Arrivals

Our daughter, son-in-law and grandson rolled in from Wyoming at about midnight on Monday--make that the very wee hours of Tuesday morning.  A wrong turn delayed them for a bit, then they lost cell phone coverage.  They pulled into the local Wal Mart and went into the electronics dept hoping to sort the phones.  The man in charge there assured them that he "growed up in Gradyville" and would be going off work shortly and could lead them to our turn-off.

We were pacing the floor, wondering what had happened, so got in our car and drove up the road just in time to meet M. carefully maneuvering the rental truck onto the narrow winding road.

After greetings and hearing the short version of their trip we all very belatedly went to bed!

It was pouring rain all evening and still misty and dank in the morning.  By noon there were welcoming sunny skies, a chance to admire the flowering trees and shrubs.

Daughter G. bundled in her Dad's jacket bringing her Maine Coon Cat in to be reacquainted with us.

The rental truck has to be turned into the local U-Haul depot today.

The decision was made to store belongings here and there in our various barns rather than

 in a storage unit in town.

Worldly goods being removed from the truck.

Daughter is very attached to that faded pink bathrobe--I think its the equivalent of a "Linus blanket."

As they say in the South, "Lawd, have mercy!"

Our garage is filling up.

I am definitely in "flash back" mode--this reminds me of way too many moves

in the past decade.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could really cull our belongings and "travel light?"

M. and G. are delighted with the Kentucky countryside--all the greeness,

the songs of the mockingbirds each morning and

the "peepers" singing from the creek every evening.

They just need to find a house--a daunting prospect.

Grandson D. is [I think] a bit stunned--and maybe not too anxious to be introduced as the new kid at the local high school!

We predict that before his first week there is out the cheerleaders will be competing for his attention.

Day Two of the Moving Adventure

I have photos of the convoy of vehicles which comprise our Wyoming to Kentucky move, but didn't get the camera in to the motel room--I didn't get the toothpaste in either, to J's distress.
We left Lander, WY a bit after noon on Thursday, stopped at the truckstop in Riverton for the first proper meal of the day and lumbered onto the highway an hour later just as light snow began to fall.
We enjoyed several days of deceptively spring-like weather which on Wednesday began to change omminously at about dusk.  A tiny sliver of moon came out, like a slice of muskmelon balanced on a vast dark platter. By morning dirty clouds hung over the mountains and the foothills had a new coating of snow.
As we finished loading the various vehicles the wind from the northwest cut sharply and trudging through the mud from the cabin to the motor home [endless trips with my hand full of oddments] I sometimes felt cold drops of rain on my face.
The last item of furniture to be removed from the cabin was the bed.  While our son and son-in-law stood waiting in the outer room, J and I attempted to take down the bed.  The cats, distressed by the uproar of emptying the main room had, sensibly in their thinking, taken refuge under the bed and several darted out in fright as we lifted off the mattress. Mrs. Beasley and my darling Teasel inserted themselves up inside the box spring.  Mrs. B. howled as J stood the spring on end, but seeing her hiding place was threatened, she dropped to the floor and scurried to a corner.
Teasel wedged herself between the coils of the springs, held on for dear life and made dreadful utterances.  I managed to extract her and pop her into a cat carrier.
I transferred all the cat carriers to the motor home without any upsets, mopped the cabin floors for the last time and shut myself in the motor home with my charges.
I have an almost superstitious determination not to take last longing looks at a place I am leaving.  I don't do goodbyes very well, a failing shared by nearly everyone in our family. So, as we rumbled away from familiar territory I concentrated on soothing the cats.
J and I slept very comfortably in the motor home last night and the cats, liberated from the little bedroom to the larger territory of the motor home behaved very nicely.
Pebbles the Horse has thus far taken the trip well.  She has had several spritely walk abouts as well as feeds of hay, grain and water.
Today has been horrendous traveling--through a blizzard of heavy wet snow with the usual gusting cross winds of Nebraska slamming us relentlessly. The men plowed on doggedly, long after I wished we could admit that it was time to stop and take refuge from the storm.  I have to say that we couldn't have better or more skillful drivers than these three [J. our son Howard, and J's twin brother's older son.] 
In the interest of hot baths and a bit more space to spread ourselves, we have taken a motel room tonight, next door to Howard and his cousin. The cats have the whole of the motor home bedroom and tiny bathroom to themselves with a clean litter box and food and water topped up.
We crossed the Nebraska/Iowa border just before stopping for the night.  J. spoke to someone who had come from the easterly route that will be our direction tomorrow--it sounds like we may finally be out of the blizzard and into a mere rain by mid-day.

Seeds

Made it to the garden center for a lovely half hour choosing seeds with my gift certificate.  I worked in a green house during the transplanting season years ago.  Today the humid warmth in the hot houses and the scent of potting soil and tender green plants brought back pleasant memories.  I took time to walk along the paths which in a few months will be bordered with potted perennials and shrubs. Behind one of the hot houses were the peonies which had been potted up in the fall and then wintered over under a heap of wood shavings. They were uncovered to the warmth, but none had sprouted.  I looked at the tags and saw they were new varieties and I'm more interested in heirloom flowers.
Yes, QC, White Flower farms is the ultimate in wish books, and indeed, pricey.  Hopefully I can collect good plants a few at a time.  Will definitely try local sources [in KY] on-line as well as urseries I can visit.
I also bought today collapsable dog cages which can be used to transport the cats.  And cat litter--and cat food--and bottled water.
Space  in the vans is becoming tight and I have been warned I may have to part with or store some items.  How to choose?
Books, antiques, CATS, fabric and such have priority. The laptop is behaving annoyingly tonight.  Maybe its me--not sitting up straight and sort of leaning on the keyboard!

Bits and Pieces

Time is running out at the library today, the only place I can set up the laptop and work. 

I have several weighty essays keeping me awake at night as I compose them lying in the dark, but no time to work through one and get it out of my head and onto the screen.

The cats, although joyful at our return, have gotten the sniffles, likely from being moved into the cabin and crouching mournfully on the cold floors under the bed.  They look at us bleary-eyed, sneeze on us, but then cuddle up with stuffy purrs wanting to be comforted.

I'm watching their progress carefully wondering if a vet visit must be added to the frantic "to do" list in the next few days.  None of the cases seem to be life threatening,  no one has stopped eating.  They are rather like small children who don't know yet how to blow noses, and present a rather "snotty" appearance.
Pebbles is acting absolutely coltish since our return.  She adores J. and although some of her enthusiasm when we drive into the yard if food based [poor starving horse!] she has had a great deal to say to him and rushes at the fence with whinnies and whickers.

We tackled the storage shed and old barn yesterday, reuniting with some items which I had forgotten I owned but was immediately sure were cherished enough to be crammed into the moving process.
J. drove over South Pass and stayed Thursday night with Howard and Heidi and rumbled back yesterday morning with their large horse trailer.  The trailer is not meant to transport Pebbles who will have to be content with our humbler and smaller trailer.  It is meant to hold the overflow of household goods and J's many and expensive tools.

I do have to remind myself that the house we just sold is no longer ours and the new owners have every right to do it up to their own taste.  That is exactly what we will be doing in the little cottage--painting and some renovating, adding to the gardens which are already there. But, I haven't quite detached from this place yet, so feel a bit like some poor waif gazing from the humble cabin toward the lights of the "big house!"

Wyoming has been a huge change for me this past dozen years, as we were both bred and born in New England. South Central Kentucky where we are headed provides a landscape that seems almost familiar with its beautiful hardwood trees, green fields and historic buildings in every town square.

I think we're glad that the renovation of the land and cottage were untaken before we found it.  Much "dirty work" has been accomplished both inside and out. We caught it just in time to prevent new carpets going down.  We prefer wood or tile floors.  {If you think of many cats hawking hairballs on carpet, you understand!}
The encouraging words from my readers and "followers" during this hectic and exhausting time are so appreciated. There is the too well known physical work of packing and cleaning, the lack of time to rest and --at this point--the guest cabin is so cluttered with cats and belongings that merely being there isn't inspiring.

A friend pointed out that our designated day of leave-taking [Thursday] is also my birthday!  I was greatly surprised to hear that!

One of the nicest things on my "do before we leave" list is to drive to the local garden center and spend the gift certificate given to me by loving church members when my Dad died last fall.  I can choose veg and flower seeds with happy glee knowing that they will all grow where we are headed.

In the dark hours of listening to the cats wheeze, while trying to give J enough of the bed space so that he can sleep well, I conjure memories of spice pinks [were these the gilliflowers of English books?] lavender, scented thymes [Thank you, Angie, for reminding me of lemon thyme!] catnip to dry for the cats.  J. is eloquent on the subject of sweet corn, tomatoes, cucumbers--and the anticipation of planting good pasture grass to make hay for Pebbles.
Its all about holding on to enthusiasm and stamina at this point! 

The Muddle of Moving

I have been trying to avoid the nostalgia of "I"m doing this for the last time here," yet it seems inevitable.  The last batch of bread baked in my beautiful kitchen.

I seem to have been sorting and packing for weeks now, yet no one room is cleared.  Empty boxes are stacked in the living room with more in reserve in the garage.  Charlie and his tribe are enamoured of the boxes and crash in and out of them, playing hide and seek.

J. is nearly done with the renovation of the attic into an extra bedroom and bath. The bedroom is finished, an appealing space, rustic in nature, a quiet little retreat--which we will not get to enjoy.  He painted the bathroom this evening and has the floor to finish while our son-in-law, the plumber, finishes installing the fixtures.

Raisin, who has a rather neurotic nature, has decided in the midst of the muddle that she needs more attention.  Eggnog and Mrs. Beasley tend to stay out of the way, Eggnog in the comparative peace of the master bedroom, Mrs. B. under the bed.

Teasel is distressed by the confusion of the house.  She is Head Cat in Training [Raisin has held the dominant position for many years] and has to keep track of what goes on in her domain. She appears suddenly to twine about my ankles if I sit down, patrols anxiously and has rather more to say than usual.

Our quilt group is making a quilt to donate to a Habitat for Humanity house in town.  The woman who suggested the project chose blue and cream for the colors and star-themed blocks which we can make in 3-6-9 or 12 inch blocks. I discovered these scraps of dark blue and cream prints lurking on my sewing desk, although my fabric collection and all my quilting tools were among the first belongings I packed.

I took my scraps to the quilt shop and enjoyed the company there while I cut these pieces, then spent a pleasant evening hour making the blocks.  I could almost imagine that it was a "normal" past time--that is until I looked around at the curtainless windows, empty bookshelves, and the stark disorder of the room.  Hopefully I will see an e-mailed photo of the finished quilt some weeks from now.

It began to snow [again!] on Wednesday night and has continued at intervals--heavy wet stuff that clings to the roof and the trees.  The roads were horrid on Thursday morning when we had errands in town early and I had a mid-morning appointment to keep.  The ABS brakes on our Toyota Rav 4 are very touchy and I don't enjoy driving it in snow.  I was content to be delivered to my appointment and retrieved by the professional driver of the household.

I followed J. into town Friday morning on slightly better roads.  "Snort'n Nort'n" the 92 Dodge, went for a new windowshield and I puttered along behind in the red Dodge to pick up J. at the glass shop.

I very laboriously scrubbed all the kitchen dining area tile floor on Wednesday--bucket and brush, hands and knees method.  It was one of those jobs which has "wanted done" and I've been putting it off with token moppings.  I have made a trail of cardboard squares for us to walk in and out in the vain hope of leaving the floor clean for the buyers.

The plan is that the furniture will go into the van tomorrow.  Oh joy!

Waiting and Marking Time

As dawn came sulking in on Thursday morning, I realized new snow had sifted down during the dark hours.  I had been in the living room reading, a circle of cats around me, during the night, but there was no sound of wind to blow the snow against the windows. We had a few days of warmer temperatures and the old snow, too long with us, shriveled and receeded in sunken, grubby layers.

The deer have circled the dooryard, making fresh trails of pointy hoof prints in the new whiteness.

The photo above was taken late on Friday afternoon.

This was taken Saturday morning just as the sun opened one eye to the east. Sunrise was a pale peachy band of light quickly swallowed up in a grey sky. The foothills to the west have been swaddled in hovering gloom nearly all day.

I took this photo with the camera on the "night snapshot" setting which intensified a slight blue shadow and smoothed out the contours of the snowy yard. It was too cold on the west porch to fiddle with settings and try for a more realistically colored shot.

Back in the house I aimed the camera through the relatively clean window to record the clothespins bobbing on the line and the gnarled fingers of ice clutching the porch roof.

Raisin, the spoiled, beloved, bulemic cat-in-charge.

I have been researching special feline diet foods with the help of Heidi.  Yesterday J. and I ventured into the Wind River Mercantile and I handed over the proceeds of several hours quilt making hoping to present something that her majesty will eat and keep down.

In addition to regular "pukey days" Raisin has taken the notion that whatever meat is on our plates is surely more appealing than whatever has been offered to her.  As J. says, she prefers her steak medium done with sauce!

I've worked on quilt orders at home this week. Jemima keeps me company but gets easily bored. I love those plush brown paws curled over her nose.

The house we live in has been listed on the market for nearly a year.  During that time we have had two or perhaps three rather lackluster showings.  When the Baldwin Creek spec house finally was sold after months of delays, negotiations and head-banging frustrations, J. concluded that this was no time to continue in his trade of house building.  During better financial times we talked of selling the house we live in and building a more modest one, a "keeper", on the lot across the small pond. We told each other rather complacently that we would have sufficient funds stashed away to live comfortably and J. would build another spec house or two at a less frantic pace than usual before succumbing to full retirement.

The downturn in real estate was slower to strike oil-rich Wyoming than in other areas of the country, but it appears to be entrenched, particularly for the upper/middle price range homes we have been building.

I have felt that we had few options beyond gritting our teeth, tightening our belts and staying put.

When J, prompted by son-in-law, began investigating attractive rural places where we might "retire" and put our funds to best use, I said, "Right!  You're asking for a miracle--sales of land, a house, motor homes and equipment, in the dead of winter in a depressed economy."

I beleive I was wryly challenging God as well as J.  I have to state that God has a sense of humor!  J. sold two motor homes in less than 10 days.  Tractors, equipment, and small trailers which have been lined up for months with "For Sale" signs have attracted buyers, and last week we endured 4 house viewings in 24 hours. [If God or anyone else thought that amusing, I, as chief house-cleaner-in residence did not!]

The upshot is that the two couples who each came back for a second viewing wanted the house and we have signed a contract with the first ones who offered.

So now we begin to skitter down the usually bumpy road of a sale closing.  If everything goes smoothly [it usually doesn't!] we could be homeless in 30 days--if there are delays we might still be in the  house 60 or even 90 days from now.

At what point does one pack all but two plates, two bowls and two mugs? The books--where will I find enough boxes for the books?  How will I ever sort all the STUFF which was plonked in the storage shed nearly four years ago?  At what point are we sure enough of our available funds to make an offer on property in the desired "new" location 1500 miles away?

Rhetorical questions all, and no doubt God is biding His time with an anwer we haven't guessed.

I think I would be wise to start packing. If there are delays the cats will enjoy climbing over and into boxes and helping me to haul half-forgotten belongings from the depths of closets. Daughter's suggestion is that we relegate most of our worldly goods to the dump. I don't think so!

Our family gatherings often turn to remembrances of what are fondly called "typical Whitehurst journeys"--replete with details of blown tires on over-loaded borrowed trailers, transmissions which gave out on the great plains, hysterical memories of the cafe in Nebraska where the waitress mixed up our orders and kept appearing with forgotten side dishes. Of such are the family chronicles written.

I count the vehicles which have to be driven across the country, all the bits and pieces that must go with us.  I picture the cats, stowed in the motor home with mournful furry faces pressed to the windows.  Shall we tie the horse to the bumper?  Who will be rounded up to be part of this ludicrous convoy?

I daresay we will survive this upheaval one more time.  Where ever and when ever we go, I can think of reaching the destination and hauling my battered armchair from the depths of a van, unearthing the mugs, the tea and the kettle, flopping in triumphant exhaustion while the cats prowl the corners of a different house and the old horse explores a strange and greener pasture.