This last week Lindsay and I put everything we own into a 16-foot moving van and traded skyscrapers for apple trees.
I vastly underestimated the amount of stuff we own and Lindsay’s ability to pack that stuff into the closet. She plays closet Tetris at a post-graduate level. After trying (and failing) to eat at all our favorite places and say goodbye to our favorite people, I drove the van over the pass to Yakima.
Our arrival at my parent’s house coincided with the septic system backing up. I feel it is my duty to maintain my innocence, but also possibly my duty that caused the backup. Not being able to use an indoor bathroom has served as a nice reminder to take the puppy out for dual purpose potty breaks. It’s always best to lead by example.
Friday, we went to the county fair. I watched a pig race, chatted with a Superior Court Judge running for re-election, and took a photo with a cardboard cut out of Donald Trump. His hands were just as small as I had imagined – perfect for grabbing the last pickle out of the jar or quickly typing an important tweet at 3:20 a.m.
My parents have graciously agreed to let us crash with them while we look for a place of our own. I haven’t lived under their roof since 2004. The last few days I have asked permission before moving furniture around, silently endured Fox “News”, and avoided any and all mention of the upcoming election.
Green Lake is where Lindsay and I made a home after we got married. We will miss our friends, Mighty-O donuts, and the Green Lake church. It’s unsettling to move away without knowing exactly where we will land, but we are up for the adventure of making that place feel like home.