Little Helpers

The boys were really a big help as I unpacked my clothing boxes last night:

...really handy little helpers.....

.

Guess Who's Coming To Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner?

I've been sitting on this story for a week now, but here's the low down: Gunnar moved into his kennel and dog house at the new property for all of twenty minutes and decided to relocate. It was Sunday night, the day after we moved (last weekend), and the first time we would sleep at the new house. We tucked the goats into the barn and the white Husky into his run; however, we would intermittently look out the kitchen window towards the barn and see a large furry white thing jumping up and down. Bill and I both got a little nervous about our big dog. He came to us as a "digger" and a "runner," meaning, he goes where he wants to go. Frankly, I'm amazed we've been able to keep him this long! Let me give you a little background here:

That night Mr. H and I were absolutely exhausted after the fun filled day with the Amish and another long day of travel and moving Sunday afternoon. Basically, we unpacked our second load of items, and turned around to return to Bluebird Hollow for all animals. This time Farmer Ron took Bill in his goat-hauling truck to take Beatrice, Peaches and Chewy--and Gunnar; I took the car in order to transport the Lollipop Guild.

Picture the dingy white Husky in the middle of a dingy white farm truck between my father--who doesn't advocate for dog domestication--and Mr. H. Farmer Ron actually asked the question: "Does he go in the front of the truck?" No dad, your precious granddog goes in the back with the goats in freezing temperatures! Ugh. Sheesh. After loading our three goats, Farmer Ron, Mr. H and Gunnar the white Husky went to a little dairy goat farm to pick up some more kid goats. I strapped four little ones (dogs not goats or kids) into the car and I told them to hold on tight.

Let's fast forward again to the bouncing white Husky in the new kennel. Mr. H said he was going to go out and check on G-man. It was almost 10pm at night, we could barely move, and were also a tad frozen, as temperatures are now usually between 6 and 32 degrees Fahrenheit. Mr. H didn't even get out to the barn, as Gunnar was standing at the gate to the house: it's the gate that connects to the new Chihuahua yard. (Fancy way of describing where the Littles pee).

Luckily, Gunnar just wanted to see his family and NOT run off into a cold night where none of us (except Farmer Ron and he certainly would not have helped this late at night) knew any of the terrain. I was unpacking boxes in the kitchen when Mr. H came up the stairs with a large dog behind him and stated that the "pack was all together." What? How? Where? Oh boy...

We are adjusting to having all of our dogs in the house. Gunnar is a perfect house dog--except for trying to ingest an Advil today. Even the Littles are doing pretty well at tolerating him. And, at night, Gunnar lays on the floor on Mr. H's side of the bed and stays put all night long. However, when he dreams he barks quiet little noises which wake me up, which makes me nudge Mr. H, which makes him nudge Gunnar.

Our oldest (and smallest) and youngest (and largest)

 See, small dogs don't fall asleep like this, with toys in their mouths. At first we couldn't believe Gunnar was asleep like this. Then, the "mommy" kicked in and I thought: what if he's choking on it, or what if he really did ingest another Advil that he'd found on the floor? Geez!

Then he sighed really big and continued to sleep with Talon's red toy in his mouth...at the moment, he is watching the Packer game with Mr. H, waiting for our delivery pizza to get here. Ruff. Very ruff life.

Moving In

Slowly making progress...

Kitchen boxes to be unpacked...

Kitchen boxes conquered. Now the whole family is watching TV

and counting deer walking across the yard. (P.S. our entire house in

Tucson is as big as half of this portion of the upper level!).

Gnomes...

Gnomes...

and more gnomes...

Home Office

Um....isn't that the barn dog I see in Mr. H's office? Just curious....

My temporary office: better view up here in the apartment so

I've commandeered it and am calling it the "corporate suite."

Moving Crew

Unfortunately, due to the crazy nature of the last five days, I couldn’t sit down every night and record what went on each day. I have forgotten some things and this is really not near as funny or traumatic as it really was: you’ll have to use your imaginations. I’ll try to keep things in chronological order though, so you’ll want to continue bouncing back between December 1^st and eternity, for the whole story

After a very trying four months of wrestling with mortgage companies, lenders and agents of all sorts, I believe we finally closed on our new farmette! Well, actually, I know we did because I now have to drive a very different route to work on the days I don’t telecommute.

The place is great! I can’t wait to share pictures and other stories, but between trying to clean, unpack, work full time and not lose fingers in the frigid weather, it’s been hard to hold a camera and snap photos. The weather snuck up on me this year—not quite as bad as last year (please refer to the November 2010 posts for that) and having to learn a new routine with the animals, etc., is keeping us very busy. But, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Some of you know that Mr. H was adamant about not hiring movers. For months I pleaded with him but he refused. I finally had him worn down the Saturday morning before we thought we would indeed move. We talked with an awesome company called A-1 Movers in Sauk City. (I highly recommend them: they’re customer service was impeccable). An hour later, Mr. H got cold feet and chest pain. Then, my chest pain returned. Oh well, give and take. So, December 3^rd rolls around…

The original plan of having Farmer Ron call in a few small favors and bring a crew of Amish guys to help us move was what we ended up with…and I’m so very glad we did. My dad had to work that morning so my stepmom, Dawn, graciously drove to Amish country (20 minutes from where we live now), retrieved our moving crew, and drove them two hours south to Bluebird Hollow to help us load the 26-foot truck. Mr. H and I had only met one of the guys before, so we had a house full of Amish strangers and I was praying to God, Jesus and Mary, that my Tourette’s syndrome wouldn’t kick up! I did not want to be responsible for an entire colony of pure people knowing words they were never intended to hear. But I digress…(Oh and one more thing: due to the beliefs in Amish society, I was unable to take any photos in order to capture the moment...ahem, Seneca...).

In all truthfulness my dad and Mr. H were right: hiring my dad’s friends were the way to go. I should not have wasted four months worrying about having to put forth so much labor. Why am I so lazy? Surely I am not my father’s daughter. The moving crew was no more than a group of lanky youngsters, and our friend who is a few years younger than me and not a very big guy either. I was very skeptical when they walked in; granted, they were all almost six feet tall—with the exception of our friend—but they weren’t big ox-like farm hands such as I expected. These other three boys ranged in age from 17 to probably 25. One a schoolteacher, one a logger, and a canvas shop craftsman. Looks are completely deceiving. I looked away to point to something for Dawn, and when I looked back at the baby grand piano, it was already up on its side on a skid board. The four Amish guys made everything look simple; they had clearly done this before; and, never did one of them complain, whine or groan. That’s okay: I did a lot of it for them.

When we finally took a break for lunch (they refused to eat until they “did some work first,” I surprised everyone with a big party platter from Subway. This may be a bit stereotypical, but from what I’ve seen and listening to my dad talk, the Amish really enjoy sandwiches from Subway.

We all stood around the kitchen island and crammed in 2 or 3 sandwiches a piece, an entire jar of Dawn’s homemade pickles, and, we encountered a new, exotic ice cream flavor. I don’t remember how we even got on the subject of ice cream…ah yes, I do! Mr. H was so generously sharing some of the many boxes of Girl Scout cookies (thanks Sue—hear the sarcasm?), as our dessert and I had said the Thin Mints were my favorite. The schoolteacher perked up and asked me if I liked mint chip ice cream? I told him, “Sure, but my favorite flavor of all time is Blue Moon.” This led to a discussion of just exactly what blue moon tasted like and then I remembered that I had just picked up a pint of it at my favorite fast food restaurant: Culver’s. Yum.

Having packed, well, everything I handed everyone a plastic spoon and we all passed around this little container of bright blue, frozen sugariness. The guys were quite impressed. It brought a lot of smiles and we laughed—which we had been doing all day anyway.

It was then time to lock and load—so to speak. We locked up the house, told the dogs we’d be back, and for the three “Englishers” (it’s what Amish people call us) who possessed drivers’ licenses, we each took a couple of movers with us. I think they strategically placed everyone where they felt comfortable, so our friend and the youngest boy came with me in Bill’s pickup, the schoolteacher with my stepmom, and the logger with Bill. (Incidentally, I am purposely not using anyone’s name out of respect. I doubt that I would have permission to use their names).

I hope the 17-year old isn’t traumatized for life after riding up to our new place with me. Our friend was in the front seat and we were chatting away about any number of things such as our previous life in Arizona, idiot drivers, goats, monster trucks, you know, the usual stuff.

All in all, our Amish moving crew was with us for almost 12 hours and didn’t get paid near what they are worth, but I hope they realize how grateful Mr. H and I are, because without them we would never have been able to move into our house so quickly. We consider them all good friends of our now, and we even have a couple of them going to Arizona with us in the spring, hopefully. The logger and his new bride would like to accompany Mr. H and I when we go to retrieve some of the items we left down in Tucson. Can you imagine the four of us in Bill’s truck?

More stories to come. That’s all I have energy for right now. Moving really takes it out of you.

Stay tuned

Thank you for your patience. Mr. H and I have lots of adventures to tell you from the past four days of moving, but I am too exhausted to type...much. So here are a few teasers: introducing an Amish community to Blue Moon flavored ice cream; an unexpected housemate; and Farmer Ron, Gunnar and Mr. H off on an adventure!

Whew. Goodnight.

Homer Sweet Home

After four of the most excruciating months trying to close on our property, we managed to do it. But, it was touch and go even DURING the closing. The whole scenario is quite a story in itself, and, since I promised half of my audience that this blog would be "family friendly," my heathen crowd will have to wait for the uncut version when my bestselling book comes out. (I know, I've been waiting for years to finish that thing too. Don't hold you're breath, but it will happen!).

So, after signing hundreds of pages of documents today, we do have a key to the house. I won't even add that we are supposed to have two keys but the seller misplaced one; this she did after re-hiding the lockbox (with house keys inside) because--as she puts it--"it looked like someone was chopping wood on the property." So you hide the lockbox with the house keys in it? Exactly where does she think wood comes from, the guest bedroom? Explanation for the firewood piles: Farmer Ron, who seems rather excited that we will be living close by, dropped off three full cord of wood. That's about three big pickup truck beds full! Huge thanks Dad!

I'm tired and I have got to go to sleep because the next three days are going to be rough...again, the stories I've already got to tell you! The Amish moving crew--courtesy of Farmer Ron, of course--shows up at 9am here at Bluebird Hollow to load us up. But tomorrow holds a fun day of cleaning the new house. What better way to get to know it?

Below is a photo I've posted before and definitely does not do this 5100 square foot house justice (it's a long house so this picture is hiding the majority of the length of the house). The barn is also huge, and we have a very long driveway so we are set back quite a ways from the county road the property is located on. Best feature of the property: we are only five miles from Farmer Ron, Dawn and Grandma Esther! I sense a lot of steak grilling and Scrabble in the future!

Picture taken down by a very small apple tree loaded with

delicious fruit

Two of the gorgeous Amish-built horse stalls