This time we will do it together.

Obi-Wan: (quietly to Anakin) “This time we will do it together.”
Anakin: “I was about to say that.”

Star Wars III: Revenge of the Sith

Time sure flies when you’re entire life is picked up, packed up, carted off, unloaded, unpacked and re-arranged over the course of a few weeks. This is a massively long post, so grab a cuppa because you’re going to be here a while reading this.

I don’t know where I left you all on this journey that has become my life – and I’m too lazy to go find out – so here’s what has transpired over the course of the last 6 weeks or so. We sold the house and are waiting to close this later this week. Huge sighs of relief are being held in check until we get a signed form telling us that, indeed, we are no longer home owners. The woman that is buying our house is using Bank of America for her mortgage, and they are taking for.ev.er to get the paperwork done. This must not be too uncommon because the woman at the title company gave a very audible groan several weeks back when she heard which lender the buyer was using. We were supposed to close today or earlier, but B of A didn’t get their paperwork in on time so we’ve been delayed a few days. Oh well. Did I mention we sold the house in Michigan? Because if not, we did, and selling a house in Michigan is no small feat. Let.Me.Tell.You.

Four movers showed up on May 20th in a 24 ft truck to box up all our worldly belongings – that hadn’t been sold or given away, that is. After the initial walk-through (in which our nearly empty 1800 sq ft. house looked like it had been robbed), the driver said, “You hardly have anything to move! I’m glad we didn’t bring the semi that we were scheduled for!” As it was, everything filled just under half of the truck and they finished both the packing and loading in a little under six hours – a wee bit short of the two DAYS they had scheduled for the packing (day 1) and loading (day 2). I’m pretty sure they weren’t too impressed with the estimate given by the local subcontractor regarding amounts of goods to be moved.

My mom picked us up on the 22nd and drove us, our liquids, a few perishables, and our financial records out to our new place in Des Moines, Iowa. That’s right, we’re Iowans now. Having never even been to Iowa before Dad Windu’s marathon interview back in February, it seems a little weird to think that this is likely where I’ll spend the rest of my days, but we’re rather enjoying it here. The people have been uber-friendly, there’s no tourist industry to speak of so no fighting traffic on the weekends, Padawan Learner found a gym he’s happy to train at for competitive trampoline, we’ve linked up with an active homeschool teen group, the downtown is awesome and very, very walkable, there’s the most fantastic farmer’s market each Saturday that’s only a ten minute walk away from our apartment, and best of all – Dad Windu, Padawan Learner and I are all together again. Ten weeks felt like a hundred. I don’t know how other families do it long-term.

On the flip side, we’re missing friends and family, we have 79 apartments full of people who are – literally – only steps away, and there’s no giant lake (ok, really more of an inland sea) to flee to when the heat begins rolling up the thermometer.

Still, I do declare: Life is good.

Our worldly goods returned on Monday, the 24th, on a very full 14 ft truck. Two young men tugged, lugged, rolled and dragged all of our things into our 865 sq ft apartment for seven hours. This (different) pair of movers, after dropping off the last box and standing in the last two sq ft of available floor space, said, “You have an absolute TON of stuff!” It’s all about perspective. I tried to get a picture – but it took me all day just to find my purse under all that stuff!

On the 25th, PL, my mom and I headed back to GR for a final week of classes in Grand Rapids. PL’s last piano and Dutch lessons and homeschool and competitive trampoline classes took place over the course of three very busy days. We were even able to grab a little park time with Yoda and Red Leader and their respective boys: Lando Calrission, R2-D2, Wedge Antilles and Lobot, before having dinner with my sister-in-law, Queen Amidala, and nephew, Zebulba. On Thursday, my mother-in-law treated me to a mani-pedi at a little nail place near her and I treated her to lunch. Unexpectedly getting out of work early, Queen Amidala shot me a last-minute call and we ended up drinking eating dinner for three hours, laughing all the while.

Come Friday morning, we were back on an Amtrak train heading for home. Juuuust making our connection in Chicago, PL and I relaxed on the train and I had fun making train tips statements on my Twitter account based on the goings-on around me.

Saturday afternoon found us hanging out and surrounded by other Michiganders at the graduation party for, get this, Qui-Gon Jinn’s niece out in the suburbs of Des Moines! Knowing that we were brand-new to the area, Q-G J’s sister very generously invited us to crash the party and begin the holiday weekend in a social manner. It was fun to meet and put a face to the names of people that I’d been hearing about for the past several years. We even got to drag Qui-Gon Jinn, Endicott, and C-3PO out to our favorite restaurant downtown and show off our new apartment – I’m sure they were impressed by our large assortment of boxes, piles of stuff, and absolutely jam-packed furniture.

Memorial Day was parade-free, at least for us, because we didn’t know anything about where such things began, but that night we found out that they was a large going-on up at the Capital Building. Doh! We did go out to the mall – after we realized that we’d obviously missed all the Memorial Day programs – and saw the new Robin Hood movie. I finally got to go to Ulta and, I must say, it made my X-chromosomes sparkle. Angels sang, the clouds parted, and money absolutely flew out of my hands as I began the process of anti-humidity-fying my make-up supplies. For the record, Smashbox foundation is glorious – it simply does.not.melt.off when the air is hot and sticky. By the way, locals have a favorite past-time with northern newbies: talking about how hot and humid it’s GOING to get. I have been instructed to: wait until August gets here and go for a visit to Kansas/Missouri (preferably in August). From what I can gather, the weather here in August is just a few degrees short of Hell and much, much more humid. *yea*

Oops, out of time. More later.

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