6/18/09
We are in the throes of moving. Ugh. It has only been six months since we got here, and we knew this would be a temporary stop, but still... (this bears repeating since it's what I say every time we move) it's like getting poked in the eye with a sharp stick. Thanks, Mr. Cullimore, for helping me put the wretchedness into words.
Madelyn instructed us to smile while she took this picture. It doesn't look forced, does it?
There must be something in the air around here, because in this month alone, I'll have had my sister, two of my brother-in-laws, Mark's parents, plus us moving to new places. It's like a Yoder migration.
I confess, some of my chagrin is stemming from the fact that the previous owner of our new house was a single guy who not only had never been introduced to a toilet brush or a vacuum, but kept a SAINT BERNARD INSIDE THE HOUSE.
(random picture--just to illustrate how gigantic these dogs are)The neighbors tell us that "Mozart" was twice my size, looked like a fur rug, and was rather sickly so he was an inside dog. The carpets are still a mess even after we had them steam cleaned, which also brought out this lovely wet dog smell which has been lingering ever since last Saturday. We've collected a hairball the size of a couple of medium schnauzers. We've had to wash all the walls, and there's a corner in the master bedroom that will never come clean because that's where he slept. My pregnant sensibilities are protesting all this. I am not really a dog person either, so I find it just plain
gross.
Progress reports to come...