Our first hotel and restaurant review…

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This quaint old fashioned motel, the Sandia Peak Inn Motel run by the most charming woman on the planet was well worth the $100 (plus 13% tax) nightly rate.

Halfway to Albuquerque by 1:00 pm, we searched for a hotel on my Android smart phone during the intermittent times we had a signal. Driving across the barren lands of Texas we expected to settle down for the night around 5 pm after another 525 mile day.

Only one day from Scottsdale, our destination for the next two months until we leave the US, we were pleased that we had traveled about 1300 miles in a little over two days.  

Our original plan had been to take our time getting to Scottsdale by the 4th, the day our vacation condo is ready.  On a whim, the day before we left I called Spencer, the real estate agent, asking if we could get in a day early.  We could. 
Searching for an Albuquerque hotel was slow and laborious, continually losing the connection as we traveled across Texas and New Mexico. Anxious to ensure we had a comfortable place to stay when we were able to connect, I selected an old fashioned motel a few minutes from  Highway 40 in Albuquerque’s Old Town. 

We agreed that the price of $100 for a motel, the Sandia Peak Inn Motel seemed on the high side but the reviews online were astounding, as high as a 9.5 at Trip Advisor.  We signed up online for the $100 king room.  
Delightful Kate, manager of the Sandia  Peak Inn Motel, hugged me when we checked out, moments later running out to our car to hand us a crisp red apple along with well wishes.
No words can describe the delightful property manager Kate, other than “wow.”  She couldn’t do enough for us!  Her charming demeanor and concern for our comfort reminding me of times past.  
The adorable motel and our king room, not a disappointment in any manner, was reminiscent of the 50’s and yet updated with modern conveniences including HD TV, working wireless Internet and a newer over-sized Jacuzzi tub . Our room was spotless, spacious and comfortable. We couldn’t stop smiling over this surprising find. My painful shoulder thanked the Jacuzzi.
Starved by the time we were situated, Kate recommended a Mexican restaurant that we hesitated to consider, based on it’s 9.5 miles from the motel.  She insisted we wouldn’t be disappointed. Easy to locate using “Maps.” we found our way there in less than 15 minutes.  

Kate was right. Garduno’s of Mexico, Restaurant and Cantina was exactly what we needed; an extraordinary environment, fresh succulent Mexican fare, cold beer, and yes, we cheated…all you can eat  homemade crispy corn tortilla chips with lip puckering salsa.  

The atmosphere was astounding, a cleverly designed replica of a Mexican restaurant in a warehouse district with high ceilings and a tasteful decor.  The servers, although busy, were pleasant and knowledgeable about the menu, doing their best to accommodate their multiple tables, mostly occupied by seniors, like us.  

Us old-timers can be quite demanding at times. Tom and I made a pact to make every effort to be gracious wherever we may be, the US or abroad.  The old stereotype of the “ugly American” will not apply to us!

Determined to stay as close to our limited diets as possible, I ordered the shrimp fajitas, skipping the tortilla.  Although I don’t normally eat starchy foods, after a few handful of chips and a cold light beer, my reserve went out the window resulting in my devouring half of the re-fried beans.  It was well worth it!
My fajitas dinner minus the tortilla. Fabulous!

Tom had the tender pot roast stuffed corn tacos, although “Mr. Picky” won’t eat Mexican beans or rice.  What a waste.

After a good night’s sleep in the comfortable king bed, we decided to hit the road early this morning while it was still dark.  

An hour into the drive on Highway 40 we were rerouted to famous Route 66, when a tanker truck overturned ahead of us spewing a dark cloud of some toxic chemical requiring  Hazmat trucks, fire trucks, police cars and ambulances speeding to the scene.  Luckily, we made it safely out of the area with only a half hour delay.

Another productive day of driving behind us, we made it to Scottsdale around 2:00 PM.  We were confused about the time change, referring to our phones for accuracy.  Arizona, (most of it) does not acknowledge Daylight Savings time.

There’s a one hour time difference between New Mexico and Arizona. Plus, the clocks change tonight but, not here in Scottsdale.  In our tired condition, it was difficult to figure out the time. We’ll go with whatever our phones say in the morning.

The last time we changed clocks was the first time I wrote this blog, March 14, 2012.  If you’ve yet to read from this blog from beginning, this date is listed in the archives on the right side of this page.  
Contained in those archives since March 14th, we share with our readers the long process of getting to this point. Today, we are exactly two months from the date of January 3, 2013 when we officially leave the US.  

I deleted the Retirement Countdown Free app on my phone.  We no longer are counting the hours, the days, the weeks and the months.  Every moment will be treasured now that we are free, together at long last.

Organized layers…on to Albuquerque…

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Yesterday, it was 82 degrees in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma at 5:30 PM when we checked in to our hotel, a newer Comfort Inn & Suites.  Never having stayed in a Comfort Inn, I was tentative at the low price of $79 a night including tax. We’d decided when we began this journey that nicer hotels would be reserved for our future travels, not for getting us to Scottsdale.

Surprisingly, the room was a clean mini-suite with living room,  comfortable sofa, spacious bath, mini refrigerator, microwave, flat screen TV and free wireless although unsecured Internet.  

We left Des Moines Iowa at 9 am, stopping twice for gas with two additional stops  to stretch our legs, mine particularly cramped from sharing the passenger floor space with the cooler.  

Since starting our low carb, gluten free, sugar free way of eating 15 months ago, we no longer are hungry for lunch.  We saved at least an hour by not stopping for meals.  It was a good day, our first official fully retired day for both of us together.

Frequently we glanced at one another in a state of awe.  We did it!  We left! We said our goodbyes to loved ones with tear filled eyes. We let go of all of the entanglements one acquires in their lives, the stuff… and we left.  Sadly?  Yes. Easily? No.  But we did it.  And, we can’t stop smiling.

During the day, I received a text message from Verizon reminding me that I’ve used up most of my allowed text messages with three days left until the end of the billing period.  Ah, who cares? 

Along the way, my fingers flew across the tiny keyboard on my Android phone (soon to be replaced by two unlocked international smart phones) chatting back and forth with family and friends. See, we aren’t going to be so far away!

Tom and I chatted.  We laughed. We silently contemplated our lives.  We enjoyed the driving, not anticipating the future as much as reveling in the moment, coming to a single conclusion:  We are on a permanent vacation that may never end. 

No longer will we have angst on Wednesdays as a week’s vacation rolls into its mid point. No more will we be dreading the mail accumulating in the box (we cut our snail mail down to a few pieces a month, now going to our new mailing address in Las Vegas).  No newspaper to call to resume the delivery. No sense of dread on Sunday evening anticipating Monday morning’s tough reality. How in the world can this be?

How in the world did this happen?  The first discussion, flippantly spewed from Tom to me, resulting in us both surprisingly saying “yes” at the same time, seems as if were a lifetime ago, when in fact it was only 11 months ago.

And this morning, as we packed the organized layers of only that which we need in the hotel room, not a stitch more, we’re already in step as to who does what. 

In these few short days we’ve developed a routine, so familiar, so comfortable that, oddly in itself, begins to feel like “home.”

Today’s the day! Happy Halloween…Off we go!

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Tom went to work at 5:40 this morning for the last time after 42 years, to sign his final papers and get the traditional frosting laden train decorated cake. 

In minute he’ll walk in the door of friend Karen’s home to begin the process of packing “way too much stuff” into his SUV and head to Scottsdale, Arizona to begin the first leg of our year’s long journey.  

Most likely it will take an hour or two and we’ll be off.  One third of the stuff we’re bringing on the road trip will be ditched when we leave the US in two months. Mostly, its includes some snacks, a few remnants we couldn’t part with for now, my tea pot, my Genius chopper, sugar free peanut butter, and four bottles of Courviosier he received as gifts at his party.

Tom just walked in the door, frustrated and angry that his last day on the BNSF railroad, after 42 years of hard work, was dismissed in a few ways.  One, the usual jacket retirees receive on their last day was no where to be found and two, his departing cake had “Marty” written on it.  One would think after all these years, they could get his name right!  Marty!  Good grief! (Poor Marty. He must have “Tom” on his cake!)

Ah, let it go my love.  Your name “Tom,” was on your cake last Saturday night at your retirement party with over one hundred railroad guys and gals in attendance to celebrate YOU!  

Now, its close to 1:00 PM.  After nearly two hours, the car is loaded, the Kryptonite bike locks are entwined in the handles of the six suitcases, the over-sized black tablecloth covers it all and we’re just about ready to go.  

Surprisingly everything fits, except for the cooler which I’ll keep on the floor near my feet.  Whew!  My bad shoulder is killing me but maybe, just maybe, the manual labor will be at a minimum over the next four days as we waft our way across half of our beautiful USA.  

Goodbye, family.  Goodbye, friends.  Goodbye, Minnesota. 

Hello, New Life… the life of two traditional baby boomers, aches and pains in tow, wrinkles and gray hair escalating by the minute, hearts filled with love, hope and anticipation, embarking on the journey of our lives.  Stay tuned.

All my sorrows…

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“Yesterday, all my sorrows seemed so far away.” The words of the Beatles song echoed in my head as I drove away from our house which may prove to be the last time I’ll ever see it.

Walking into the door yesterday morning with my dear son Greg to finally witness what was left after the fourth and final day of the estate sale was heartbreaking.  

My comfy chair, the chair from which I wrote every word of this blog (except for the past 10 days), the chair where I laughed, the chair where I cried, the chair where I lived, and the chair where I sat, and on occasion suffered Life’s challenges and sorrows.  The chair.  It sat in the dumpster.

No one bought my perfect condition, mauve colored velvet, definitely outdated, Flexsteel recliner chair, surely overpriced at my insistence of $100, more appropriately priced at $24.  And now, it sits in a dumpster.

Goodwill,  the Vets, and the thrift store, all turned it down. I offered it to son Greg. Not interested. No room. I offered it to dear friend and neighbor Jamie. Not interested. No room.  

Goodbye chair. Goodbye chair. And the chair represented it all, letting go of that life, of that time, of that house.

The estate sale people’s cars were scattered about the lawn as they carried lifted and hauled the remnants of our lives outside to go into one of two trucks and then the dreaded dumpster. They worked so hard.

A number of items didn’t sell including our 1902 Baker Rhodes player piano and all the music roles that go with. Not an offer. Anyone want it?  Pay to have it removed by tomorrow afternoon ($250) and its yours. The Italian leather down filled sectional.  I had an offer that I refused for $350.  Maybe I should have taken it. 

The 10′ long hand made table crafted from wood in our yard in 1923 by a craftsman from Dayton’s, all made with wooden screws with six chairs will be picked up today to go to a consignment store.  Thanks to friend Jamie, who lovingly coordinated it all for us.  Thank you Jamie.

The money?  Not one-sixth of what we had hoped for, a mere pittance for our lives, the quality we demanded, the unique design we sought, now all lost to the whims of a terrible economy, conservative buyers in tough economic times.  We never counted on any return from the sale into our travel budget.  Good thing.

The five estate sale people worked so hard.  They cleaned, they scrubbed, they vacuumed, they washed everything in site.  It looks nice for the new people. When I returned in the afternoon to pick up the cable boxes, they were still there, almost done.  It looked great.  Thank you, Jason, Nadine, Jessica, and all. You worked so hard.

Tom quit smoking yesterday.  I took his car to have it detailed, free from smoke residue, making the drive to Scottsdale more pleasant for me beginning tomorrow, Halloween, the final day in the month’s long countdown.  Between son Greg and dear friend Chere, I had transportation during the four hour period the carwash had Tom’s car.

Chere and I spent three hours together yesterday, working out, having lunch, running errands and commiserating over the years we have known each other while wishing that Life would have allowed us more time together.  What is more important than love and friendship?  Sitting in the newly cleaned car, I cried when we said goodbye. 

Finally, back in Tom’s car, now alone, I returned the cable boxes only to discover that I was two boxes short.  I found one in Greg and daughter-in-law Camille’s SUV (which Tom drove to work yesterday).  Today I have to go back to the house one more time to look for the missing cable box.   Ouch!

Besides, I need to walk around the yard and say goodbye to our three pups buried in the yard.  How did I forget?  Bart, run over by the mailman at five, BenBenBen, died from Cushing’s Disease at 12.  And them my WorldWideWillie who passed away 18 months ago from cancer.  

I wrote a blog for Willie during the last 17 days of his life, from his perspective, a real tear jerker that helped me heal. We had over 500 followers.  How did they find it? They came from all over the world. They cried with me. We named this blog in part for Willie…worldwide…

More goodbyes today, the road tomorrow.  I’ll write along the way relieved that this sad part is behind us, finally allowing ourselves to experience the joy of the adventure that lay ahead and… “all my sorrows seemed so far away.”  Hello, world. One more day.

Thank you, family and friends!…

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We’ll be getting our new camera soon, Watch our photos greatly improve!
Tom and Jess last night at Tom’s 42 year retirement party.

No words I can possibly write can express the gratitude we feel for the warmth and love we experienced last night at Tom’s 42 year retirement party. 

With over 150 guests in attendance we both made every effort to talk to everyone. If we missed you, we apologize.  Of course, with me having lost my voice a few days ago, I was unable to hostess in my usual chatty manner. Perhaps, it was nature’s way of telling me to shut up and listen.  Which I did.

The thoughtful and generous gifts, the hilarious and heartwarming cards, the hysterical photos of Tom over the years and of course, the appearance of Alfred E. Newman in disguise made Tom feel so appreciated and loved. Thank you everyone!  Thank you so much!  We are so grateful.

Tom’s 42 years on the railroad warranted a special cake.  This fully edible cake is held together by the gifted hands of the fine baker and the stiff fondant.

My amazing co-hostess, daughter-in-law Camille, interminably hard working throughout the busy evening, made time to enjoy the festivities as well.  Thank you, my dear, for being there for us during this important event finding myself sick and slightly exhausted from the overwhelming recent preparations.

Tom’s co-workers, many known for over 40 years, many now also retired came in droves to celebrate Tom and one another for a near lifetime of great stories and memories. The wives, partners and girlfriends I’ve come to adore over the years filled the room with well wishes and great memories of our own.  We will miss you all.

Tom’s family, the ultra large pack of fun and friendly individuals came from all over, some having come a long way.  They told endless stories resulting in non-stop laughter and the usual teasing of one another.  Thank you family. We love and appreciate you all.

The cake made by Raven, baker extraordinaire at Cub Foods in Shorewood, Minnesota spent days preparing this fully edible cake.  Her passion and enthusiasm were only surpassed by her attention to detail.  We couldn’t have been more pleased with the cake. Thanks, Raven!

It appeared everyone had a great time enjoying the food and beverages and most of all, the conversation and warmth from one unbelievable group of people.

In three more days, we’ll pack Tom’s car and head down the road on the first leg of our world wide adventure…two months in Scottsdale doing paperwork, finalizing medical appointments, obtaining visas and second passports and purchasing and setting up all of our digital equipment.  They’ll be a few side trips to Nevada to visit family including a rental house in Henderson over Christmas.

Although this portion of our trip will be less exciting than that which transpires at the end of the two month period when we officially leave the US, we will keep you informed along the way.  

We’ll share details of the necessary processes of the paperwork and logistics portion of the tasks required to leave the US for years to come, the security measures we employ for our health, wellbeing and safety, the people we meet along the way and the trepidation and joy we experience in the process.  

Thank you for reading and for joining us two traditional, stay-at-home “creatures of habit” as we venture out into this unknown territory leaving everything and everyone we love behind us, in an effort to fulfill what may prove to be the experience of a lifetime.

Happy retirement party day, Tom…Sick or not, I’m in!…

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Last night at 8:45 Tom took me to urgent care.  My voice gone, gut wrenching coughs overtaking me, it was time to address this three week old flu.  

An hour later with prescriptions for Z-Pack and codeine cough medicine in hand, we left the all night pharmacy to return to Karen’s home and some much needed sleep. 

It was a fitful night, tossing, turning, dreaming and coughing.  Trying not to take the cough medicine before bed, like a fool, at 4 am I had no choice with the coughing continually awakening us.  The pharmacist had stressed, “Do not take more than one teaspoon.  Its a new formulation and could be dangerous.”  

“Good grief,” I thought, “Why give me such a dangerous drug?” With only a peculiar looking plastic measuring device that came with the red syrup I struggled to measure out one teaspoon.  My contacts were out.  I couldn’t see. With the intent of erring on the safe side, I poured what may have been a mere 1/2 teaspoon.  

In a matter of minutes I conked out to awaken at 8:15 this morning, head a little less foggy, voice somewhat “hear-able” and the coughing cut in half.  Who says antibiotics don’t work for a virus?  Although still sick, I now can manage to hostess Tom’s retirement party with a renewed expectation that I can make it through the busy day and night.

We invited less than 100 people but with the help of a co-worker and friend of Tom’s, Jer-Bear who enthusiastically invited many more, we could have a substantial turnout. After forty two years on the railroad, Tom with his outgoing and friendly demeanor could certainly warrant a reasonable turnout.  Thanks Jer-Bear.  

The last day of our estate sale is going on as we speak.  They’ve already called me twice asking for our “lowest price” on a few of the bigger items. Hopefully, they’ve been sold.  

Worried as to how much will sell, we are discussing plans for the “leftovers.” We must decide by Monday morning when the estate sale people return to donate, to dumpster and to clean the entire house (for an extra fee, of course).  

This is an angst ridden process: selling everything one owns and then disposing of many of those items that one considered to be treasures.  It not only hurts the pocket but, also the soul.  

We all want to believe that we have impeccable taste and yet, we all want to be unique.  That, my friends, is an oxymoron.  Uniqueness dictates that only certain people will find that which we have as “purchase worthy.”  Others will thumb their noses with their distaste.  So it goes in Life, yin and yang.

Tom’s SUV loaded with party supplies, soon I’ll leave to pick up Camille, my daughter-in-law who has been my loyal and official helper through thick and thin during this entire moving process.  She and I will pick up the food for the party, the cake (I’ll post a photo of the amazing cake next time I write), drive the long haul to the VFW party hall in Coon Rapids, Minnesota to set everything up for arriving guests at 5 PM. 

Tom will drive himself in Camille’s SUV to the party and then I will drive us both home in Tom’s SUV at the end of the evening, designated driver that I am with a relatively inebriated and outrageously humorous passenger in tow.  

As we move into the next phase toward Tom’s retirement date and, our departure date of October 31, 2012, I’m filled with sorrow, anticipation and elation all at once.  

The goodbyes beginning tonight, continuing over the next four days, will surely be the most difficult part of this many month’s long process of planning to travel the world over the next five to ten years, as vagabonds, gypsies, and adventurers. 

Not too bad for two typical Minnesota home bodies, having lived a joyful life of routine and familiarity, who’s world will soon be upside down. 

Solutions as we wind down..

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Although now sick with the flu, I’ve had no time to rest in an effort to speed my recovery. Forcing myself to continue running around, making phone calls and completing tasks in preparation for leaving Minnesota in five days has been trying.  

Tom’s retirement party is tomorrow, Saturday at 5 PM. My voice sounds like Minnie Mouse and I’m weak, coughing and foggy headed.  Perhaps, this is Nature’s way of warning me to slow down.  Not a good time to teach me a lesson, Mother Nature! 

The mailing service, MailLink requires notarization of legal documents with literally no daytime hours for Tom to go to a notary.  After speaking with Eric at MailLink he reassured me that there was nothing to worry about.

He suggested we go ahead, sign up, pay the $156 annual fee for the largest mailbox via PayPal to get the documents notarized when we get situated in Scottsdale.  In the interim, they won’t be able (due to state laws) to forward our mail until they receive the forms.
Over the past several months I’ve reduced the amount of mail that we receive by contacting the various companies requesting they only send online notifications and statements.  Most were able to comply.

In the near future, it appears that snail mail will become a thing of the past as evidenced by the financial difficulties of the USPS. Today’s fast paced technological advances continue to have an enormous effect on the use of paper and mail in general. Perhaps, in time as we travel, we’ll no longer need the services of any form of a mailing service, receiving all communications by email

A portion of Tom’s income from his work will no longer be paid by direct deposit as his paycheck had been over the past many years. This in itself presents a dilemma. How do we get the paper check “mailed” to us into the bank? He requested direct deposit for these payments to no avail.

We considered asking one of our adult children to receive the payments by mail immediately depositing the checks. Realizing how annoying and inconvenient it would be for them with their full and busy lives to be watching for the checks and subsequently depositing them, we decided it was too much of an imposition.  We didn’t want that inconvenience ourselves!  Why would we impose this on our children?

In speaking with MailLink, they suggested we do what their other clients do in a similar situations:
  1. Use the provided MailLink  address as our mailing address
  2. Provide them with deposit slips and mailing envelopes made out to to our bank’s department that handles incoming snail mail deposits.  
  3. MailLink opens the envelope, scans a copy of the check to our email, signs the back of the check, “deposit only” and then mail in one of the envelopes provided.  No deposit slip is required per this service offered by our bank.
  4. Within 2-3 days the deposit it made into our bank at which point they email us a receipt for the deposit.
  5. Check online banking to verify the receipt of the deposit.
Cumbersome?  Yes?  Alternative?  Hire an accountant or certified money manager and pay $100’s in fees each year?  No, thank you.

Next task? Oh, yes, they continue.  Insuring our belongings.  With the documents signed on the sale of the house, we are ending our homeowners insurance on the day we leave, October 31st.  At that point insurance ends on our belongings as well.  Today, I will wrap up the details of our new “personal property” insurance.

The estate sale is in progress.  Yesterday, the first day, was a bit challenging.  It was snowing, the roads were slippery and the wind was whipping at the time the sale was to begin. 

At 7:00 am yesterday morning, sick and miserable, I showed up the house to meet with the estate sale people to finalize pricing and details.  The wind and sleet on the peninsula felt like a hurricane as I nearly was blown away finding my way from the driveway to the front door in the dark.  Somehow, the detector for the exterior lights were turned off. 

By 9:00 am, as the sale began, I was visiting with our friend and neighbor two doors down, peeking out the window to witness the caravan of cars driving down the narrow road to examine and hopefully buy “our stuff.” It was hard to watch.  I left an hour later for a delightful stress-reducing lunch with the neighbors at our favorite local restaurant, as opposed to the breakfast we had planned earlier.  Its so hard to say goodbye.  The worst is yet to come.

Once again cocooned in this comfy leather love seat as I write today, my voice is gone, my throat less sore and the cough is slightly better as I prepare for the tasks of yet another day in limbo:
  1. Finalize personal property insurance policy
  2. Go to bank to get extra deposit slips and arrange for the mailing service to send them the pension checks
  3. Pack a box of overflow to be shipped to Scottsdale and held by UPS until we arrive on November 4th.
  4. Check on final details for Tom’s party tomorrow.
  5. Grocery shop and prepare dinner as I have done each evening since moving here last Sunday. After all, a good house guest must earn their keep.

Yep. Five more days.

Out of my element..

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Its not easy for us to be house guests.  Our hostess and her family couldn’t be more accommodating, easy going and welcoming.  

By the time Tom returns from work, reads the paper, showers and watches the news, he joins us in time for dinner. We’re both a little tired, yet to fully recover from the packing, the cleaning, the lifting and the hauling.  We try to go to bed by 9 or 9:30.

I’ve been making dinner for six the past two nights, shopping creatively each day to accommodate the diet and likes of each of us in the group of five at Karen’s home.  Mostly, they eat as we do; gluten free, chemical free, starch free and sugar free making this task easier than it might be for some.  

We are enjoying dinners together, all of us sitting at their big square table, a table similar to ours in our now former home, about to be sold along with everything else we own, at our estate sale starting tomorrow. 

Tomorrow morning, I’m scheduled to meet the estate sales people at our house at 7 am to review the final pricing on the bigger items.  Its not easy.  That which we found to be unique, custom made by devoted craftsmen and befitting our lodge-like lifestyle will have considerably less value to a potential buyer. 
When done, I’ll leave, as requested by the estate sale people.  Its too hard to see, they say…too hard to watch one’s lifetime belongings wander down the long narrow road to be placed into the bed of a truck or plopped into the trunk or back seat of a stranger’s car.  Oh.
When I leave our home tomorrow morning, not to return until the sale ends, my dear friends/neighbors and I plan to have breakfast at our favorite local restaurant, The Hazellewood Grill for a meal and our final goodbyes.  

There has been four of us girls as confidants, friends, helpers, supporters 
(now  down to three after Sue left for Florida last Saturday) all of these years. The goodbyes begin.  I knew this was coming.  I avoided dealing with it.

Yesterday, I watched our little three year granddaughter practicing for her upcoming dance recital next Tuesday, the day before we leave. I will be there. Tears welled up in my eyes watching her, knowing the time is near.  Those little faces, those precious smiles, the delicate tiny hand to hold.  Ah.

Awaking with a sore throat today, I best stay in and take it easy.  Today, I must arrange for “renter’s” insurance for our personal belongings.  We are cancelling our homeowner’s policy on Halloween.  

We must set up insurance coverage for our luggage, clothing, digital equipment, all those items I posted here to enhance our world travel experience, all of those items for safety and security, all of those items for comfort and ease.  

When the agent from State Farm in Henderson, Nevada suggested $15,000 in coverage in an email yesterday, I cringed.  Our digital equipment alone will fall into that range. I will make an itemized list sending it to the agent today to ensure we are properly covered.  Its worth paying a little more.
We must set up our new Nevada address and mailing service before the end of the week. I should have done this sooner.  When I started the process of signing up yesterday, I realized that both of our signatures must be notarized. Oh, no. We must do this soon.  Tom doesn’t get done with work in time to go to the bank. I’ve waited too long to do this. I’ll find a solution today.

A week from today, two hours from now, we’ll be packing Tom’s car to begin our journey.  The retirement party will be over, the sale will be over, the tasks will be completed and the goodbyes will be shared.  Ouch.

“Leaving” is bigger than “moving”…

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We are now situated at Karen’s home for the next nine days.  Everything for our stay here is unpacked and put away.  We’re welcomed by Karen and her two sons with open arms. We haven’t been overnight guest in a friend’s home in almost 20 years.  Its an odd feeling.  We’d better get used to being in a home “other than our own” based on the upcoming travels.

This move was more work than any move I can ever recall.  Under normal circumstances, when moving, one opens a drawer, examines its contents and in a somewhat systematic manner proceeds to fill a box with the drawer’s desired contents and the rest is thrown away. Simple.

Later, the box is moved to the new location, either near or afar, opened to reveal its contents while finding an appropriate spot in the new home. Simple. That’s called “moving.”

Nope, not us!  We aren’t “moving”. We’re leaving.  Big difference.  Here’s how ‘leaving” goes:

  1. Open a drawer, examine its contents
  2. Remove all the contents from the drawer
  3. Consider the resale value of each item
  4. Remove all items of sentimental value
  5. Place items of sentimental value in one of four separate boxes (one for each of our children’s families)
  6. Determine if anything in the drawer is appropriate to travel the world with consideration for usefulness, weight and least of all, it’s desirability.
  7. With all items out of the drawer, wash the interior of the drawer.
  8. Place the items to be kept in containers for future packing
  9. Return all remaining items to drawer in a neat and concise manner
  10. Close the drawer
  11. Scream!  Go to the next drawer, closet, cabinet, storage bin, plastic bag, refrigerator, freezer, chest, trunk and repeat the same process, over and over again.
That’s leaving!
In the past few months, finalized in the past few days, we have prepared for the following considerations:
  1. Clothes, medications and supplements, special foods, technology, cords and chargers, toiletries, cosmetics and my special pillow to last us for the nine days here.
  2. All of the above plus comfortable clothes, jackets, cooler, beverages and snacks for the four day road trip which begins in nine days plus…the roof top carrier for the car, yet to be installed.
  3. All of the non-perishable food and supplies purchased at Costco on Saturday for Tom’s upcoming party on Saturday for anywhere from 100-200 guests. I’ll be picking up the food and cake for the party mid-day on Saturday.
  4. Documents, tax receipts, medical records and forms, insurance forms and additional paperwork to attend to in Arizona.
  5. For the two month stay in Scottsdale, Arizona and Henderson, Nevada; everything listed here plus food to purchase while there.
  6. For our upcoming world travels; six suitcases, two carry on bags, a duffel bag of med and supplements, two wheeling carts, two laptop bags, and a purse and a over-sized murse (man purse which Tom hates!).
Done?  Yes.  Much to our surprise.  Exhausted? Yes, but will be better in a few days.
So, I sit here writing this blog in a comfy soft leather love seat, my hot tea in my mug, overlooking the calming lake at Karen’s home, her big fluffy dog Wrigley, sitting at my feet, the chill of fall in the air and for now…I am home.

Burrowing in…

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Tom is still sleeping.  The sun has yet to come up.  I sit in my comfy chair in its original spot surrounded by all of our belongings neatly stacked on tables, arranged on shelves, or placed in new locations, all priced to sell. 

This will be the last time I sit in this chair writing this blog. When I write again on Monday it will be from Karen’s home in a spot I will choose as close to this familiarity as possible. Ah, creatures of habit, we are!  

Perhaps, it is time for me to welcome change. When our precious little Australian Terrier Willie was alive (he went to Doggie Heaven in April 2011), on occasion I took him along to visit friends.  Invariably, he’d find a spot in the corner of their sofa and burrow himself in, wildly throwing himself around in circles as he would at home, burrowing in until he managed the perfect spot. Will that be me?  Burrowing in?

Is it better to let go of the familiar when one makes a radical life change, such as we?  In my logical brain, I perceive that letting go of the familiar will bring personal growth and discovery.  In my emotional heart, I reach for the cocoons where I’ve found solace and comfort.

Yesterday, my dear daughter-in-law Camille showed up once again to help. Alone in the early morning, the estate sale people done with their pricing, I had tentatively faced the cleaning and washing of our three refrigerators, one giant freezer and emptying all the kitchen cabinets filled with food and spices.

My shoulder, still painful and cracking with a SLAP injury and bicep tendon tear made these tasks painful and daunting. Camille did it all as I stood beside her coaching while we laughed, reminisced and held back the tears. I will miss her.

During the day, friends and neighbors stopped in to see our normally impeccable home, as an impossible array of stuff for sale; once warm and inviting, now cold and austere.  Lots of hugs.  The time is near to say goodbye.

We’re still planning on moving out tomorrow before the Vikings Game at noon. Its hard to cook. The stove and all the counter tops are covered and overloaded with kitchen items for sale with nary a place to make my cup of tea, let alone a full meal.  

Tom suggested we cook the remaining homemade low carb, gluten free frozen pizza, one of very few items left in the freezer. It will serve us well tonight and Sunday night as we continue to gather our belongings to take to Karen’s.

At 4:30, I seasoned a boneless pork roast with my few remaining spices, placing it into the oven while still frozen.  Humm…I thought, where’s the meat thermometer?  I always use a meat thermometer.  Oh well, I’ll wing it, I guess.  

At 6:00 PM, Camille gone after a hard day’s work (thank you, my darling who is so there for me, for us), Tom and I walked down the road to say goodbye to our friend Sue who’s leaving at 5:00 am this morning to go back to “their” home in Florida for the winter, for the first time without Chip, her beloved husband and our friend, who sadly passed away at the end of May.  We’ll miss her too.  

We hugged goodbye.  I held her tight, feeling the lump in my throat, the tears welling in my eyes but she, so wounded from sorrow and tears these past months, refused to succumb, gently pushing me back, insisting “We’ll see each other soon.  This is not goodbye.” Tom and I walked silently down the road home, holding hands.

We walked in the door to the smell of the pork roast cooking in the oven, smelling good, so familiar.  I opened a can of Tom’s favorite green beans (oddly, he prefers canned to fresh), made a salad with little room to prepare and sliced the roast. It was done.  No thermometer.  Yes, maybe I can improvise.

We turned on the plasma TV in the kitchen to watch a show we’ve always recorded on the DVR to enjoy during dinner, Shark Tank.  We laughed, we talked. we cleaned our plates  The food tasted good.  Placing our dirty dishes in the dishwasher, I reminded myself to put price tags on them when they’re clean and place them with the other piles of Fiestaware, service for 24, in four different colors.  Goodbye, Fiestaware.  You’ve served us well.

Tom, now awake, showered and dressed, loaded up the car with a portion of our luggage plus food, wine and booze to leave with Karen.  Tomorrow, we’ll bring over the rest.

Soon we’ll join son Greg, Camille and those three little angels, 5, 4, and 3 for breakfast at IHOP in Eden Prairie after which we’ll head to Costco to order food and supplies for next Saturday’s party for Tom. Then, off to Karen’s to unload the car and back here for what we’ve decided will be our final night in our house.

Tonight, after another busy day of work we’ll fall into our ultra comfy Grand King Sleep Number bed, burrowing in, perhaps without “wildly throwing ourselves around in circles” for the very last time.