Getting ready for our yard sale tomorrow. It’s quite amazing the amount of stuff one can amass in the period of a year, steadily cramming it into the spare room like a crazed nesting hampster. It is also quite amazing that almost all of it fit into and on the Vanagon to be transported to the location of said yard sale. Packing it all out the door was exceedingly refreshing. Much of what is left will stay here for my little sister to take over while we are in NYC.
In effect we will be starting out from scratch. Aside from our clothing, kitchenware and a few small items like the rocking chair that Spence fixed up and the rocking horse for the girls (and a bazillion toys and books and the toddler mattress). Well, wait–I take that back. We will be starting out from scratch when it comes to large and comfortable items of furniture–like a bed, couch or dresser. But other than that we will be carting a ton of crap with us. Ah, reality.
In other news, Easter was fun. I was a bit spaced out for the latter part of the day (moving stress), but the morning service at Trinity LC-MS church of Sacramento was really nice. We came early for the breakfast and got to chat with our church family. Which of course makes us sad and happy at the same time. Happy we have such an awesome family in Christ; sad to be leaving them in a little more than a week. The hymns were all the sort that make you want to cheer and shout, with the organ blasting for the last stanza and everybody trying to sing way too high because they feel like it. You know, that kind of “He is risen! Damn it feels good to be a gangsta!” kind of a service. Ok, maybe it should be more like “Damn it feels good to be saved,” but hey, you know what I mean, right? Then we hung out with my family and Spencer’s parents for the rest of the day, which made me sad because I am already missing them; that may sound weird but if you ever move away from a bunch of people you are very attached to you will understand. They’re crazy, but their my fam!
The BC has been rather annoying of late. Lacking attention and training time as the crunch to get things packed and whatnot happens, she has taken to chewing up small toys when we are not looking, pulling on the leash like a pro, and generally being under foot. And she is still piddling whenever somebody bends over her to give her a pet. Like even just slightly bends over her. Is it OK to tell someone you’ve never met before, “Please don’t bend over my dog. In fact don’t pet her at all. I know she’s jumping all over your leg and whining and soft and fluffy, but don’t do it. Just. Don’t.” ? ? Will everyone think I’m a jerk? Am I a jerk? Do I care if I’m a jerk? Um, no. The dog has piddled on my toes one too many times. Don’t pet my frikkin’ dog!
I was about to upload pics of the Easter festivities, and the camera unceremoniously died. Oh well. Next time.
Look for pics sometime tomorrow evening!