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| Is that a union fist in the air already? |
Given the due date of our next grandbaby, we were sort of putting off the move until mid-October so we could be here to greet her into the world. Well, guess what? She couldn't wait to get here, and now we welcome Eleanor Rose Malone a month early. She is healthy and strong and just chilling out at the NICU in Des Moines for a few weeks before she heads home.
So, we have made arrangements to take possession of the house in Rincon, Puerto Rico on October 15th. So, and get ready for this... we will rent a car in Des Moines on the 12th, drive down to Fort Lauderdale, and board an airplane on the 15th to Aguadilla, where we will rent another car until we buy one down there.
If you're wondering why on earth we would drive from Iowa to Fort Lauderdale before boarding an airplane, it is because with our cocker spaniel (Scout) and our eight-toed Hemingway cat (Pilar), Buzz's stress level shot up to about an 11 thinking about going through security with four bags, two carry-ons, and two pet carriers, then having a layover while lugging almost as much crap around, and praying the dog doesn't poop, puke, or collapse. Fort Lauderdale, on the other hand, is a single flight, two and a half hours long, from one small airport to another small airport, where we can hurriedly get the animals outside upon landing.
For the seemingly countless souls who ask us questions about logistics and are interested in them, we have sold the vast majority of our possessions since shipping costs are outrageous. We will take most of the clothes we are keeping (good-bye bulky winter crap!) as checked luggage. The absolutely must-have with her at all times personal stuff that won't fit into the luggage, along with the art, will be mailed to ourselves at the last minute via the good old United States Postal Service. Expensive, but still better than paying shipping and import fees on a big container to send crap we didn't really, really want or need anyhow.
And, naturally, there will be a dozen or so totes left behind at some poor relative's house, full of the photos and crap so personal that it could never be parted with under any circumstances, and the only conceivable thing to do with it all, is to cram it into totes, hide it in some unseen space, and snicker at the thought of the grandkids who will end up having to sort through it all again some day, opening tote after tote in search of the family treasure, only to once again be disappointed by ceramic ashtrays in the shape of leaves made by Reagan in the third grade, and stack upons stacks of papers from grade school with stick figures surrounded by scribbles.
But we also sort of figure that if everyone lives their life to the fullest, then that is all anyone should ever hope or desire to inherit. Enjoy the totes kids, and don't look for them in the will. They will be left for you all to fight over and discover the wonders of what all was too precious to throw away, and yet not quite valuable enough to shell out for the postage. Enjoy!
