Got a call from my mom this afternoon. She had taken the car in to have the transmission looked at during lunch and Dorian had brought her back to the school. The car place called saying there were a few other things wrong, there always is, and she decided to leave it there for them to work on instead of taking it in later when it was an emergency.
This left me as the rescuer. With all the cars gone the only thing left to drive on the property was my dad's work truck. Thank goodness it was an automatic. Not so thank goodness that it was parked in the yard that was now soggy with rain water. I got a sippy-cup and graham crackers ready for our mission and took her out to the truck in her jammies. It was only going to be a quick drive to the school and back. The school is 25 minutes away, but, like I said, quick.
We were all ready to go, country back-road style. Alaska strapped in the back seat like a big girl since the car-seat was in car that Handsome Husband had taken to work. With her jammies on. No need to waste clean 'town clothes' for a day at home, ya know. (Since we've moved to Oregon we're still working on her inventory of 'home clothes').
The truck started first try, which was a little bit of a miracle since the battery is said to be close to closing its life, and we were on our way.
Except that we weren't. To avoid hitting the woodpile (remember, we're doing this country back-road style, so of course there's going to be a woodpile) I turned the truck a little too sharply and one back tire got stuck in the mud hole that was left from tearing a stump out. After spinning out a few times I hopped out to see what was going on. Only I couldn't get the door open. The handle from the inside is completely useless and I had to scoot my way across the bench seat to the other side.
I did this 3x before finding a couple of pieces of wood to shove under the tire, which at this point was pretty deep in the ground. Looking around some more I found some shingle pieces and a shovel and began to shovel away the mud and poke the shingles as far under the tire as I could. When this didn't work either I did the whole 'forward, reverse, forward, reverse' motion and made a little headway. By this time I was using the shovel to break up the ground and then my hands to pull away the dirt. My city nails weren't above digging a truck out.
All-in-all I called my mom to tell her we weren't going to be able to come get her. She suggested putting the truck in 4-wheel drive and getting out. Of course. Except that I didn't know how to put the truck in 4-wheel drive. Called my dad and didn't get an answer. Set out on my adventure again and decided to just do what I could. And it popped right out. Although I like to think that my digging and shingles made that possible.
Alaska sat in her seat-belt the whole time and didn't even try to squirm out. I stopped at every stop sign, but otherwise followed all other rules of driving country back-road style. Usually, when driving backroads, it is couture to slow for a stop sign but basically use it as a yield. We made it to the school with nothing less than smiles coming from the backseat and Carrie Underwood's Black Cadillac. Doesn't get much more country than that, unless of course they were playing Dixie Chicks, Cause Earl Had to Die.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Monday, March 11, 2013
Waiting, Not so Patiently
Things are going slowly for us right now. No houses on the market that meet our price criteria and Steven's picky location. I mean, it makes sense that he would like to be in a good neighborhood so that when resale time comes it will go quickly, but I keep telling him that our price range is just not in those good neighborhoods right now. We're just a little family looking for a little place to stay a few years and not be throwing our money into the abyss. Oh, and I guess also so that I don't feel such guilt about making a place a home by painting a few walls and putting in some acceptable carpet and counter tops. Big wastes of money for a renter but I do believe it's those little things that make a difference in the atmosphere of the place. Shag and orange counter tops have been out for 50 years now, people! Of course it still works, they built things like that back then. But you wouldn't still be driving your huge-o volkswagon around, why keep the countertops and carpet? Let's respect our homes.
It's been kind of discouraging. I like to make a decision, have things happen, and then be done with it. Not being able to find a house has me doubting everything I first thought and it's easy to back out and think, no, let's just rent, or let's move in with the parents for a good two years, or let's set up an RV in the backyard for a couple of years and camp, stock piling all our money. But it's not really what we want. We've worked too long and too hard at being independent. We've been in Utah, living completely on our own, using the young women in the ward as our babysitters and buying our own meager groceries to rely on anyone at this point.
My character is a white in the rainbow of character colors and this basically means that I will do anything for peace. Anything. And it also means that I am quick at making a decision, but never fully committed to that decision. I may be the one person who can say, "I don't care" and honestly mean it. This house buying thing is definitely proving that theory correct. I made my decision, but now that it's not moving along as fast as I wanted it to, I am beginning to doubt and think up other options.
I am also itching to unpack. We've lost my good running shoes in the process of hiding things in boxes and I am longing for them. I've got an old pair of workout shoes at my mom's house that I've been using, but it would feel really nice to just have my favorites. But it's really not worth the hassle to move the mountain of boxes, searching for one. I'll just have to suck it up and be patient.
I have gotten to know the few houses that meet our criteria very well and recognize them as old friends when I see them listed. In fact, I know them well enough that sometimes when we are driving around I recognize them and smile as I pass: I know what the kitchen looks like, where that back door goes and how many bedrooms there are. It's interesting, but not fast enough.
It's been kind of discouraging. I like to make a decision, have things happen, and then be done with it. Not being able to find a house has me doubting everything I first thought and it's easy to back out and think, no, let's just rent, or let's move in with the parents for a good two years, or let's set up an RV in the backyard for a couple of years and camp, stock piling all our money. But it's not really what we want. We've worked too long and too hard at being independent. We've been in Utah, living completely on our own, using the young women in the ward as our babysitters and buying our own meager groceries to rely on anyone at this point.
My character is a white in the rainbow of character colors and this basically means that I will do anything for peace. Anything. And it also means that I am quick at making a decision, but never fully committed to that decision. I may be the one person who can say, "I don't care" and honestly mean it. This house buying thing is definitely proving that theory correct. I made my decision, but now that it's not moving along as fast as I wanted it to, I am beginning to doubt and think up other options.
I am also itching to unpack. We've lost my good running shoes in the process of hiding things in boxes and I am longing for them. I've got an old pair of workout shoes at my mom's house that I've been using, but it would feel really nice to just have my favorites. But it's really not worth the hassle to move the mountain of boxes, searching for one. I'll just have to suck it up and be patient.
I have gotten to know the few houses that meet our criteria very well and recognize them as old friends when I see them listed. In fact, I know them well enough that sometimes when we are driving around I recognize them and smile as I pass: I know what the kitchen looks like, where that back door goes and how many bedrooms there are. It's interesting, but not fast enough.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
10 Things I Love About Myself
First, to explain, I am currently doing a program called Feel Great in Eight. It's a little complicated to explain right here when I am trying to get my daily 5 points quick and easy before they are due.
10 Things I LOvE About mE
1. Smile
2. Easy ability to make small talk with strangers
3. Love for Grandma Ladies
4. Enjoyment of making new friends
5. Challenge for an adventure
6. Quick decision making
7. Patience
8. Vision for making things better
9. Crafty fingers
10. Luscious hair
10 Things I LOvE About mE
1. Smile
2. Easy ability to make small talk with strangers
3. Love for Grandma Ladies
4. Enjoyment of making new friends
5. Challenge for an adventure
6. Quick decision making
7. Patience
8. Vision for making things better
9. Crafty fingers
10. Luscious hair
A New Chapter
It's happened. We're back in Oregon. For a few years anyway. It's been an emotional time. And I tell myself, "that is ok". Just because something is hard doesn't mean that it is bad.
Our dream, ever since we were dating, was to be in Oregon. Among the qualities that I loved, and still love, about Handsome Husband was that he was an Oregon Boy. I have noticed that Oregonians, especially, are loyal to their state. It's the beauty, the pride, the ocean, the color green, the three R's (reduce, reuse, recycle), and the trees. My roommates will always remember me as the girl who could never throw away a plastic bag. I recycled everything within my power.
We weren't thrilled to be in Utah for my student teaching and were on Plan A for the first excuse to head back 'home'. It never came. Steven found a job that he loved, I found a job that I loved, we both loved the little community of Farmington. We always said, "Utah isn't so bad, so long as you're in Farmington." Three years and a baby later we were settled in what we thought would be life for the next two years. What would be five years in Utah.
And then the unexpected news came. The store that Steve was working for needed to downsize their employee salary and Steve, being the lowest on the totem pole even after two years, was asked to consider transferring to another store. The distance was not the issue, as Farmington is located between Centerville (where Steve was currently working) and Kaysville (where he would transfer to). The issue came in that Steven's time that he's put in for promotion would start over. You've got to be at the same store for two years before you promote. That would put us two more years, at least, in Utah. Luckily Steve has connections and called a guy in Oregon and was offered a transfer position to his home town. Which puts us just minutes from each family. And in Oregon. We honestly had a hard time deciding if that is what we wanted to do. After so many big dreams of returning to Oregon and closer to family, with it so close in front of us it was hard to wrap our minds about it. We loved Farmington. Our ward. Our callings. Our friends. But we took the leap and went for it. It finally came down to the idea that we were going to be spending three years somewhere, may as well lay off the southwest tickets and be closer to family. And of course fasting and prayer and many pros and cons lists.
So we're here. And a lot has happened. And a lot hasn't happened. Steven won't start until the first Monday of March. We have a lot of vacation time, which we haven't had in a long time. We moved from Utah using a 16ft Budget truck, nearly 1/3 the price of U-Haul, and the car. The move was stressful. And by the time we got to Oregon our colds that had been held off by the stress came on full-force. Mine had hit hard in Utah, but Steven's held on hard and left him miserable or in bed for the first two weeks of being in Oregon. It slowed us down. A lot.
Our first plan was to stay with family, switching each week off and on, until we found a place. Which was only supposed to take three weeks. And then getting settled in a place the fourth week. We are in the fourth week, going on five. I am burnt out on moving back and forth. We're no longer looking for a place to rent. We're looking for our starter home. We've been approved for a $105,000 loan. $693 a month. And there are houses enough, if Steven weren't so picky. I could really not care less, I am ready to have our own place again. It's not our dream home that we're looking for, so it really doesn't matter too much. I am a bigger believer in making a place a home rather than finding a home already made.
Oh, and have I mentioned anywhere that we got a cat? Yeah, our kitty kitty. Alaska loves him and he is so awesome with her it makes my heart swell. That in itself is a story.
And that's life. That's where we are right now. Total and complete limbo.
Our dream, ever since we were dating, was to be in Oregon. Among the qualities that I loved, and still love, about Handsome Husband was that he was an Oregon Boy. I have noticed that Oregonians, especially, are loyal to their state. It's the beauty, the pride, the ocean, the color green, the three R's (reduce, reuse, recycle), and the trees. My roommates will always remember me as the girl who could never throw away a plastic bag. I recycled everything within my power.
We weren't thrilled to be in Utah for my student teaching and were on Plan A for the first excuse to head back 'home'. It never came. Steven found a job that he loved, I found a job that I loved, we both loved the little community of Farmington. We always said, "Utah isn't so bad, so long as you're in Farmington." Three years and a baby later we were settled in what we thought would be life for the next two years. What would be five years in Utah.
And then the unexpected news came. The store that Steve was working for needed to downsize their employee salary and Steve, being the lowest on the totem pole even after two years, was asked to consider transferring to another store. The distance was not the issue, as Farmington is located between Centerville (where Steve was currently working) and Kaysville (where he would transfer to). The issue came in that Steven's time that he's put in for promotion would start over. You've got to be at the same store for two years before you promote. That would put us two more years, at least, in Utah. Luckily Steve has connections and called a guy in Oregon and was offered a transfer position to his home town. Which puts us just minutes from each family. And in Oregon. We honestly had a hard time deciding if that is what we wanted to do. After so many big dreams of returning to Oregon and closer to family, with it so close in front of us it was hard to wrap our minds about it. We loved Farmington. Our ward. Our callings. Our friends. But we took the leap and went for it. It finally came down to the idea that we were going to be spending three years somewhere, may as well lay off the southwest tickets and be closer to family. And of course fasting and prayer and many pros and cons lists.
So we're here. And a lot has happened. And a lot hasn't happened. Steven won't start until the first Monday of March. We have a lot of vacation time, which we haven't had in a long time. We moved from Utah using a 16ft Budget truck, nearly 1/3 the price of U-Haul, and the car. The move was stressful. And by the time we got to Oregon our colds that had been held off by the stress came on full-force. Mine had hit hard in Utah, but Steven's held on hard and left him miserable or in bed for the first two weeks of being in Oregon. It slowed us down. A lot.
Our first plan was to stay with family, switching each week off and on, until we found a place. Which was only supposed to take three weeks. And then getting settled in a place the fourth week. We are in the fourth week, going on five. I am burnt out on moving back and forth. We're no longer looking for a place to rent. We're looking for our starter home. We've been approved for a $105,000 loan. $693 a month. And there are houses enough, if Steven weren't so picky. I could really not care less, I am ready to have our own place again. It's not our dream home that we're looking for, so it really doesn't matter too much. I am a bigger believer in making a place a home rather than finding a home already made.
Oh, and have I mentioned anywhere that we got a cat? Yeah, our kitty kitty. Alaska loves him and he is so awesome with her it makes my heart swell. That in itself is a story.
And that's life. That's where we are right now. Total and complete limbo.
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