In my mind I'm going to Carolina...

     Most of my friends already know this, but in case you didn't hear the news...Jonathan and I are moving to Aiken, SC. In fact, we're moving next Friday. I can say that all day long, but it still doesn't seem real to me. Why, you ask? Well, I keep looking around our house (which is half packed, thanks to my hard working husband) and all I see is "stuff". "Stuff" that has to be packed, my hairbrush, nail clippers, the pretty blue bottle on the kitchen windowsill, the patio furniture, a candle, and the list is endless. Will it all fit in the van? I just don't know. What do we do if it won't all fit? I don't know. I've become almost mute on the subject of our move. I have so much to do and plenty of time on my hands to get it done, but I'm almost paralyzed. I've asked everyone and their brother about how they think I should transport the cats since we have a four door car and two dogs and four cats won't all fit. Even I'm sick of hearing myself talk about it. So, I'm done talking about it. Suffice to say, that somehow we'll all end up in SC sometime before Christmas, ensuring that the holidays will pass in a bedraggled blur for us this year. I'm fine with that, though. Really. I just want to be down there in one piece with the dogs, cats, horses and Jonathan. And have this agonizing pre-move anxiety be a thing of the past.

  The above picture is the living room in our new house. It's an oldie, circa 1907 with four fireplaces, built in cabinets, nice wood floors and high ceilings. Those are the positive points. The negatives add up to a lot of time and money in renovation costs, but we'll do all slowly, one piece at a time. See that odd blue/green color in the background?  That would be the kitchen. The entire room (cabinets, too!) is painted that wretched, puke inducing color. The guest room is the same hue, also. It makes you feel like you're in a crack house. Must've been a sale going on when the old owner went to buy paint.  The land that goes with the house adds up to a little over 7 acres and it will eventually be our home base for JEM Stables. At the moment it resembles a small wildlife preserve, but it's flat and with strategic clearing we'll have a nice spot for a stable, ring and paddocks.

  There is one small wrench being thrown into the works for our actual move. The weather. It isn't cooperating. At all. Yesterday we had an ice storm, which rendered the entire farm a skating rink. The driveway literally could've been skated on, no joke.  Today's treat is a snow storm, on top of all the ice. It's been snowing since I got up and it's still going at almost 1:30 p.m.  Now, the reason why this winter weather is a bit of a challenge is that our house is up on a little hill from the driveway. Carrying furniture isn't fun on flat, safe, dry ground, so try adding some ice and snow on a downhill slope and see how you feel about that.  Yeah, I thought so. This is going to f*&%ing suck. There is just no other way to put it. I've been joking all along about how it's going to snow before we leave, ha ha ha, won't that be a drag, etc., in hopes that by saying that it wouldn't happen.    Why haven't I learned not to fool with Mother Nature?? Did I learn nothing from the commercial in the 70's that said that very line? Apparently not. We are screwed. 


  When you tell people that you're moving you generally get two types of reactions. The first is that of pity. If you've ever moved, wether it was 10 miles, or 1000 you know that it's a gigantic pain in the ass. On many, many levels. So the pity people put a hand on your shoulder and give you the pursed lip look that says,  "I'm so glad it's you and not me. Hang in there." The second reaction is the overly positive, "You're going to get through this and be so happy in your new place!!", complete with pom pom's and a split. If we were mega wealthy and could afford to hire movers this would all be so much easier. But alas, we're saving our money by doing this on our own. And I swear this is the last time I'm moving.


  So y'all (hello, practicing!) probably won't hear from me for a bit. For the next two weeks I'll be walking in circles and wringing my hands, while muttering about all the loose ends I have to tie up. When I return to the surface of life  I'll try my hardest not to be one of those people who moves to a warm climate and proceeds to continually gloat about how nice the weather is while everyone back home is buried in six feet of snow. I might have to do it once, or twice, but then I'll hold myself back. Promise. Happy Holidays and I'll be back with a new blog name in January. I'm thinking "Adventures in Aiken", but I'm open to suggestions from the six people who will actually read this.