April 24, 2008

On a Jet Plane

We have purchased the tickets. At exactly 12:18 p.m., on June 14 I will be waving goodbye to my life in California from the window of a bombadier. Ah, crikey, it's seven-ish weeks away, and I'm already crying.

Oh, but there is much to do before then. Figuring out what to ship and how, for one thing. We're going to have a mungo moving sale, and offer everything at a deep discount (possibly free). Then we're going to stuff the rest in one of those pod thingys that are so popular these days.
Plus, the big kidlets are both graduating (from fifth and eighth) the day before we set off, so we've been trying to figure out how to have a grad party for them in our empty house. Yesterday, I came up with the brilliant idea of taking them to Great America in May in lieu of a grad party-- and then I had to explain what lieu meant, but they're all for it.
But before any of that, I'm taking the kids to Oregon to visit Papa Orman, aka Norm-- my maternal grandpa, although he doesn't like to admit he has a 36-year-old granddaughter. If we're lucky these days, we see him about once a year, and after we move I'm not sure when we'll get to see him again. So this is going to be our first major goodbye, not quite the same as saying goodbye to the dental hygenist, nice as she is.
This photo was taken in 2005, the last time we visited Oregon.

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