Monday, October 3, 2016

The Movers {and shakers!}

Hello, y'all.
Happy  Fall!

: )

First of all, thank you to those who reached out after my last blog post. 

Several of you who have made much bigger moves than I have {internationally, that is} and those who have also conceived and delivered babies across the miles, as I like to put it, sent both texts messages- and even called.
It was totally unexpected, and a true blessing.

There is a true kinship we find with other sisters-in-Christ when we show up in life and share.
Sharing isn't always comfortable, but my greatest hope is that my children will read this blog as adults and know that they, too, can do hard things with love.
And bucket loads of support.

My favorite blogs to read, to be quite honest, are the ones laced with beautiful photographs, adventure, smiling children, and the truth stirring in that blogger's heart.

Thank you for letting me be true to our story in great love.
Right after going under contract on our acreage, David, Hollin and I made a week long trip back to Colorado to meet the movers. David's company held nothing back in making it the best and smoothest transition yet!

 They provided a company realtor, paid our realtor fees and closing costs, provided packers who tackled the entire house from the dishes to the Christmas decor, to my rubber stamp collection. They boxed, labeled, and loaded. They relocated and stored.  In fact, all of our things to date, three months later, are still in their storage facility.  And while living out of our suitcases three months and counting isn't ideal, we are so appreciative of their assistance. The negotiations of the relocation package are really what sealed the deal for us. 
Amazing, amazing company!

We spent one day eating at a Colorado Springs institution: The Skirted Heifer!
This is a must try for those of you who travel through the downtown.

We walked the downtown and stopped in a quaint bookshop for a few quick buys.

And we drove through Garden of the Gods one last time, just as the grey skies opened up and dropped bucket fulls all over the red rock formations.

I told David that I felt like Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music at that very moment.
He grinned and answered before I speak that the hills truly are alive on mornings like that, with the sound of music.

I had one last hoorah with the Kindie's Girls.
That is, the kindergarten girlfriends I made at Harbor's half day charter school.
These ladies are the real deal.
Wise and true, through and through.

Hollin and I spent chilly mornings walking the dirt paths by our house alone while David handled the logistic aspects of the truck.

Slowly, but ever surely, the house that had sold in only six days, stacked itself to the brim with fresh,crisp cardboard. The sound of the tape guns shrieking in unison sent Hollin running for David's knees.

We had donuts for lunch and pizza for breakfast.
It was glorious.

And on the last unplanned day, David spoke to me in my love language by suggesting a drive into Denver to shop Ikea.

And as if things couldn't get any better, he continued to drive deeper and deeper into the foothills, passing through isolated mining towns and charming tourist traps, selling just the sort  of fares that tickle my fancy.

Cutest Target ever, I'd like to wager.

Just as the golden hour of sunlight began to dissolve, he stopped in Silverthorne and again at Lake Dillon.

This moment is seared in time.
I can smell those pines even now.
Sometimes in life, you have those moments that you know are special and you do everything in your power to lock them away.
That afternoon, in the late day, with the chilly mountain air blowing in from the peaks, the waves of Lake Dillon sloshing away at the parking lot, was just that kind of moment for me.

We finished the night off at dinner in a basement pub.
It was greasy and dark and loud.
It was perfect.

And we loaded up in the dark and drove the entire three hours back home to a boxed up house.
My face grinned the entire drive.
It was a great end.

The next morning, we watched the final push for the moving van, as the last haul was loaded.

We missed the boys a lot that week.

We slept our last night in our Colorado house on a full sized air mattress.

We said "see you real soons."

And loaded our trusty rusty to the brim.
Everything in that van is all we have in Arkansas.
I am inspired and amazed, that three months in, we can live on so little.

I took an obligatory "mountains in the rear view mirror" picture and set course for Arkansas.

David snacked on his favorites while I drank my beloved Coke Zero and ate chocolate bars.
: )

We stopped only once somewhere outside of Salina, Kansas to let Hollin see the corn fields.
She was born in Colorado Springs, but I know she is a Southerner at her core.
: )

As the miles rambled on, the landscape changed.
Gone were the desert like conditions of Southern Colorado.
Rolling farmland, dotted with red barns and the occasional silo, filled my camera screen. 

On our very first morning home, after hugging our little boys and retelling all the tales of the big moving truck, we loaded up to explore our acreage for the first time as a family of five.

We schemed and dreamed and held hands.
It was the quintessential start of a new beginning.

Summer in Arkansas, with its storms and humidity, laid its claim. 

And we let the good times roll.
: )

Childhood is basically one long summer.

And before it is Thanksgiving, I promise to get caught up on ours!
: )
How are you, friends?
Are you handling the hard times with great love?
I sure do love all of you!
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  1. So descriptive...I can use all my senses to travel your journey with you. Your children and grandchildren will treasure this forever. What parents you had to instill such a love of your family.

  2. I've never commented but have read for a long time. I so appreciate your openness and honesty and the way you use your words to document AND encourage. And the pics of cute kids don't hurt! ;)