We were assured by the owners and the previous tenants that their final walk-through would be at 10am Sunday. The tenants (who were very nice, and quite gracious when we unexpectedly showed up at their house to check it out last week) told us it would be fine for us to stop by this afternoon to show the house to my mom before she flew home, even though we wouldn’t officially take possession till Monday. The keys would be in the mailbox for us, they said.

The keys weren’t in the mailbox. We could see through the open windows that the house wasn’t empty yet. No one was home. It was a bummer.

Even though we couldn’t get in the house, we walked around back so my mom and Annalie could at least see the yard and the deck. You can see about half the backyard in the photo above.

We drove back by the house that evening after we took my mom to the airport, just to see if anyone was there. The house was still locked up, with all the same boxes and furniture inside, no keys in the mailbox, and no one around. It made us a little nervous. How could they have had their walk-through if the house wasn’t empty and clean? It’s not like we could call anyone and complain though. It wasn’t our house yet.

I guess maybe the tenants underestimated how much time they’d need to pack up and move all their stuff. Maybe they’ll be working till 3am to get everything out of the house. That sounds like something I might do, honestly. We just have to hope they are done and that the keys are there tomorrow, because the movers are coming bright and early to start unloading our stuff.

This is when the whole moving-across-the-country thing gets easier, once the movers are here and have packed up most of our belongings. We’ve already organized and sorted and done laundry and figured out what we need to take with us on our road trip and set that all aside. Once the movers take everything else with them, it’s not our responsibility any more. Now we just have to drive, find pet-friendly hotels with pools to stay at, visit some family and friends along the way, and find a place to live once we get there, preferably before Troy has to start his new job. Piece of cake. (Ha.)

The house is full of boxes, stacks and stacks of them. The movers left our beds up so we could stay here tonight. Tomorrow we’ll do a last load of laundry to wash the sheets and towels we’re using, and then those will all get packed and loaded onto the truck with everything else.

Our dear friends the Jays are moving to Japan next week. What with one thing and another, we hadn’t seen them in months. We barely managed to see them at all before we all left California. From the time Troy got home till now, we were pretty much busy every day they were free and vice-versa. But they managed to carve out a couple of hours between meetings and appointments and entertaining out-of-town visitors to come have lunch with us today, and we’re so very glad they did. Seeing them is always wonderful, even when months or years have gone by in between times, which makes perfect sense because they’re framily.

Framily is D’s fabulous word for friends who are such great friends that they’re like family. Except framily is better, because there’s no baggage, no drama or getting mad if you can’t make it to Thanksgiving dinner. There’s just, “Too bad, hope you can make it next time!” Everyone should have framily like the Jays.

We had a great crew of guys packing us out today. They were all efficient, professional, friendly, and courteous. We always bribe our movers to handle our stuff with care show our appreciation to our movers by supplying them with drinks and food throughout the day. Usually we have coffee, bottled water, and soda on hand as well as offering to buy them pizza or some other takeout for lunch. This morning I was going to make a Starbucks run, and went around the house asking each of the guys if I could bring them back a coffee. One guy asked for black coffee, another said decaf with cream would be great. And the biggest, burliest, tattooed-est guy asked if I could get him a grande iced caramel macchiato. That totally made my day.

Tomorrow they’ll load up the truck. Our car will get picked up so it can get shipped across the country. We’ll clean and take care of some odds and ends, maybe go see a movie if we have time, eat dinner at one of our favorite local restaurants. Saturday the carpet will be cleaned, we’ll meet with our landlords, and then we’ll head east. Good thing we’re planning to visit family in Texas for a couple of days along the way; that’ll give the snow more time to melt before we get to D.C.

We got a postcard in the mail today from Troy, from Dubai. And by “we” I mean, clearly, our cats. Oh yes. Wanna see what he wrote on it?

Katy & Lily,
This place is a kitten’s dream! Three words for you:
World’s Largest Catbox
And this time of year, it is purfect!
xoxo,
Papa

If you’ve been following my Flickr photoset 180+ Photos for Troy, and you know that today was Day 179, you might be wondering if Troy is coming home tomorrow. But then you might notice that I added that plus sign to the name of the set.

Nope, Troy isn’t coming home tomorrow. I’m being vague about the actual date because of a little thing called national security. You’d be amazed (or maybe you wouldn’t, I don’t know) by the things Troy isn’t allowed to tell me, and the things I’m not supposed to publish here on this blog. You might notice I’ve never mentioned the name of Troy’s ship, for example. I don’t tell you where he’s been till after he’s been there. And I won’t mention the day he’s coming home till he’s here, probably. That’s just the way things are in a post-9/11 world. But don’t feel too bad for us; Troy will be home very soon. The rest of his shipmates won’t be home for a few more months, so we’re actually getting him back early. I’m counting that as a blessing and not getting upset about having to add a plus sign to the name of my photoset.

And very quickly after Troy gets home, we’re up and moving across the country again. We’ll have a few days to relax first. We hope to see most of our friends once more, we plan to take Annalie to Disneyland, we’ll eat at our favorite restaurants. The packers and movers will descend on our house like locusts on a field, quickly and efficiently wrapping and packing and boxing and taping, and taking most of our earthly possessions with them on a giant truck. We’ll follow a few days later: Troy, me, Annalie, my mom, both cats and the portable litterbox, driving across the country in our so-very-worth-it minivan, stopping once or twice to see family and friends along the way.

When we get there we’ll make ourselves comfortable in a hotel or base lodging before we start looking in the local classifieds and online for houses to rent and following up on the houses Troy’s already been researching from the ship. We’ll look at so many houses and neighborhoods in the span of a few days that they will all blur together. It’s all rather crazy but it’s also part of the routine of moving. I’ve been doing this every couple of years since I married Troy, nine days shy of my 21st birthday, and I kind of love it and look forward to it every time.

Of course I’ll miss it here. I’ll miss the sunny, warm winter days when we could go to the park in short sleeves and flip-flops. I’ll miss our fantastic house and the view from our deck and the palm trees and the bougainvillea. I’ll miss our town and our little mall with the pottery studio and all the fountains and the two-level Target. I’ll really miss all the good friends we have around here and I’m trying not to think about that just yet. I want to enjoy my last times with them, to hang out and talk and laugh with them, and not be dragged down by a heavy heart. So I’m putting those emotions off till after we’ve left. They are there, hovering around the edges, but I’m keeping them at bay for now.

And by the time I give those emotions free reign, Troy will be home. I’m pretty sure we’ll be so happy to have him with us again that we won’t spend much time being sad. Aside from being kind and thoughtful and just generally awesome, this is the guy who sends his cats postcards about how they’d like the desert because it’s the world’s biggest catbox, just because he knew it would make us laugh. He’s good at making people laugh, and he does it a lot. Even 3,000-mile road trips are a blast with Troy.

Hey, that reminds me! A while back I painted Troy a mug. He’d mentioned that he would like for me to paint him one, and I told him to let me know what he wanted, and then he got distracted and never did. And then I had a fantastic idea and painted him a mug to send him for Christmas. I never blogged it because I didn’t want him to see it and ruin the surprise, but he’s had the mug for a couple of months now so I think I can post the photos.

It’s a fact: Troy is awesome. I regularly thank him, after I’ve heard stories about someone else’s husband being obtuse or irresponsible or neglectful, for being awesome. I painted this mug half in serious tribute, half as an inside joke. And at least once, when Troy was carrying this mug down a passageway on the ship, someone read the mug out loud as he passed by and he was able to cheerfully say, “You’re welcome!” See? Like I said: AWESOME.