I know things will happen in God's time, not mine. But...

 ...I'm getting a little restless!

Don't worry, I'm fine. I know better than to wish time away.  There's a lot to get done in the next six weeks or so, and since we said we'd be flexible on the closing date to allow the sellers to find a new place, it'll likely be longer than six weeks, anyway.  

I'm just a little concerned because, in a very unusual move for me, I'm actually looking forward to decorating.  I have themes picked out for two of the bathrooms. Ideas in mind for the office and the bedrooms, and the garage, and the yard. I'm finally allowing myself to picture where I'm going to put things. Not just the big things, like the couch and the TV and the bed, but the little things like the cleaning supplies and the shoes and the dog food.  You know, the things you don't normally think about putting away until you realize you have to put them away, and since you're starting from scratch, you want to make sure you put them away in the best place the first time.  Because where the current resident has them might not be the best place, right?  I don't even remember where they had cleaning supplies. I don't know exactly where I want them.  In the laundry room/entryway because then they won't be near food and having everything right there makes sense?  In the bathrooms because that's where I have most of the cleaning supplies now so that makes sense to me, even though the reason I have them there now is mostly because we have other stuff in the entryway (mostly overflow from the kitchen and random stuff that would be better in the garage) and because right now we don't have a linen closet?  Also, we do have a "pantry" in the new place but it's at the end of the hallway, away from the kitchen, next to the entryway and the bathroom; maybe that would be a better place for cleaning supplies, and paper products and such.

I just want the new place to be organized.  Well, not "just" as in the only thing I want, but it's an important factor, for sure.

I wish I could share pictures, but I'm too superstitious to do that yet.  On paper, the deal is almost as close to being done as it can be without being done; I think there is one type of inspection that needs to be done that is supposed to be done this coming week, and we need to decide get our homeowner's insurance set up, and then we just wait for the closing.  We have a date for the closing, like I've already said, and said we'd be flexible, but we do have a date in writing.  I'm too superstitious to share that date here yet, too, other than to say it's in the middle of November.  :D

In the meantime, I've been all over Pinterest looking for decorating ideas.  This weekend we picked up some totes to start packing, and the hubby has so far filled up 6 totes full of Hot Wheels cars.  I take that back -- six totes full of Hot Wheels Volkswagens.  And he says he can probably fill four more totes. Of Hot Wheels Volkswagens.  You know those little cars they sell at Wal-Mart and Target for like 99 cents (or are they up to $1.99 now? I don't pay attention to these things.)? Yeah, those.  Ten totes of those.  Of just the Volkswagens.  That's not counting the non-Volkswagens.  There will be a lot of those, too.  And the non-Hot Wheels Volkswagens.  I don't know where these are going to go yet. 

That's another problem with having hobbies in common with your spouse, ha ha ha.  I'm not the kind of wife who is going to tell him he can't put them back up in the new house.  He's the one who said he's going to put them in storage for a while until he decides how to display them.  I have my own collection of car stuff to worry about!  Not nearly as big as that -- I'm pretty sure my Maverick and Maverick accessories collection will fit in one tote, maybe two.  Unless you count the actual Maverick itself... which is arguably smaller than 10 Tough Totes :D *ahem* Anyway, my point is that, we have a lot of stuff, and we know it, but we both have the same vision in mind for how we want our new place to look.  We don't want it to be jam-packed with stuff.  And honestly, even if we were taking all of our stuff with us, it wouldn't be, because the new place is about twice the size of our current place.  I guess what I'm trying to say is we both want the new place to be organized, and not jam-packed, and comfortable, and still "us".  

I have never looked forward to shopping for furniture before.  In fact, I'd usually rather watch grass grow than shop for furniture.  It's just so incredibly boring!  And so hard to find something we both like.  I don't know about you, but I can never decide if everything is comfortable or nothing is comfortable when "trying out" furniture in a showroom.  Especially couches.  Is that an anxiety thing? The way I sit on a couch in a showroom is nothing at all how I'll sit on it at home.  At home I'll be lying down, or cross-legged, or lounging, with my dog next to me, and a blanket, etc.  Maybe this time I should just go to the furniture store in my leggings and oversized sweatshirt, with my hair in a messy bun, wearing my slippers, with my favorite water bottle in one hand and my phone in the other, and a favorite blanket, and plan on spending at least half an hour on the end of each potential couch playing on Facebook or playing video games so I can see if the furniture being considered is REALLY comfortable or not.  Or I should show up on a day when I'm feeling like crap and see if I can get comfortable enough to spend half a day not moving on it, watching TV, with my dog curled up next to me.  See?  Sitting down on a couch politely for 10 seconds with everyone watching you expectantly to find out if you think it's comfortable or not is simply not sufficient to judge a piece of furniture that is going to become a major fixture in your life.  Not when you're also trying to picture whether the style is something you can deal with looking at everyday for the next 5-10 years (hopefully!) or so, whether it fits in with your vision for your home, whether there is a whole ensemble that comes with it or not, how much it costs, and -- my personal favorite -- how many other people have tried it out before you, and what kind of germs they have left behind.  😷😷😷  (And that was me before COVID, too, people.)

But now, I almost am.  Looking forward to shopping for new living room furniture.  We've always had this certain style in mind that we've always said we wanted to get someday.  But now I'm not sure if it will fit with the look in the house.  And, we almost have two living rooms to furnish, because we have a nice finished basement, too, with a gas fireplace that would be awesome to sit by.  

A big part of my problem is that I don't have the ability to picture what other furniture would look like in a room.  Even if I know what the room looks like. I've never been able to do that.  I have an image of what a room looks like in my mind, and I can't, like, take out one piece and replace it with another hypothetical piece and have an accurate picture of what it would look like.  And I generally consider myself someone with a pretty good imagination, at least I used to...but I can't do that, and the more someone tries to describe to me what it would look like, the more frustrated I get because I just can't picture it any other way than how it actually is.

Anyway, yeah. Shopping. I really want to find some tables or desks or something at, like, thrift stores or garage sales or something that I can paint and make instantly cute.  But not too cute.  Cozy.  But also useful.  

But first...more sorting, packing, and cleaning.  I forsee a lot of this in my future!  On that note, I'm signing off for now. TTYL!

It's as they say...

Yesterday should have been one of those days where I was allowed to walk around with a sign that said, "Remember to be kind to those around you because you never know what they're going through." or better yet, "Leave me the f*** alone because I'm having a mixed-up emotional kind of day and I don't want to deal with any of your stupid, petty shit!" or the slightly less aggressive version, "Don't sweat the small stuff, and it's all small stuff."

But, of course, this is real life and in real life we only get to dream about carrying signs like that.  

It wasn't just that I was stressing out about work, because nurse scheduling is tight right now and I felt bad about needing to take a few hours off to take care of some personal business which put a minor disruption in the matrix (although less of a disruption than I perceived, I'm sure, but I hate to cause any disruption at all).  

*ahem*

On September 30, 2004, we moved out of the big city and began the rest of our lives here in the country, on our little farm.  Something I'd wanted to do all my frickin' life! Due to my poor documentation at the time, I don't remember if we closed that day (it was a Thursday) and moved in over the weekend, or closed earlier in the week (I always think we closed on the 27th or 28th for some reason) but I do remember that the boy and I spent the first few nights out here ourselves before the weekend when we brought all the rest of the furniture etc.  I remember that he finished the week at school in St. Paul, so maybe we did close on Thursday and he didn't have school on Friday and we moved the stuff in on the weekend. I'm not sure why he wouldn't have had school on Friday but who knows? 

WHATEVER THE CASE MAY BE, I was super emotional yesterday because it was 17 years pretty much to the day that we moved into this house, and it was also the day we officially sold it.  Now you might wonder, as I myself am also wondering, why I am so emotional about selling the damn house, especially because it's still in the family and it's not like I'll never see it again, and the plan all along was to tear this house down and build a new one so WTF?  

So I will tell you, as I ruminate on this a bit more -- it's not "the house".  It's not that I'm going to miss these specific walls (that are still sponge-painted light blue from when we moved in 17 years ago....yikes) or this specific floor or the popcorn ceilings or the wallpaper in the kitchen that I was always going to attempt to peel off but never did.  It's all the memories of living here, of course, and how old they make me feel.  The boy was just a little 1st grader when we moved here, and now he's a frickin' adult. I never would have guessed that he would be living here himself one day!  

I think it's just all the stress of everything.  

The last offer we made on the second-to-last house we looked at was accepted.  We're in the process of coordinating inspections and appraisals, I've spent the week gathering/scanning/submitting paperwork, and we're hoping to move into our beautiful new home in a little over a month.  I should be bouncing off the walls excited (and believe me, at first I was!), and inside I really am, but I knew this "downer" part was coming!  Finding out the offer was accepted is the high point -- then, for me anyway, came the sticker shock, quickly followed by the rush to get everything together financially, and now as we wait for the results of the various inspections to come in, we also wait for the sellers to go through what we just went through and find a new place -- hopefully in a MUCH shorter time frame than we did!  We said we'd be flexible on the closing date to allow them time to find a place if necessary, but I hope this doesn't get dragged out too much longer.  Our new landlord wants us out ;). 

We're still in limbo. The new place is basically move-in ready for us, but we need to put up some fencing and shelter for the horses before they can move over.  We are also planning on leaving much of the furniture here for the boy, so we need to decide what kind of furniture we'd like in our new place, and also how to get it on a budget.  It's like the hubby said last night -- it's as if we're starting over again. Which is kind of fun, starting with a clean slate, and this time we can be picky and only get what we want instead of whatever we can find.  It's another major life transition -- instead of going from the city to the country, we're going from the country to the more rural country.  We will be farther out there, not as close to fast food and restaurants as we are now.  

Alright, I gotta get back to work.  TTYL!

 

Not gonna write about house-hunting, or moving, or commuting, or being a nurse...

 HA HA HA HA HA, yeah right.

Do you ever have those days where you just want to hit your head against a brick wall repeatedly?  Oooops, I better be careful what I say, lest someone misconstrue that as a statement of self-harm ideation.  I don't really want to hit my head against a brick wall.  I have no plans or desire to hit my head, or anyone else's head, against a brick wall, or any wall.  Not one time or repeated times, or any time at all.  

Sometimes it's just frustrating, though, and disheartening to the point where you want to lie your head down on the nearest surface, like the desk in front of you which is probably about as comfortable as a brick wall (maybe less scratchy) and close your eyes and just check out for a while.  

"It" being, you know, just everything.  Honestly, it could be anything.  Anything you're working on at the moment, whether you're trying to win a Nobel prize or just trying to make it through the next five minutes of your life without having a breakdown.  We all like it when things go the way we want them to, and when they don't, it gets us down.  But then we get back up again, because they're never gonna keep us down.  We get knocked down, but we get up again; they're never gonna keep us down.  I said we get knocked down, but we get up again! They're never gonna keep us down.  We get knocked down, and we get up again, because they're never gonna keep us down.

Hold on, then...I just heard some thumping in my tub...😝

As you were.

If life is a highway (or Are you gonna go my way?)

Do all drivers have a favorite road, or is that another quirk I've taken for granted most of my life because I forget that not all people are car people?

I guess this is a pretty open-ended question.  The inspiration behind it came during my new drive to work, which may come as a surprise.  Some people actually do think about driving while they're driving!  What a concept. 

At any rate, My old drive to work was pretty straight-forward.  (Lame driving pun not intended!) That's the beauty of the interstate, isn't it?  Or should I say, the beauty of living 3 miles north of the interstate, and working about one mile south of the same interstate.  Sure, there were times when said interstate was backed up for one reason or another and I'd have to find an alternate route, but luckily I'm familiar enough with the city side streets (and thanks in part to GPS and map apps) that it wasn't a problem to exit early and bypass the obstruction.  I think there were only two times in five years I needed to find other ways to cross the St. Croix River, though, which was a bit more of an issue because the next nearest bridge is a bit out of the way.  Not un-doable, though.  Not by a long shot.

My new drive just has too many options.  I'm not great at making decisions when there are too many options and all the time in the world to make them.  I still get to take the interstate to work, but then I have to decide which highway I want to branch off to and when.  I've tried both of the major options this week and they're both about the same, time-wise, but one feels faster and less stressful.  I was actually surprised at the "less stressful" part, because it was the option I thought I would not like.

And that got me thinking about how we have favorite roads, and why.  For example, my new commute now affords me the opportunity to drive on highway 36.  For some reason, I have always enjoyed driving on highway 36.  Always. Ever since I've been driving, it's been one of my favorite roads.  I lived in the "wrong" part of town (hahaha!) to actually use it on a regular basis, but I always liked driving it, and I kind of still do. And I've always tended to avoid 35E, again for reasons I'm not quite clear on, except that it seems like it's always backed up.  Again, by "always" I mean for as long as I've been driving, which is about 30 years, and I grew up in the cities and learned to drive in the cities, so it really honestly has been that long.  Ditto for 694.  I don't know, I'm just surprised because, in my head, I thought I would like the 94 to 694 to 36 commute best, because 694 and 36 are only two lanes and therefore would be...I'm not sure what adjective I'm looking for here.  Un-super-speedway-like?  But, after trying the 94 to 35E to 36 route, I found I was actually much more comfortable and calm and happier on the latter route.  I felt safer because 35E had more lanes.  I guess a lifetime of NASCAR watching has rubbed off on me: the same amount of cars going the same speeds in a larger space is generally going to be safer because they have more room to pass.  When they get all bunched up, like they do on the 2-lane highways where everyone is still trying to do 75 even though the speed limit is CLEARLY MARKED as 60, it's much more frustrating and worrisome because the cars get packed together like sardines and I'm always thinking ahead to wonder what this drive will be like when it's icy and snowy.  

Yes siree, some of us certainly do think about driving while we're driving.

😊

We're in the unique position right now of having two houses in which we are interested.  Talk about opening a window when He closes a door, eh?!  And amazingly, as of a few minutes ago when I checked the MLS website, both were still Active (meaning available and not Pending or Contingent, meaning that the sellers have accepted offers on them).  We have already looked at one of them, and are looking at the second one tonight.  Based on what we've seen so far on the online listings, it's already a tough call.  One seems to have the House advantage, the other has the Land and Outbuildings advantage.  They're the same price, and their Locations are relatively similar as well (not that they're in the same area, actually they're in different areas, but basically equidistant from our ground zero.  I think.  We'll confirm that on Consideration #2 this evening.).  As I said, we looked at one already and the house is beautiful! It basically meets all of our criteria and does not need any work, but we have some misgivings concerns  about the land on which it sits.  Both places are one-owner homes, but the one we haven't looked at yet is a much older home -- and although the photos and the listing show that it looks to be in good condition (dated décor-wise, but that can be fixed), we know all too well that the devil is in the things that aren't pictured.  Like the mechanical room, namely the floor and whether it has water on it.  And what the carpet smells like, or what the floor feels like when you step on it.  Little things like that. 

In one week from today, we officially sell our current home to our son, almost exactly 17 years to the day that we bought it.  Crazy, isn't it?!  If you would've told me six months ago that this would be happening, I would've laughed you right out of town.  But here we are.  About to do this.  The boy is chomping at the bit to get us out of here. I wonder what it's like, taking over the house that you grew up in?  

Alright, lunch break is over.  Back to work for me!  (Working from home today.  It feels weird.  The new office is so new and awesome that I was almost kind of sad about not going in today, and then I came to my senses and remembered I don't have to spend 2 hours of my day driving, and although I love driving, I also love being home even though it's a disorganized mess right now. Limbo is fun.) TTYL!

One move down...

Well, The Office Move is done!  I can check that off of my bucket list. I've never moved an office before, even though several of my former employers have moved locations.  

Let's see...first there was Wards, when they moved from the old building in St. Paul (which was imploded in 1996, watch the YouTube video here) to the new location, which became Herberger's (I think) after Wards went out of business in around 1999ish, and I honestly lost track of what's been in that building after that.  It was a Barnes and Noble bookstore for a while, now I think it's a HealthPartners clinic...anyway, I started working at the old store in 1990, when I was 16, and I think I left in late 1995? Maybe 1996? I know I didn't work there when we got married, which was in September of 1996, but I might have worked there earlier that year, although for some reason I don't think I did.  I think 1995 was my last year there.  And for those of you who didn't already know, my hubby worked there as well.  He started in the old store in 1989 (yes, we're the same age, but he started when he was 15 and I didn't start until I was 16).  And no, that's not how we met, exactly, but I'd say it is where we became friends.  We met in school -- we went to school together from 7th grade through 12th grade -- but didn't really have any classes together or hang out with the same people at school, but we did see each other a lot at work.  But that's not what I came here to write about. This time.

I don't remember when the new store opened, but I know I helped close the old store and open the new one.  Although after I graduated from high school in 1993, I was working several jobs and wasn't as super-involved with moving to the new store as I would have been if it was my sole full-time job.  

Then the humane society moved.  Twice, actually!  I started working there in late 1996.  One of the jobs I'd been working before that was as a home health aide, but I'd tweaked my back (thanks in part to having already hurt it in a car accident my senior year of high school) and decided not to pursue a career in nursing (please join me in a hearty round of laughter) so I got a part-time job doing data entry at the humane society.  The "office" I had there makes my current office space look huge, but I'll get to that later, too.  ;)  NO I'M NOT COMPLAINING!  ahem.  I worked there until the summer of 1997, when I moved to Illinois to join my hubby.  You see, he still worked for Wards -- in fact, he had gone through a series of promotions and was something like a Director of . . . sorry, hubby, I don't remember what your fancy title was, but he had been offered a job at the then-new warehouse in a Chicago suburb, right about the time we found out we were expecting a baby that would end up being our first and only successful pregnancy and the apple of my eye whom most you now know as Stone :D.  But that's not what I came here to write about, either; I just felt I had to explain why I left a job I loved dearly to move to freaking Illinois of all places.  And then a year later, Peder finally quit Wards and we moved back to Minnesota anyway with a 6-month-old baby and basically started all over again.

Well, he started all over again.  I got my old job at the humane society back (not the first amazing coincidence in my life, but definitely one that still gives me goosebumps!!) and so went back in the summer of 1998, but by that time the department I worked in had moved to a mobile office unit next to the main building.  So not a full-fledged across-town move, but still a move.  (Oh, and I also feel like it's worth mentioning that I wasn't just a part-time data entry person by this point, or really for the majority of my time there. I did start as a PT data entry person, but very shortly increased to FT and my title changed to Development Assistant. The humane society is now a huge organization here, having become a conglomerate of five local shelters, but back then it was one facility with a very small business office and fundraising department, so I basically entered all of the direct mail donations and helped with fundraising campaigns, and helped in other business office areas as needed.  To this day, it makes my heart happy seeing and hearing about how much they've grown, thinking about how small they used to be!)  Speaking of the merge, though -- shortly before I left the second and last time in 2000, the humane society I worked for had just merged with one of the other humane societies in the area, and our department was moved out of the mobile office unit (which we called The Palace because it was actually a double wide mobile trailer with no working restroom) and to a suburb about 10 minutes away.  The reason I left had nothing to do with the move; it was because we had since decided that it wasn't worth me working FT just to pay for daycare and our health insurance (even though my mom was providing daycare services for me, so I was getting a great deal -- but still, even working FT, my check covered insurance and family-discounted daycare and maybe half a tank of gas for my 1989 Suburban) so we were going to sell our house, turn my mother-in-law's house into a duplex, and move in with her so I could quit my job and be a FT stay-at-home mom while my hubby went to plumbing school for 5 years.

I had to go to the new office for about 3 days.  

And then, there was the Baldwin hospital move. I started working at the Baldwin hospital in September 2009 as a CNA (certified nursing assistant) about to start my core nursing classes for nursing school.  I left there officially in July 2016 as a PRN registered nurse, which is also the same month that the Baldwin Area Medical Center officially moved from their original location on 10th St/Hwy 63 in Baldwin and into the brand new hospital closer to I-94 on the newly-created Berg-something street, behind the A&W, and changed their name to Western WI Health.  That's when I officially left; however, I worked my last shift at BAMC on December 31, 2015, and a few days later started my new job that I guess I can stop calling my new job because I've been there over 5.5 years and counting now... 😌  

And it certainly has been a cluster these last few weeks.  Especially Friday.  Especially if you're like me, and like working in a clean, organized environment with as few extraneous random people invading your space as possible.  Which isn't possible when you and everyone else in the office is packing everything up and movers are coming in to take everything away and move it to the new office.  By the time I left on Friday afternoon, my office was no longer my safe haven; it was horrible.  There were yellow packing boxes everywhere, and bookshelves, and moving men wrapping said bookshelves and pushing stacks of yellow boxes, and so many people doing so many things and I was just in sensory overload...yuck.  I left without even taking pics of my old office for nostalgia's sake.  

So this is the first time I've actually been part of the move itself.  Over the past few weeks, I've been packing up my personal things -- not just because the official emails said that the moving company was only liable for moving company property, but also because I knew I was downsizing from being the sole occupant of a nice-sized office, to sharing office space and having a new space of my own that was approximately the space of a small cubicle.  

I still over-estimated the size of my new space.

So, Friday was our last day at the St. Paul office.  As I said above, I've been bringing my personal stuff (which consisted of some knick-knacks and seasonal decorations, but also some healthcare related stuff like books, OK a lot of books...) home for a few weeks.  The problem being that I'm also trying to declutter my home since we're planning on moving soon, too, and honestly the reason those books ended up at work in the first place is because I didn't want them at home anymore.  Long story short, I've got small bags full of books everywhere now -- some in the living room, some in the Nox, some in the truck.  And room for none of them at work.  And I have a strict policy against using my vehicles as storage, so they need to come out of there and, I guess, into the house.  UGH! In case you were wondering, the reason they're in small bags is because books are heavy and small bags of them are easier to transport than big bags of them. So, there.

Saturday morning I made my first trip inside the new clinic.  I'd driven past it a few times before, but Saturday I was armed with my all-access badge and went in with the intentions of unpacking and setting up my office area so I don't have to do it on Monday morning.  And before you call me an overachiever, I'm not -- I have clinic Monday morning, so I literally won't have time to unpack on Monday when everyone else is unpacking.  I am already nervous about Monday morning clinic because we'll be in a new place, I am NOT going to add to my stress by not knowing where any of my supplies are!  

My first impressions? Wow.  It definitely feels like a new workplace.  It's all bright and clean and new and strange,. Familiar things are in different places.  Based on the blueprints we were shown on the layouts of our offices, I chose my desk spot because it was in the corner, away from the door, and didn't have another desk next to it; so imagine my surprise when I got there and found my office set up completely backward from the blueprint I had seen.  That is, the number for the desk I had carefully and thoughtfully selected was assigned to the desk closest to the door with another desk next to it.  I took a deep breath, and then another one, and then said "oh, well!" and commenced unpacking.  What difference does it really make?!  The computers were already hooked up and everything.  I'm an introvert who isn't used to sharing an office. I'm also flexible and adaptable in the workplace.  ;)

So, with that move basically done on my part -- just have to figure out what to do with the crap that either won't fit in the new space, or doesn't have an obvious new space to fit in yet (mostly decorations and comfort items), and get used to where supplies are now kept, and figure out the exam room situation and everything else that makes it feel like I've started a new job -- maybe the Home Moving gods will smile upon us sometime soon! UGH.

I mean, the good news is that we haven't had any showings cancelled recently due to the sellers accepting another offer while we were waiting for our showing appointment.  Hopefully that curse is broken.  The last few showings have actually happened on the first day that the properties in question went active on the MLS (not sure if that's correct terminology, I'm basing this on what I've picked up from our realtor and what I've seen used in online listings).  Our curse now, and believe me that curse is the key word here (but as a verb rather than a noun) is that the game has changed.  Or we expected it to be very different.  It's "only" been 17 years since we bought a house, but we both thought the game would be pretty much the same.  I don't know if this is a recent change, or what, but it's taken some adjusting, and I think we finally get the new rules.

Apparently now, instead of the seller setting the asking price at more than what they want and leaving room to bargain with the hopeful buyers in their favor (so the buyers feel like they're getting a deal, lol), the thing now is to set the asking price for less than what they want and get a bidding war going.  Which is a problem, because we're not into bidding wars.  It actually kind of pisses me off, because I feel like - if you want xyz for what you're selling, list it for xyz or even xyz+100 and be willing to come down a bit.  Don't list it for xyz and then ignore the first offer you get for xyz because you're going to hold out and see if anyone offers you more.

Because that's what happened this week.  We found a place we liked -- it almost met the Trifecta of Happiness, it didn't quite have the outbuildings we needed but we liked it so much we decided we could make it work, so the same night that we looked at it, we texted our realtor and asked him to put in an offer for the full asking price.  We debated over whether to put our offer in right away or not, knowing that there were lots of other showings going on as well, and ultimately felt that being the first offer in would be to our advantage.  

We were wrong!  And that makes me mad.  So mad that I wouldn't even want that place anymore.  We made a good, honest offer of the asking price, and didn't get any personal response.  Not even a decline of our offer.  We were just ignored, and the seller(s) announced that they were expecting multiple offers and wanted all interested parties to submit their best offers by Saturday at some specific time for consideration.  Like I said -- I was (still am) just angry, disheartened, and mad about being flat-out ignored and disrespected for offering WHAT THEY WERE ASKING that we didn't even ask our realtor to re-submit our offer (which was only valid, I think, until Friday night).  Seriously!  That WAS my best offer and it was exactly what you asked for, and if that's not what you wanted in the first place then forget it. I'm out. And it's not just the principle, either, it's the money.  No matter what the comps and the appraisals say, any material item is still only worth what someone will pay for it -- and for us, that place was not worth paying more than asking price.  If it's worth more than that to someone else, more power to them.  God has something better planned for us.

At least we're getting closer.  One of these times, we're bound to find the window He's opened for us!

On that note, I'm signing off.  I have to get to bed early tonight.  I timed my new drive to work on Saturday (well, one possible route -- there are now many, many possible options) and it will take me about 10 minutes longer than usual.  However, the walk from my parking spot to the building is significantly less now (from 3 blocks to, um, across a parking lot) so it will probably even out.  My point being, I don't have spare time in the morning anymore.  

TTYL!

If I had patience, I'd work in healthcare!

Wokka wokka wokka!

Well...we didn't get the house that I was blabbering about in my last blog posts. And you know what?  I'm okay with that.  I mean, I literally have to be, because it's not something I can change anyway, right?  

I'd be lying if I didn't say I wasn't beside myself with impatience yesterday.  Not knowing was very difficult.  For the most part, I was prepared to hear that we wouldn't get it, although a small part of me was hoping that we'd be chosen by some miracle.  It was kind of like the whole adoption thing again, oddly enough.  

But the house was beautiful!  It was almost too nice. I mean, I feel like I would've been living in someone else's house all the time.  It had beautiful built-in custom cabinets, and as my hubby said, everything was top of the line when it was built 22 years ago.  It was more than twice the size of our current house, and it was big and roomy but felt cozy and comfortable.  Oh, well.  I was sad for about 10 minutes.  I had tears in my eyes when I texted my friend that I felt like it was too nice for us, anyway.  (Of course she quickly corrected me and I know that's not actually the truth, but I felt like I had to say it and cry for a few minutes and get it out of my system. Done!)

It's so odd, though, isn't it?  How things work out.  How God works.  Y'all know I'm Christian and spiritual like that, so deal with it.  :D  When God closes a door, He opens a window.  I've been reminding myself that when God says "no" to what we think the plan should be, it's because He has something better planned.  And I tell you, after seeing that house, I was like -- I don't know how there could be anything better than this! We've looked at so many houses this summer, this last one was by far the nicest house we've seen. Like, we wouldn't have had to do ANY work to it, just move in and sit back and enjoy not having to do any home projects for a while.  I can't even imagine what that's like.  

But, just when you think there's no other option, God taps you on the shoulder and reminds you that He's in control.  Not my will, but His.  Always, always, always.  If that ain't the story of my life, I don't know what is...

lim·bo /ˈlimbō/

From the world according to Wikipedia:

In Catholic theology, Limbo (Latin limbus, edge or boundary, referring to the edge of Hell) is the viewpoint concerning the afterlife condition of those who die in original sin without being assigned to the Hell of the Damned.

From the world according to me, employing both poetic license and selective usage after reading the above: Yes, I definitely feel like I'm in the Hell of the Damned.

Our offer has been submitted.  The sellers are going to review all offers tomorrow after 9am.  I have so many questions...

* What does "after 9am" mean, exactly? Does that mean 9:01am, or noon, or Tuesday?

* How many other offers are there? I know there is at least one, put in before ours.  How many other offers could possibly have gone in after ours?  The property showed up on one of the real estate sites as a "hot property"; why? Is that because a lot of people have clicked on their link (and if so, how many of those were me?!)?  If each showing takes one hour, and they had non-stop showings all day Saturday and today, and every showing resulted in an offer, how many possible offers are we talking about?!

* I mean, it's probably unlikely that they had non-stop showings all day Saturday and today, right? And that every single showing resulted in an offer.  Surely, not every one who looked at it thought it would be the ideal place for them.  

* Why are the sellers going to wait until tomorrow at 9am? Why wouldn't they look tonight? There probably aren't any more showings tonight.  I'd want to get a head start on that. They're probably as eager to sell the place as any potential buyers are to buy it.  

* What if they don't accept our offer? Would they counter it, or just flat-out refuse it?

* What if they DO accept our offer??

* What if they accept none of the offers?

I feel like Schroedinger's Cat right now.  Our decision has been made, the offer is put out there, there is nothing to do but wait. And pray.  I'm not praying that we get accepted, I'm praying that God's will is done and that He gives me the strength to accept His will.  Mostly the latter ;).  I'm praying that He helps me stay calm and realize that if it doesn't work out according to our plan, it's because He has a reason and a better plan in store for us.  Not my will, but His.  

But it is so difficult to not think about or talk about things like, how should we do this or that?  Where should we put this? What should we put there?  Things like that have been on the tip of my tongue all day, but I won't let myself say them because I don't know if the offer is accepted or not.  Every now and then, pre-planning thoughts about packing and preparing for moving come up -- but I don't know what to do with those plans yet.  We're in limbo.  In a few weeks, we'll close on our current house and we may or may not have an idea where we'll be living next.  

I am not a patient person.  Read the first part of this blog from way back when if you don't believe me.

So I am trying my best not to think about the fact that our future is currently relying on some very nice people I don't even know personally (even though I've looked carefully at nearly every corner of their home) to decide whether or not they like the conditions which we set forth and offered to them in exchange for the purchase of their home.  NO BIG DEAL, RIGHT?!?!

Uggggggggg hashtag adulting is hard dot com.

I'm going to bed. TTYL!

You're not the only one with mixed emotions...

Murphy's Law typically states, "Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong."  

Muphry's Law, in comparison, tells us that "If you write anything criticizing editing or proofreading, there will be a fault of some kind in what you have written."

Other proven yet relatively insignificant facts: the day we leave to go out of town, a property will come up for sale that meets our criteria and we will miss out on it because we will be out of town. This happened last month when we went to the Black Hills, and also last week when we went to Memphis.,

Oh, well.  The hubby and I both have a strong conviction that if it doesn't happen, it wasn't meant to be.  In regards to lots of things, but I'm primarily speaking about the house-hunting thing here.  So when we get that call (figuratively speaking) two hours before our scheduled appointment, letting us know the showing has been cancelled because the sellers accepted another offer, that means it wasn't meant to be. We don't know why, but it wasn't.  Ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do and die.

We looked at two houses this week.  One of them was, well, it looked better online than it did in person.  Although it was mighty interesting in person as well.  I've learned something about myself on this house search -- I want to live in an interesting house.  I discovered this when I was trying to describe to a friend why I wasn't enthused about a particular house that looked good "on paper" but I just wasn't really excited about the possibility of making an offer on -- it was just a boring house.  I don't want to live in a boring house for the rest of my life.  Or ever.  

I think that's my problem with apartments, too.  I've only lived in one apartment in my life (not counting the one we lived in temporarily in Illinois when I was pregnant with Stone, because Peder needed a place to live while working and house-hunting and I still lived and worked in St. Paul) and the layout was exactly the same as every other apartment in the building. And it was boring. You just can't get creative with three rooms.  Here's the living room, here's the kitchen/dining room, here's the bedroom.  Wow! So exciting.  But I knew I wouldn't be living there forever and it was only $385 per month (which was still a good portion of my income back in 1994...) so, whatever. I like houses with character.

The first house we looked at this week definitely had character. It definitely needed some interior updating (of the decorating type) but for most of the showing we were like -- OK, we could work with this.  Then we got to the basement. Not the interesting finished basement with the wood paneling and brick fireplace that had a Very Brady feel, but the cave basement like the one we have.  It was a lot like our current basement. In fact, it was a lot like our current basement was during the Flood of 2020.  (Side note: we have since installed a sump pump in our basement and it has remained dry, never mind the fact that we are in a drought...) OK, slight exaggeration.  But it did have a nice water feature that wasn't advertised.  I was bummed, because that was a Definite No.  It was about that time I admitted to myself that I'd been ignoring the smell of mold that permeated the house.  Denial ain't just a river!

But the second house we looked at...I don't want to say much about it yet because we're making an offer on it and I don't want to jinx anything.  Because even though I do believe in faith and destiny, I'm also still very superstitious about certain things.  And I also tend to get my hopes up very easily and even though I'm telling myself right now that I'll be alright if this doesn't go through, I know I'll be bummed.  Anyway...keep your fingers crossed for us if you would, please, okay?  At one point in my life I would've been like, oh my gosh I am going to just DIE if we don't get this house!! But right now I'm like, I would love to get this house and I really hope we get it but if we don't...we'll keep looking.  I won't die. Life will go on.  

Fingers. Crossed.  

There is at least one other offer on it already. The sellers are reviewing the offers on Monday morning.  

Anyway, so we went to Memphis last week. Graceland was even more amazing than I thought it would be!  We also went to Tupelo, which is where Elvis was born, and saw his birthplace. As in the actual home where he was born.  But if you're FB friends with me, you've seen all the pics already -- or you have access to the pics, anyway.  I have to say, one of the coolest things EVER for me was when we were touring Sun Studios (where Elvis got his start, but also the site of so many other cool things) in the very same recording studio where Elvis recorded "That's Alright," and the tour guide played the actual song...y'all, I got goosebumps and watery eyes.  It was the most incredible experience.  To be in the very same room where that song was recorded, and to be listening to it... I was so geeked out after that!  OK, I was geeked out the day before that when we toured Graceland, because we had the VIP tour so we got to see his cars and motorcycles and all kinds of cool stuff.  We were there for about six hours.  

Alright, I just got word that our realtor sent some papers over for us to look at and approve. AAAHHHHH!  Here we go on a ride I thought I'd never be taking again. Wish us luck!

Insert witty title here.

 So many things, I don't even know where to start!

I'm an emotional wreck lately.  I'm also almost out of phentermine so have been cutting my dose back to make it last longer, I wonder if that has anything to do with it?  I have to see my doctor before she'll renew my prescription, and every time I think of that, it's a time like right now when I can't exactly call and make an appointment because it's Saturday afternoon and their office is closed.  Hold on, I'm going to set a reminder on my phone for Monday at 8am so I remember to call and make that appointment. BRB

There. That's done.  Ok, so, yeah.  I'm spiraling downward again, and I can blame it on a few different things:

1. My birthday is on Friday.  Yay!  I don't want to be "older" anymore.  I know, I know; "it's better than the alternative," and honestly I'm not really one of those people who is all anti-birthday (because honestly I'm one of those people who is all about having a day about ME, ha ha ha).  I just get emotional thinking about everyone getting older.  Mostly my parents.

But on a good note, our anniversary is also on Friday!  Yep, that's right, kids; in case you didn't already know, my hubby and I share the same birthday (same year, too) and we got married on that day, on our 22nd birthdays.  This isn't just any old anniversary, though; this year will be our 25th anniversary!  WOO-HOO!!  Take that, all you losers who said we wouldn't make it.  

Actually, I'm only aware of one loser who said we wouldn't make it: my hubby's ex-girlfriend.  😂  If there were others who shared that sentiment, I don't know who they were, and I don't really care anymore because, like I said...twenty-five years, bitches.  

2. The one-year anniversary of Luger's death is next Saturday.  I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!!!  Max is doing well but he turned 9 at the beginning of the summer and is obviously not a young dog anymore.  That makes me sad.

Alright. I'll quit making a list.  I'm just frustrated lately.  It seems like every time we find a house we like, the sellers accept an offer on it literally hours before we are scheduled to see it.  I know I've written about this before, and it's only happened one more time since then, but it is so very heart-breaking.  There was this house that's been on my list since the beginning of the summer that we finally decided to go look at, and I was looking forward to it but was just waiting all day for that message to come through saying our showing was cancelled.  I didn't see any messages, so I left work "on time" (which is another story) and got home and one of the first things I said to my hubby was some joke along the lines of how funny it was that we didn't get a message from our realtor yet saying the showing was cancelled.

The hubby just looked at me and didn't laugh or smile and said, "Didn't you get his message?"

I was like -- "ARE YOU F***ING KIDDING ME?!?" only I said the real "f" word, because I'm super classy like that 😇.  Checked my phone and, sure enough, there was the message that came through at about 1:30pm that day saying that a contingent offer had been accepted on the house the day prior BUT we were still welcome to tour it in case the contingency stipulation fell through.  So we went ahead and toured it anyway, which was painful because I liked the place more than I thought I would and more than I wanted to given that it's unlikely we'll get a chance to make an offer.

It just seems like everything that comes up for sale lately is either 100-200k more than we want to pay, or the house needs too much work.  And it's frustrating because when I look at places that have sold in the last 6-12 months, there are places that meet the Trifecta of Happiness but we weren't looking at that time.  I don't understand it.  Even the place we looked at this week...on the county website, it is appraised at HALF of what they are asking for it.  Where do people come up with these asking prices?!?  Alright, I'll quit now. We'll find our place.  I have faith! 

Another frustration is work.  I don't know what to do about it. Our office is moving to a new building about 10-15 minutes farther away from where we currently are, and I have this fear that I'm going to hate the drive.  I know it's only 15 minutes farther, but that's an extra 30 minutes of my day in the car.  And we're planning on moving soon, most likely farther away from the cities, which will add even more time to my commute.  I still get to work from home about half the time (depending on the week), but who knows how long that will last.  I'm trying not to worry too much about it until there's something to worry about, but I do need to be prepared.  The big move is less than a month away now.  I love my job!  To be honest, I have looked at other options, like remote jobs, but I don't think I could leave my job.  I love my patients.  I enjoy working with the providers I work with.  I feel like this is where I belong, making connections with real people whom I get to see in person occasionally and focusing on one specialty.  I don't know; we'll see.  I will know if/when the time is right, and it's not.  It's tough right now because our department is short-staffed and some of our providers who have been there from the beginning have recently left or retired....I won't go into all the details but it's just a very busy time regardless of COVID and we are all feeling it. And it's not going to be over for a while.  But that's the nature of nursing, isn't it?!

Sigh.

There have been some really good things going on, too, and for those I am incredibly grateful!

I got to spend a couple of days with my in-laws -- I know you're thinking that should go under the "frustrating" part, ha ha, but it was actually a really fun time.  Our niece (my hubby's brother's daughter) is getting married in October so we aunts on this branch of the family tree had a shower for her earlier this month, and I helped my sister-in-laws (or should that be sisters-in-law?) with the shower.  If you really know me, you know that I'm super shy and not the kind of person to jump in and say, Yes! I will help plan a party! because I'm just not a party-planning kind of person. So I surprised even myself when I did just that.  Well, my SIL sent out an email asking for help picking up some of the items and I offered to help set up etc. as well. I'm so glad I did! It was nice to just spend some time with them (my husband's sisters).  I have a horrible relationship with my own sister, so maybe part of that was just craving a sisterly relationship.  Regardless, it was a highlight for me, and the shower turned out wonderfully, and I wish I could spend more time with my husband's sisters and am so thankful that they treat me like one of the family.  

We got the camper back!  This actually happened the day of the bridal shower, which was a Saturday. I was bummed because I wanted to go with to pick it up -- we were going to make a camping trip out of it!  Alas, that did not happen.  The hubby ended up getting up at the butt-crack of dawn and driving solo across the entire state of Wisconsin in order to get to the shop before they closed at noon (and not be the guy who rolls in at 11:58am).  He waffled about whether to drive back the same day, or get a campsite for the night, and ultimately decided to come back the same day.  It's about a 5.5 hour drive one-way, for perspective, but he got it done and we got the camper back, and (since I know you're dying to know this!) he stopped at the nearest dumping station ASAP and emptied the black and grey tanks and amazingly, no permanent damage has been done!  WHEW.  So relieved! You don't even want to know what I was imagining...

Anywho, so since we got the camper back just about 11 days before our vacation to the Black Hills, the hubby was able to call and cancel our hotel reservations and re-make campground reservations instead.  Not the same campground reservations as we'd originally had, but that didn't matter; what did matter is that we were going to be camping in the Black Hills and all was again right with the world! 

We just got back from that trip earlier this week. It was amazing!  Although, I'm not going to say "I told you so!" but when the hubby said we were going to drive from home to Hill City in one day, even though I told him that my Dad would always make it a 2-day trip when we went out there... well, I did try a couple of times to convince him otherwise.  However, he made an excellent point: we only had 5 days for our trip.  Besides, the last time I was there was 30 years ago, so maybe I was just remembering it differently.  And, unlike when we drove out there when I was a kid, there are TWO drivers, so we could share the driving and it wouldn't be so bad, right?

We made it in one day.  It was a long day, and we ended up leaving a day earlier than we'd planned because we didn't want to spend the last day driving 12 hours again, but we still had a great time and did all the things we wanted to do this time.  :)  Like I said above, my family used to go out there every year when I was little, but I hadn't been there in about 30 years.  In a way, it felt like I was going home after a very long absence.  I was kind of leery of taking this trip at first, kind of afraid that the hubby wouldn't like it after all the hype from my parents (who absolutely LOVE the Black Hills) and afraid that it wouldn't be as cool now as it was in my memories.  But I needn't have worried.  He enjoyed it very much, and I found it all -- the history, the scenery, and especially the wildlife -- even more interesting than I ever did as a kid.  Of course, I found the touristy crap even more hokey, too... but the scenery more than made up for that.  I was kind of sad that there were no Indians with horses standing on the corner of the touristy little Wild West towns; I don't know if they're not there anymore because tourist season is winding down, or because of COVID, or for liability reasons, or what, but I did love going through those towns and seeing the horses and the hokey little horse-drawn wagons pulling tourists down the street, when I was little.

ANYWAY...so we got back from that, with no major issues with the camper!  There are always minor issues with the camper.  There is some kind of black thin fabric underneath it, I don't know what it's purpose is, but it has been falling off probably since the first trip out.  We stopped at one gas station and a whole big section of this fabric was literally hanging on by a thread under the camper.  Also, some of the trim around one of the wheel wells came off.  Just driving it.  But nothing major.  When we bought our camper, even the salesperson said that this brand is known for churning these campers out as quickly as possible and cutting corners in order to do so, so honestly, we know they're not the highest quality out there.  "You get what you pay for," right?  And we got a great deal on this camper.  :) I love our camper, but it's got quality issues.  Little, annoying things so far *knock on wood*.  But it doesn't leak and it pulls straight, and it's fun.  We're getting our money's worth out of it, and we know it's not going to last forever, and we know it's not going to be our last camper.  But we had to upgrade from the Shasta Friendship 16, because we're old (haha) and enjoy the finer things in life, such as real mattresses and indoor plumbing.  

We're going on another vacation this week.  So weird, we just got back and now we're going again, and it's not even work-related!  We're not camping this time, bummer.  We're flying to Memphis for the long weekend (and to celebrate our birthaversaries).  Not sure what we'll do there, other than tour Graceland.  I guess we'll see!  I'm not looking forward to flying at all.  Airplanes are too germy, and I felt that way even before COVID.  After we went to Hawaii, I was so sick afterward -- I had strep and bronchitis and if you know me and my man-cold self, I felt like I was on my deathbed.  From being in a stupid germy tin can for 12 hours.  Ever since then, being in airplanes gives me the heebie-jeebies, imagining all that recirculated (GERMY!) air going around and around for hours and hours.  At least this time, we'll have masks.  

The other rotten thing that's happened lately that I really don't want to talk about yet because I WILL start to cry is that my BFF moved to the other side of the country.  I've known for a few years that this was coming, eventually, but it was one of those things that just suddenly hit me at once because I was like, it's not like she's dropping off the face of the planet and I'll never get to talk to her again; we mostly text and message each other anyway (because I don't do phone calls), so it'll still be like that, we'll just be farther away and won't be able to have spontaneous trips to Hobby Lobby or the casino.  But now that it's actually happened, I don't want to talk about it right now. 

On that note, oh! One other good thing that's happened lately. I've been losing weight :D again :D :D and am almost back down under 200!  I was hoping to be under 200 by my birthday...which is, when? Weren't you paying attention?? I've only mentioned it like twice already!!  UGH.  It's like no one even reads anything I write.  That's OK, I write for myself more than anything, anyway.  I was hoping to be under 200 by my birthday, and it's going to be close but I don't think I'll make it.  But I think it's a noticeable difference since the beginning of the year, and even if other people don't notice it, clothes that were once snug on me are now loose-fitting, and I can see parts of my kneecaps that used to be encased in fatty-fat-fat, and my elbows have points again, and my shoes are almost too big again, and I think I'm down at least one chin.  I don't know for sure how much I've lost because my scale at home is a piece of crap and isn't very accurate, but by the scale at work I've lost 20 pounds since the beginning of summer.  Go, me!  I'm not done yet, I have a lot more to lose.  And this time I am going to keep it off!!

Alright, that's all I have for now.  TTYL!

Changes aren't permanent...

...but change is!!

Remember when we were in school, and got to the ages where we started signing things for our friends before school was out for the summer? I think it started around 5th or 6th grade when we'd hand out the little wallet-sized prints of our school pictures to our friends and classmates, and we'd write cute little messages on the back and stuff.  I'm sure that practice is long obsolete thanks to digital photos, smartphones, and social media, but back then, sharing school pics was a vital tool in documenting our year, before we had yearbooks.  

*blows dust off rocking chair*

And back when I was in school, we didn't get yearbooks until the 7th grade, which was known as "junior high school".  And they were paperback, not hardcover.  And our junior high school was only two grades, 7th and 8th.  Before that, we were in elementary school, and after that, we were in high school.  It was a simpler time.  We didn't need to be told we were in the middle; we already knew.

😄😄😄

If we wanted to have "yearbooks" before 7th grade, we might've taken what was left of a notebook and had our friends sign it.  Of course, we'd tear out the pages of actual, like, notes and stuff, first.  Maybe we'd even go buy a brand new, cute notebook for the occasion, but likely not because school supplies were expensive during the off-season.  Maybe we'd use a folder or our Trapper Keeper or something other than a notebook for our friends to sign, instead.  Regardless, no matter what it was we were signing, or when, someone would undoubtedly write: "Stay as sweet as you are!"

Gag me with a spoon! :P

There were other variations: Stay as nice as you are, stay as smart as you are, Stay as cute as you are, Stay just the way you are, but the sentiment was the same: don't ever change.  In fact, those words were used sometimes, too: "Don't ever change!"  At the time, that seemed like such a nice thing to say.  But now?  WTAF!?  Why would you tell me not to change?!  What made you think I wanted to be a quiet, nerdy, shy little pipsqueak rule-following teacher's pet with crippling social anxiety who was afraid to stand up for herself for the rest of her life?!?

Sorry, then-friends.  I did not stay as sweet as I was.  Life happened, as it does to the best of us.  I didn't stay as smart, either; I got SMARTER! Ha, ha, ha.  Alright, whatever.  This is not what I intended to sit down and write about.

The house hunt continues.  I need to come up with a better name for it than "the house hunt".  Something will come to me soon.  It's kind of scary: as I write this, sitting just out of arm's reach is a stack of paperwork that declares our intentions to make our little home sweet home the property of someone else.  This place where we've lived for the last 17 years, that up until recently I thought was going to be our home forever.  I'm not going to lie and say that moving from here has ever been an easy decision, and we're only in the very beginning processes!  But taking these first few steps to make it REAL are making it seem, you know...real.  So real that it's making me teary-eyed while typing this.  Dammit!  This isn't even the hard part yet.  The hard part will be packing up our things and leaving one day.

I don't think I've mentioned yet that my workplace is also moving, very soon.  In about a month, to be exact.  From downtown St. Paul, to Roseville.  From the 2nd floor of a 5-floor medical specialty building on the campus of a busy medical area (seriously -- 2 hospitals and 3 medical specialty buildings (maybe more, I'm too lazy to actually count them all right now) in a busy metro location, to the first floor of a 2-floor suburban-like brand new medical building, surrounded by mostly retail and chain restaurants.  It will be interesting, but truth be told, I'm scared as hell.  Change is scary.  When we moved from the city out here to a small town, I was scared that we would hate it once we actually got here.  When I left the hospital for my current job, I was scared that I would hate it once I actually got there.  So you can guess how I'm feeling about the upcoming clinic move.  It's a longer drive for me.  A different work environment.  It'll be like starting a new job, except we'll all be starting a new job at once.  And I won't have my own office anymore, pout.  I mean, it'll still be the same job, with the same people and the same patients.  Just a different place.  It'll be fine.  But it's change. 

Speaking of change...I was going to share a few more things that other people should know (if they don't already) about house hunting that I've learned recently, mm-kay?

1. If the basement is semi-finished, but has recently had the carpet pulled up and the drywall removed, it probably flooded.

2. Likewise, if the drywall on the basement walls is missing the bottom half, it probably flooded.

3. When looking at online listings, cross-reference everything.  If you find something you like on a site like Zillow, go to the originating site to double-check the status.

4. Do NOT, under any circumstances, get your hopes up about anything, ever.

5. And if you're buying a house from your parents, try not to talk about all the changes you plan to make as soon as your parents move out because it might make your mom sad because she's a sap like that sometimes, ok Stone?.

And one more topic change, because I seem to be typing awfully fast today, we FINALLY got our camper back!  I don't think I wrote about that in here, did I?  *pause for review* Egads, I did NOT!  Well, sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip...

Road America 2021.  Yee-HAW!!  4th of July weekend! Road America is this awesome racetrack located here in our very own state of residence where, long story short, the NASCAR Cup Series returned to race this year after a looooong absence (crap, I can't remember how long now! 58 years? 59 years?) and we were there!  We went to Road America (or RA for short) last year for the first time for the NASCAR, um, "other" series (alright, it's the Xfinity Cup Series but I still want to call it the Busch Series even though it's been the Xfinity Cup Series for most of my adult life) and had the time of our lives.  RA has kick-ass campground facilities as well as being a truly unique place to watch a race, and before the race was even over last year we'd decided we had to return again.  So when we found out shortly afterward that the Cup Series was returning this year, there wasn't even a question as to whether we would go or not.  We love us some NASCAR, and we love us some camping, so BAM!  Bring it on!

And so, RA brought it, and we brought it, too.  We packed it all up in our trusty little Forest River Wildwood X-Lite camper and our trusty little Chevy Silverado crew cab pickup, and headed east. Road America or BUST!!  (I so wanted to write that on the camper windows.  I can turn into a crazy NASCAR fan on a dime. You wouldn't believe it. And no alcohol is involved!!)  

As you do when travelling whilst pulling a camper (or any trailer, really), whenever you stop for gas, or "rest", or anything in between, you get out and check everything to make sure it looks good.  You make sure everything is still attached and nothing is falling apart, that the doors are still closed and the tires are still inflated, etc. etc.  I've been doing this since I was little.  I don't always know what I'm looking for, lol, but sometimes I know when things don't look "right".  Kind of like when I open up the hood and look at a car's engine compartment.  But, I digress.

Everything looked fine the whole way there.  The trip was uneventful, but long.  5 hours or so.  We finally got there, and waited in line to get in (which wasn't too bad), and the hubby got the camper backed into our spot (which also wasn't too bad, says the person who can't back a trailer to save her life) and it was when we were getting the camper settled and leveled that I noticed It.  One of the wheels on the left side. The hub cap was missing and it looked...wrong.  Again, I couldn't say exactly what was wrong with it, but I knew it was wrong, and the fact that it's got dual axles so it was literally right next to a completely normal wheel helped proved my point: it looked very wrong.  So I called my hubby over to show him.

The fact that he didn't say anything at first scared me.  "Is that bad?" I asked.

It was probably a good thing I couldn't see his face.  "Yep."

"How bad?"  

I don't remember if he didn't answer, or just didn't answer soon enough for me.

"Are we stuck here?"

"Yep."

And that, boys and girls, was the official Beginning of the Story.  

To sum the rest of it up, it turned out that we lost the wheel bearing and were very blessed that we didn't lose the tire!  And the last time we had stopped and checked everything was about 20 minutes away from the campground, so....WHEW! God was watching out for us!!

There are a few side stories to this.  The camper is still under warranty, so the hubby called that day (mind you, this was the Thursday before the 4th of July weekend) and the nice lady he talked to made arrangements for a tow truck to pick up the camper on Monday and take it to a local dealership to be repaired.  No problem, we could either stick around and wait for it, or come back the next weekend and get it, depending on how long it would take.  Not ideal, but not the worst thing to happen. Frustrating, yes, but we were there to have fun so we were going to have fun!! (Eventually!)

So, Monday morning came around, and when the tow truck driver called to confirm they were coming, they said that they weren't sure they could tow a camper.  They thought we had a motorhome, not a travel trailer.  They'd call back and let us know.  In the meantime, hubby tried calling the dealership where we were supposed to be taking the camper to confirm that they knew we were coming.  At first there was no answer, but it was also just before 8am -- still, we weren't sure if they were open or not, since it was the Monday after 4th of July and a lot of places were observing the holiday that day.  After some tense moments, hubby confirmed that no, the dealership was NOT expecting us; and oh yeah, by the way, they also did not service travel trailers, anyway.  Nice!  So, while waiting for a call back from the tow truck people, the hubby found a local RV repair shop and confirmed that they could take a look at our camper. Sometime that week.  In the meantime, the tow truck people called and said they were sending out a different truck.  

The other truck got there, and instead of being a flatbed truck like we'd thought, it was just a service van. Turns out, the guy just kind of chocked up the bad wheel so we could still tow the camper, and we limped it along like that to the shop.  But wait! We went to the wrong shop at first.  Because the place had two locations.  One is the showroom and parts center, and one is the shop.  The website wasn't totally clear on that.  Since the number we called was the showroom and parts center, that's where we went.  The shop was another half hour away.  Fun, fun, fun!

We FINALLY got the camper to the shop and dropped it off.  And headed home without it.  Later that week, the hubby got a call letting us know that they'd need to replace the whole frickin' axle.  Apparently, it got so hot that the axle welded to the wheel (?) and they needed to replace the whole axle.  The hubby said Of course, do it, we're not driving it home the way it is.  They said it would be about 6 weeks to get the axle in stock.  What were we going to say?!  We had no choice.  

The problem was, we were planning on going camping in South Dakota in about six weeks.  Who knew if we'd have the camper back by then? At that rate, it didn't seem likely.  So, we cancelled our camping reservations and changed them to hotel reservations.  I was bummed.  It's just not the same!!  

BUT, and now I really have to wrap this up....last Friday, the hubby got a text that the camper was finished! So he went the next day and picked it up, and was able to cancel the hotel reservations and find a couple of campsites, and South Dakota camping trip is BACK ON!!!  

And here's another thing we learned: you CAN leave the black and grey tanks half-full (or so) for about a month in the summer without being dumped without any permanent damage!!  No solids, though.  Just liquids.  

TTFN!