, every time I had to rock myself back and forth a bit and tell myself it could be worse.  

22.  That spring, water came gushing into the basement of that duplex/house thing.  Gushing.  I called  Landlord and he was not worried about it all.  Said it happened every year.   

23.  I moved out.  I made it nine months in that duplex/house thing.    

24.  I decided it was time to quit renting because I was tired of mice, water, and landlords who were not bright.  So, I bought a cute little blue house across the same small town.   

25.  The house I bought did not have a garage, but it was spring and I am a right now kind of gal.  I lived in housing bliss the rest of that spring, summer, and fall.  Painting, weeding, updating, decorating...it was mine.  Then, it started to get cold and then it started to snow.      

26.  It turned into one of the worst winters we had had in ages.  I shoveled and I shoveled and I shoveled.  Then, the city maintenance lady would push it all back in with her snow plow.  One time, I chased her down the street swinging a shovel in the air like a lunatice while screaming things I should not repeat.  Let's just say I cracked.     

27.  I really did like that house in the spring, summer, and fall.  It was cute.  It was cute and it was blue and I grew lots of flowers there that next summer after surviving winter.  But just like it did before, it got cold again and it started to snow again.       

28.  I sold that house a year ago because it turned out that last winter was also on the horrible side.  One time, I came home and literally could not find the front door because the snow was that high.  Also, I was tired of driving to my job across the country side and calling my boss crying because of the roads.  No garage.  That was a kicker.

29.  I realize I was a winter wimp.  Twice.  I own that.     

30.  Facing homelessness, I went on a house hunt in the bigger town.  A house hunt that included approximately 73 different options.  I feel I should publicly apologize to my realtor.  Then, I walked into this one and as they say, the rest is history. 

31.  I bought it.  It's my house and I love it because there are no mice and I don't have a not so bright landlord and it has a garage and it was made for me.

32.  I can't end on an odd number so let's just have a moment for that lovely calendar again.  And please don't mind the ipod on the heat vent in the background.  It made a trip through my washing machine last weekend and I have faith it will miraculously dry out and play tunes again. 

       

P.S.
Those pocket doors that shut the kitchen off from the dining room still make my heart happy after this whole year.  Sometimes when I'm cooking, I like to shut them and pretend I'm southern. 

Living the Dream

Whenever people ask me how I'm doing, my automatic response is, "Well, just living the dream."  I figure in the whole grand scheme of things, I probably really am living the dream.  Are there things I wish that were different about my life?  Sure, who doesn't.  But, 92% of life is a little bit better than fabulous. 

Now that I have moved 96% of life is a little bit better than fabulous.  One percent for having a garage.  Seriously, I forgot just how amazing that really is.  One percent for no longer putting on approximately 100 miles a day.  One percent for not dishing out the dough to pay for those 100 miles.  Finally, one percent because I love my new digs.  So, now I really am living the dream. 

I saw enough of the above cardboard to last me a long time; I hate all things messy and all things clutter so the boxes were quick to go away.  On moving day, I had more help than I have quite possibly had at one time in my whole life.  At one point, I walked outside of the new digs and saw this.  Then I broke into singing "Hallelujia, hallelujia, hallelujia" and I'm sure the new neighbors took note. 

That would be Dad-O, Uncle T., and Brother (hiding behind Dad-o) all shoveling away.  I have been a shoveling fool for the last two years and this was a sight for sore eyes. 

The shoveling men was a sight for sore eyes, not Uncle T.  I wouldn't want there to be any confusion or his head to get any larger than it already is.  I think deep down Dad-o is quite excited about this move, even though he's trying his hardest to look like this moving is serious business.  And, really what a nice brotherly moment this is.  I'm sure there is nothing they would have rather been doing.  I wonder if it brought them back to all the work they did as younguns?  There was no screaming or fighting so probably not.   

I'm sure my new neighbors were wondering what kind of a redneck was moving in when they saw the caravan of five vehicles and the good ol' Gooseneck truck pulling in.  I moved in record time though and for that I'm very thankful.  Doesn't that American flag just give this picture it's pop?   

Uncle T. brought both of his boys along to help with the moving and here is one of them modeling the nice Coors Rodeo hat I won in a contest one night.  And, that's all I'm going to say about that.  

After I snapped this photo, I was told it was time for me to get to work.  What?  I can't just stand around and take pictures while everyone carries everything in?  How rude.  I put the camera down and commenced to unpacking.  I wish I would have taken more pictures of things like Easy Rider and Firecracker running laps in the unfinished basement.  But, those things will have to be pictures in my mind.  Moving day was a crazy, fun event and I'm extremely thankful for all the wonderful help! 

Moving Complete

Moving is complete.  It was a crazy day.  I had a ton of amazing help.  I'm done unpacking because that's just how I roll.  I can't live in box land.  More to come...soon...

Because I feel everything is better with a visual, and because I can't locate my card reader at this moment (hey, I said I was unpacked, not perfect), here is a lovely picture of Sister Pister taken at one of her high school rodeos last fall.  Yes, that is her horse's tail and yes her finger nails are blue.  She's wild I tell you.  Wild.  Never mind the fact that she is using said tail as a...well, I'm not actually sure. 

Holy smokes!!!  Breaking news; big news.  As I sit here and write, a man just came and shoveled my driveway.  I knew this move was the right decision!  Hmmmm...I wonder if he's single? 

Ode to Moving

I'm in the middle of packing right now to make my big move.  The problem is I get sidetracked by the hilarity of what I find lurking in some drawer or box.  Wow.  A person can accumulate some interesting items.  Mom gave me all of my childhood and high school boxes from her basement a few years back and I didn't go through them; I just threw them on a shelf in my basement...until now. 

I decided that this move I'm going through EVERYTHING.  So, all of my childhood, high school, and college memories are being sifted through to decide what is important enough to make the cut. 

My biggest question is...Mom, why did you save some of this stuff?  Oh I take that back, it's been a real treat seeing it and I'm glad I get to be brought back to all the good, bad, and ugly of my youth. 

It's apparent that my insane OCD was screaming even as a first grader.  But, hey, looks like my perfectionism earned me a "RIGHT ON!"  Awesome.  Note that we learned how to spell Pilgrim; always an important word.    

Here we have what is a lovely story from that same first grade journal.  I think I was advanced.  This is some funny stuff.  A snowman.  A moron.  A boy.  A girl.  Happy.  Sad.  It has all the makings of a big time movie drama. 

Now this, this is not from first grade.  This is middle school.  If you are pretending that you didn't secretly love the Backstreet Boys, then you are straight up lying.  The good news is...it was an Enhanced CD.  Thank goodness it wasn't a plain CD.  That would have been an autrocity.   

(P.S.  The one on the far right, Brian, was my favorite.  I know you were dying to know.)  

Here comes early high school.  Ahhh, The Dixie Chicks.  This must have been before they made fun of President Bush and the whole world hated them. 

Ok.  I am really making myself a nerd with this next one, but the thing is, I'm totally ok with it.  Look who was Champion Plant and Soil Science Exhibitor in 1995 for 4-H.  Yeah that's right.  Me.  I only wish you could see that this baby is taller than a small child.    

And last, but certainly not least, this book of jokes was written by yours truly at about age eight.  It's my favorite find so far.  I tell you what, there is some good material in there.  So good that I can't show you any of it.  I think I'm going to hit the road.  Please hold your applause for my favorite rooster doing a mighty fine job of holding up the jokes.  He might have to come on the road with me. 

Let's just have a silent moment for moving.                                                    Alright, that's long enough.  But, in all seriousness, it's kind of fun to be reminded of the some of the crazy things from the past.  I also found some pretty interesting notes (B.T. before texting) from friends in high school and many, many, many incriminating pictures from college, but I don't think the world is ready for those.   

One last thing.  In case it's killing you to know what made the cut...the trophy didn't, the CDs didn't, but the journal of my first grade writing did and of course The Joke Book did.  Those two are priceless.  Besides, I'm pretty sure I can sell "The Funny Snowman" to a movie producer for some big bucks.  You never know, it might be coming to a theater near you...