It's the Final Countdown

Yep. It is. And I’m trying not to panic.

We delayed by a week so we could get more done ourselves instead of farming it out.

You never know how much stuff you REALLY have until you pack it up to move.

Honestly, I have no idea why I have so many sets of china and oh my word- stemware? Really? Why? We never use it! Ok, well maybe we used it once or twice, but I was totally sick of wrapping and packing it.

Packing has been easy compared to rehoming the chickens. I’ll tell ya, we are missing them.

Well, ok, we’re not missing the noise the boys made, but we miss their crazy personalities. Numerous times, we’ve gone out to check for eggs, only to be reminded they aren’t there. Numerous times, we’ve gone outside, while preventing the dogs from escaping to the backyard, only to realize they can go out unsupervised in the afternoon. Boo.

I found a fantastic rancher lady who works with all the local 4H kids who was willing to take them. ALL of them, including the boys. She didn’t really want them, but thought she could find some kids who would want to show the boys, especially because the two are rare breeds and all are bantams. Once she learned we were moving, she decided she’d take them.

Do you know how rare that is? To find a single person willing to add my 23 chickens to their own flock? She already has 32. And yet adding mine was not a big deal, as she is completely set up for them. Wow!

I had to make 2 trips to get them all out there. She has 10 acres and a huge, huge chicken pen, although her chickens all free range late morning, just like mine do. {The point here is that in theory, most chickens lay their eggs in the morning, so many people keep them in for a few hours and then let them out. I never had a problem- all of ours would go back into the nesting boxes to lay.} She wanted them a few days before we left in the event she had questions or whatever.

My biggest worry was that they would be eaten and not loved like we do. Obviously, no one is going to love them like we do, but she has a chair she takes out in the evening, and hunkers down to watch them. And ALL of her other animals were clean and well fed; their stalls/areas literally darn near spotless. She is in the habit of rescuing animals (like cows and goats) and is the one people call when they have concerns over their pregnant animals. I know this, because she took a panicked call while we were there.

And, I only had to tell her my name once before she began using it. {which is rare, for such an unusual name- most people can’t remember it and are therefore hesitant to use it}.

She is also a kid magnet. I could tell this, because I heard a whistle and then the yelling over the acreage started. The neighbor girls wanted to come over and hang out with her. Her response was, “Did you ask your mama?” and then,”Watch out for snakes!” Within minutes, those two little girls were holding hands with my two younger girls, and they were still there when I got back with all three of my girls.

Anyhow. I have a completely clean and quiet conscience and know they will have long, happy lives with Miss M on her ranchette. Thank you Lord!

I’ve got something like 7 dozen eggs in my fridge that we have been unwilling to eat, because once they are gone, well, they’re gone.

Conversation in the car last week:

 J (10): “Does this mean once we’re out of eggs, we’ll have to go to the store and buy them?”

Me: “Yes.”

J (8) and J (10): “Ewwww! Gross!” {gagging noises}

J (8): “I’m never eating eggs again! They don’t even taste like real eggs! And they’re white!”

J (10), adding an addendum to the sentiment: “I’m never eating eggs again either. At least until our new chickens are laying. Then we’ll eat their eggs. You’re not going to make us, are you?”

And lo, there was wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Even a literal minute ago, J (8) says, “I don’t wanna buy eggs.”

We miss our chuckins.

No, really, we do. So much so that every one of the girls (myself included) have dreamt about chickens. The guys don’t care. They would just as soon eat them.   Although, Hunny is still in the habit of going to let them out every morning, and it’s still kind of instinctive for him to head that direction.

So. The final countdown is upon us. 4 days is what we have left, and company is coming on Monday. Monday is our last packing and mopping-things-up day. We’re going to do a big stranger chicken fry for road food. And then we head out early Tuesday morning.

In the meantime, I’ve been washing, packing, painting, and grouting. And trying not to panic. It’s amazing what all you need to do when you’re never going back and can’t just grab stuff you forgot.

The kids each have a tub (did I tell you this already?) that is their winter “closet,” in the event that it takes a bit to sell the house. With the market the way it’s been, there’s just no telling. Since we won’t be back, we need to be prepared.

Closet space in RVs is not hugely abundant. So, the totes will get packed outside and tarped until they’re needed. In the meantime, the kids have packed their duffel bags as they usually do when we hit the road. I have 2 big totes for my winter clothes and running gear. And then I have to take all of our legal information, so we have it on hand if we need it (particularly for the next mortgage).

We have a three-page checklist that is still mostly still un-crossed-off. And it’s not because we’re not working. It appears the way I made the list is not quite the same as how we’re tackling the house, so right at the end, the entire thing will get crossed off. 

And now that I’ve spent entirely too much time writing, it’s time to get motivated. I think I’m up for an omelet this morning. I have about a half dozen silkie eggs that need to be eaten………..

Because life is a soundtrack, I leave you with The Final Countdown by Europe……….