oops

So you mean the 'hiatus' post I wrote never went live?

Ooops... sorry guys :)

WELL.  Let's recap the past few weeks:

My husband finished his seminary education back in August.  A couple of weeks later, he was offered a job in Denver, Colorado.

I spent much of September and most of October trying not to hyperventilate, on account of the moving across country at precisely the exact same time that my responsibilities at work were kicked into high gear.  All the work events and whatnot went really well and I did not, as anticipated, stroke out at any point.

On November 1, Brian was ordained as a Minister of Word and Sacrament in the Presbyterian Church (USA).  I fondly remember this day as the day he proved a few less-than-stellar personalities in the seminary realm WRONG, COMPLETELY WRONG YOU JOKERS WHO SAID HE WOULDN'T MAKE IT, AN ACCUSATION BASED PRIMARILY ON THE FACT THAT HE DIDN'T KISS YOUR BEHIND AND CRADLE IT IN FLUFFY DOWN PILLOWS AND HANDSPUN SILK IMPORTED FROM ...WHEREVER SILK IS MADE.  jerks.  [end rant]

Packers came on Thursday, Nov. 5, and loaded all our crap personal belongings into boxes.  Movers came on Friday the 6th, which was coincidentally my last day of work (I KNOW.  Take a freaking break, Ashley.).  And while the preceding couple of weeks had been very bitter-sweet (or bitter-exciting as I liked to say) Friday was mostly comprised of Bitter.  I worked until closing time, got one last meal in what had become my beloved hometown with Brian and Kyle (aka my best-guy-friend), and set to work cleaning the house.  Which had become very dirty as I had not really done any cleaning in it in the previous 2 or 3 months.  On account of all the other stuff going on, and a mild bout of some kind of gastrointestinal awfulness.

Related aside/shout out: my super-awesome boss friend and her teenage daughter came to help out.  They were life-savers.  Brian also roused some troops to come help clear out the millions of boxes from the attic - something that would have taken us hours.  (Boxes, you ask?  Well...knowing we would probably be moving in the year after Brian finished school, we saved every box that came across our threshold in the 2 years we'd been married.  We had many boxes.  Many.  Boxes.  And then that blessed institution, the church that hired Brian, sprang for packers and movers, so we didn't need any of them.)

Our greatest fear was confirmed that day, as well.  Our air mattress is no longer with us.  I have been racking my brain trying to figure out where it could have gone, and the last thing I can remember is taking it to Delaware for my brother's wedding.  I'm hoping it's floating around my mom's house somewhere, although she assures me it is not.  So we spent the night at my boss friend's house. And it was exactly what I needed.  Too busy and too many people for me to get caught up in emotional hoo-hah and bawl everywhere, but relaxed and hospitable enough that I could sit back and be emotional anyway.  Without the blubbering.

Saturday morning, we got into our overstuffed car and left.  It didn't take Eli too long to borrow himself a tunnel nearly to the back of the car.  That dog has an awful lot of funny packed in his under-8-lbs frame.

I think we were about half an hour on the road when we realized that we'd left everything in the fridge and freezer.  And even if we wanted to turn around, it would do us no good as we were effectively locked out of the house.  I am STILL kicking myself about the 3/4 bottle of wine from our friend Melissa that I planned on enjoying in my first week(s) as a housewife.  It's from Duplin County!!  Extreme sadness.  I hope my landlord enjoys it.

So that's it.  We made it.  We're here, all our crap personal belongings are here, and everyone seems to be settling into his/her/its place.

Actually, if I'm completely honest, in the battle between Ashley and The Boxes, I think The Boxes are winning.  Updates as warranted.  Unless I get stuck in a corner.  (Again.)