Traveling Grouch

This isn’t hell. I’ve read of hell and it’s much worse. But this sure is not pleasant. We arranged our move through a broker. They seemed kind and concerned with our welfare. That should have been my tip-off. The first estimate was around five grand. That required a non refundable deposit. A week before the move, during a phone interview with Darling, they raised the amount to over eleven grand. Another deposit. The brokers arranged for “local” movers. They came from Dallas, four hours away. These movers did a walk through and now estimate almost fifteen grand. The broker, when contacted, was rude and unconcerned. Should we cancel now, of course, we lose the five grand we deposited. They loaded the truck that the broker KNEW would not be sufficient and drove away yesterday, planning to return today for the remainder. I hope their truck is big enough this time. I hope they don’t change their estimate again, now that they have half our things. In Dallas. The name of

Darling is a native Texan. I have a record for my mother's sister, Anita, from US Gen Web Archives showing her birth in Bexar County (San Antonio). STONE  ANITA  JOYCE 1-15-1936  f  BEXAR  ELVA GERTRUDE ELSTON  EARL BERNARD STONE Sadly, familial ties do not make one a Texan. You must be born in this great state to make that claim. Darling has traveled a bit, yet she has never lived elsewhere. She's being brave. And though I feel I am finally returning home (Michigan is home to many of my maternal relatives), I also will miss Texas. For Texas has been the only adult home I've known. I'll miss many of the people. I'll even miss the attitude of the typical Texan. I'll miss Tex-Mex food. I'll miss Buc-ee's . I can admit that every time we moved as children, from state to state, I cried a bit. One most notable time was when we left Rhode Island in the middle of my school year, leaving behind friendships I nurtured for three years (a record for

We moved a lot as children. As a career Navy man, we moved, on average, every two years of my growing up life, until I entered 11th grade and we finally settled down in Rockford, Michigan. Of course, that meant that a few years later I embarked on my own adventures. I have lived in a relatively small area of the country for the last forty years, but we're moving to Michigan now. As an adult, I have never had to deal with a move of this magnitude.  Moving to Houston in 1980 was easy. I packed everything I owned in a bag and jumped on a bus. Two divorces, three marriages and forty years of accumulation later, Darling and I are packing to move to Cedar Springs. We're two weeks away from being in our new location. We're excited. We're nervous. It's all a little scary. Will the moving company hijack everything we own and hold it for ransom? Those horror stories are all over the internet. I hope they don't do that; our moving broker took a lot of mone

When we first moved into our current house, Darling and I planted a number of citrus trees. One grapefruit tree died and we replaced it. Nothing there yet. Another struggled for years. THIS year, the year we leave, it produced a healthy harvest. Great timing, little guy. Our orange tree provided some fruit for the last couple years and has more this year. We had a wonderful little tangerine tree that yielded delicious fruit two years ago. Our lawn guys killed it by girdling the trunk with their weed eaters. Thanks guys. We replaced it and the new tree has some tangerines this year. We have another grapefruit tree that is mostly leaves and a Loquat tree that gives nice fruit every spring. I'm not fond of loquats, but Darling likes them. I'm going to miss those trees.

Yeah, preparing to move is awful. It's the sorting that gets to you, but after a few weeks of sorting and boxing... ...you just move to boxing.  My eldest son't only comment: "Goodness Gracious" Pack anything not nailed down. Will the truck be big enough?