A Different Kind of Thanksgiving

It was just the three of us and Grammy on Thanksgiving Day this year, so we decided to eat out for the first time ever.  We went to an old inn and tavern that happens to be just down the hill from our new house.  The meal was terribly nontraditional -- I had haddock and everyone else had prime rib -- but delicious.  We shared a huge piece of triple chocolate cake for dessert and called it good.  (Mom cooked turkey with all the trimmings on Saturday, when the H*ntleys joined us.)

 

Pulling Up Stakes and Heading East

I'm way behind with this post, but I want to capture some details of our last days in W*sconsin and journey cross-country.

 

The packers arrived the morning of the 15th and set about boxing up our life.  Sarah got home from school at lunchtime and jumped in to help.  I won't be surprised if there's an extra charge for her "assistance."  She steadily made her rounds, asking, "How are you doing?" and "Is there anything you need?"  At one point, I overheard her telling the most senior among them, "Do you know that you'll be 69 on your next birthday?" which I'm sure was appreciated.  I kept expecting her to be upset about them taking her things, but she seemed to enjoy the whole process. 

 

Helping in the kitchen

Updating Grammy

 

Too much stuff!

Friday morning, the crew returned with a huge semi.  Sarah set up shop in the sunroom, watching S*same Street on the tiny portable TV, then drawing and writing notes.  As they loaded the truck in the afternoon, she sat in the driveway, singing and making them pet her stuffed dog Vava as they went by.  She was a big hit when she handed out lollipops.

 

This is really happening!

 

Base camp

 

Supervising

 

We spent Friday night in the empty house.  Sarah thought it was high adventure.  We were all in bed by 8:00.

Playing on the iP*d in the empty living room

Happy camper in the downstairs bedroom

Saturday morning, Sarah occupied herself very well while Mom did last-minute cleaning and Dad went off to get dry ice for the coolers (we couldn't bear to part with all the homegrown fruits and veggies we'd frozen).  She and Vava raced each other back and forth from the sunroom to the far side of the living room.

Don's quest for dry ice quickly turned to an exercise in frustration as he discovered that the store that sold it was closed.  After a maddening hour or so of searching for other possible sources, he stopped at a convenience store to ask directions and learned that the clerk's brother worked at the original place.  She called him, and he met Don at the store, opening up to sell him the ice and throwing in a few extra pounds for free!

At about 12:30, we pulled out of the driveway for the last time.  I think we were too exhausted to be emotional.  I can't remember the last time I was that physically tired.  Fortunately, we had only about 120 miles to Omar and Emily's house, where we relaxed for the rest of the afternoon, enjoyed one of Emily's delicious dinners, watched Finding N*mo, and headed to bed at 8:00 again.

 

 

We hit the road at 6:30 Sunday morning, with Sarah in the S*baru with Dad and Cadi the Lab for the first leg.  Following in the V*lkswagen with Sophie, I had flashbacks to the many cross-country treks I've made in a little car with a cat as my only companion.  I was happy to be part of a family caravan this time.

 

As we passed under the open-road toll stations without even slowing down, I savored the ease of having transponders.  At the first rest stop, Sarah switched vehicles, and Don remarked casually, "I wonder whether the toll stations can read the signal with the canoe hanging over the windshield."  There went my peace of mind.

 

Traffic in Chicago was surprisingly heavy given the day and time, but we made it through without incident.  Then came the first toll station with gates.  I had removed the transponder from the windshield so that I could hold it away from the canoe.  At the last minute, however, curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to test whether it worked where it had been.  I held it by the rear view mirror and pulled slowly up to the gate.  Nothing happened.  I moved it over to the corner of the windshield, thinking, "Problem solved," and still nothing happened.  Panic struck.  I glanced in the rear view mirror, and, miraculously, there was no car behind me, so I threw it in reverse, backed up a few feet, and approached again.  The gate went up, and I was on my way.  From then on, toll booths made my heart race.

 

The rest of the day was uneventful, until we hit Cl*veland after dark.  Don led the way, and despite our best efforts, we ended up going through downtown at dinnertime, which was no picnic.  We managed to find our hotel just east of the city with only a couple of wrong turns.  Sarah was delighted to be at a hotel again.  She collected all the pens, note pads, and random pieces of paper and started taking notes.

Sarah and Big Dog watching TV at the hotel

We left before daylight Monday morning, Sarah with Dad again.  Just over the New Y*rk line, we got off the toll road for gas and a bathroom break, and Sarah switched cars.  As we re-entered the thruway, the toll station didn't read the VW transponder.  The attendant gave me a ticket and told me I'd have to stop at all the stations and hand over the transponder to be registered manually.  So much for convenience.

 

The day went smoothly -- until we hit Alb*ny, where a spur-of-the-moment decision by the lead driver (which might have been me) to deviate from the planned route, and then pass a slower vehicle, was NOT appreciated by the following driver (who was towing a boat).  I still contend the first move was a smart one; the second not so much.  And, in my defense, I had a four-year-old co-pilot.

After Alb*ny came the B*rkshire Mountains in Western M*ssachusetts. The VW hasn't been up a real hill for more than 10 years, and it struggled with the climb to 1,724 ft. (the highest point on I-90 east of South D*kota). I haven't been through that part of M*ss. in decades, and I'd forgotten how beautiful it is.

 

We exited the toll road for good in W*stfield, where I handed the last toll ticket and the transponder to the attendant, who replied, "What's this?"  I told him it was a transponder that wasn't working properly and that he'd have to register it manually.  He said, "This isn't one of OUR transponders."  I said, "I know, it's an Ill*nois one, but it's accepted in M*ss."  He said, "I don't want this," at which point, I lost it and shouted, "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME -- DO YOU WANT CASH????  I'VE DRIVEN MORE THAN 1,000 MILES, AND I DON'T NEED THIS HASSLE!" to which he replied, "Lady, there's no toll between the state line and here; you don't owe anything."  I grabbed my transponder and got the heck out of there.  The funny part is that he made Don, who was right behind me, pay $6 (perhaps for having a crazy wife?).

We dropped off our precious frozen cargo at my sister's house and made it to my mom's by dinner -- with relatively few scars to show for our 1,200-mile journey.

We're more than halfway through our stay here (13 days down, 11 to go), and we're all holding up pretty well. Cadi the Lab is in heaven, playing with my mom's dogs' abundant toys.  Sophie has finally decided the strange dogs are harmless and the fat cat is fun to tease. Sarah loves being with Grammy, although I think she's starting to get bored and misses all of her toys. Don's busying himself with fix-it projects, and I'm helping with housework and setting up services for the new place. We're extremely grateful to have temporary housing but eager to get our little family settled into its new home.

Last Long-distance Visit to Grammy's

Since we were renting a car this time, we brought her car seat.  Putting it in the plane seat was a pain, but Don was pretty good at it by the time we got home.

Sarah loves to cook with Grammy.  Lasagne here...

and apple crisp here

Riding my old rocking horse (talk about built to last)

Carving pumpkins with Heshy (aka Auntie Heather), Sam, and Forrest

 

Checking for remaining seeds with a flash light

Her cow Jack-o'-lantern

Supervising some heavy equipment work with Dad and Uncle B

Uncle George running the backhoe

Experiencing H*rricane Sandy with Dad

Riding the moving walkway on the way home

Dream Home 2.0

We got back from M*ssachusetts Wednesday evening.  Although I had doubts about finding a home we'd love as much as our current one, I think we did it.  The new place is distinctly different from ours, but also quite similar.  It's as close to perfect as we could hope for, and we believe it was meant for us.

After starting with a search of western M*ss. and southern V*rmont and New H*mpshire, we had gradually focused in on an area within half an hour of my mom's.  Over the last two months, we thought we had seen all the online listings that might work for us. Then, a week or so before we left, I did one more search, with more flexible parameters, and came upon a charming little colonial (CLC) in the town where I spent my first eight years and where we were married 10 years ago.

We flew out on Wednesday with a list of five homes to see Friday (our realtor, Wanda, couldn't meet until then).  On the way to my mom's from the airport, we drove by the CLC and became more convinced that it should be ours.  We called Wanda that evening and asked her to let the sellers' agent know we were interested so they wouldn't accept an offer before we could see the inside.

Waiting for Friday was torture.  We drove by all the houses with my mom on Thursday, and none was as attractive in terms of location, appearance, and amenities as the CLC.  On Friday morning, we left Sarah with Grammy, met up with Wanda, and started down the list, leaving the best for last.  Our anticipation built throughout the morning, and, fortunately, we were not disappointed.

The house was built in 2000, a year after our current home, and has many of the same features, including an open floor plan, rec room in the basement, and bright, sunny rooms (not to mention central vac).  It is roughly half the size, however, which is a good thing.  It also has some nice touches like hardwood floors, hickory kitchen cabinets, and a wide staircase to the second floor.  And, it has an attached, two-car garage, a feature we had all but given up on having.

The setting is splendid.  It's on 1.7 acres, much of it wooded (with stonewalls running through) and has forested conservation land with hiking trails across the street.  The lot is steep and beautifully landscaped with native stone and plants (no need for our riding lawn mower).  It is much more private than our current yard.

Then there's the location, location, location.  My mom is 10 minutes away, and my sister and her family are 15.  It's a short walk to town, which boasts a recently updated library, market, restaurant/brewery, elementary school, and the country store where I worked as a teenager.  The "artistic, musical, and countercultural hub" (according to W*kipedia) of N*rthampton is also just 15 minutes down the road.

We drew up the offer in the driveway.  After a couple of counters (and two more tense days), we had a deal Sunday night.  Monday morning, we met the owners at the house for another look and to locate the property boundaries.  That's when we started to sense this was pre-ordained....

Peter and Michelle are probably in their 40s, with a three-year-old daughter from Eth*opia.  They are from M*nnesota and W*sconsin and love the outdoors.  They have chronicled the bird life on the property and nurtured the native plants.  When Peter remarked, "It's kind of like living in a tree house," it was uncanny, since Don and I have said the same about our current home many times.

We headed to the bank to apply for the mortgage, and that's when things got a little bumpy.  The bank with the best rates didn't have a mortgage officer on-site, but we were able to make an appointment with her at another location for that afternoon.  We headed home for lunch and soon got a call from her saying the bank was closing due to H*rricane Sandy, and she didn't have any time available Tuesday morning.  We were flying back to W*sconsin Tuesday afternoon, so that put us in a pickle.

She called back a little later, however, to say she'd had a cancellation and, as long as the bank was open Tuesday morning, she could meet us then.  We settled in to ride out the storm and see what the morning would bring.  When we went to bed that night, the wind was blowing like crazy, but we didn't lose power.  Tuesday dawned calm and clear for the most part, and we were able to get the mortgage application done before heading to the airport.  Our flights were even on schedule.

We've now begun the final countdown at our W*sconsin home -- 15 days until we say goodbye and head east.  There's still an element of uncertainty, as we need approval for rezoning this house to satisfy the buyers and an acceptable inspection report on the new house to proceed, but I have faith things will work out.  We'll spend a few weeks at my mom's, then move into the CLC in mid-December.  Looks as though I'll need a new blog title in 2013....

One Last Visit to the Farm

Emily, Omar, Sophia, and Lola the Grandpup visited last weekend.  The weather was beautiful, and we thoroughly enjoyed our last time together on the farm.

Don did a fish fry Friday evening, and we all ate our fill of n*rthern pike, w*lleye, and sunfish brought back from Lake W*nnie this summer.  Then we all watched Pin*cchio.  I am always amazed at how dark children's movies are.  I know it's supposed to help them sort out good and evil in a safe way, or something like that, but, really, turning naughty boys into donkeys???  I felt bad for the boys and insulted for donkeys.

On Saturday, the girls had gifts from Emily and Omar -- pens, paper, envelopes (!!), notecards, and stickers so they can be pen pals after we move.  They were a big hit (and very thoughtful).

We headed to Tr*mpealeau N*tional W*ldlife Refuge for some hiking and birdwatching before lunch.  It was a spectacular day to be on "Am*rica's Flyway."  We will miss the tremendous natural resources in this area.

After lunch, it was time to frost cupcakes that we'd made in the morning...

...then spend some time in the yard.

It was a treat watching Sarah and her niece ("Mom, I'm not Sophia's friend; I'm her aunt."), as always.  They are so sweet together.  Sarah handled Sophia playing with her things much better than in the past (although she did stash some toys beforehand).  She was well behaved and polite the whole time, except for bedtime.  Once she was alone with me, it was as if a switch flipped, and she instantly became defiant.  I think she had reached her limit of emotional control and needed to unload.  I handled it better than in the past, I think, and we avoided a meltdown.  We both continue to grow.

Luckily, this wasn't really goodbye yet.  We will spend our last night in Wisconsin at Emily, Omar, and Sophia's house on Nov. 17 as we start our move east.  No doubt some tears will be shed then.

Finally, a funny story to tell on myself:  The carbon monoxide detector malfunctioned and started wailing Saturday morning after breakfast.  The noise was ear-splitting, so I quickly unplugged it and looked to see how to disable it.  Below the flashing light were the words "Move to fresh air," so I rushed it out the door and left it on the deck still blaring.  Don and Omar showed up then and went out to remove the battery to stop it.  When he came back in, Don said gently, "I think 'Move to fresh air' means get yourself outside, not the detector."  I'm afraid the last few weeks have left me a bit dim-witted.