If I Click My Heels Can I Go Home?

That was exactly what was running through my mind during our first few days here in North Carolina.  There were times I wanted to tell the movers to unpack it all because I was not planning on staying here.  However, it is starting to grow on me.  This will never be like Clermont, but it can become our home if I really try. 

So, let me back up and catch you up (since I haven't posted due to the fact that I haven't had internet).  The movers came Wednesday a week ago to start packing our things into boxes.  I was expecting a crew of a few strong men.  A truck pulls up and who did they send?  They sent one of the skinniest men I have ever seen - ONE!  "Good luck" is all I could say.  The next day he brought a few more helpers and before too long they had everything we owned in boxes.  Thankfully, I had packed enough stuff to last our family one week because they picked up all the boxes on Friday and, because they don't work on the weekends, our stuff sat on the truck until they delivered it on Monday.

While our stuff stayed behind, we left on Friday afternoon to head on up to North Carolina.  We thought we had plenty of time to get there at a reasonable hour.  Ha!  If you don't know anything else about me you should know:

1. I hate driving.
2. I hate driving fast.
3. I hate driving in the dark.
4. I hate driving long distances.
5. I hate driving in the rain.

The trip started out so well.  Hmmm . . .except for Danny trying to get me to drive over 60. (Yes, on the interstate.)  So, three hours into our trip we stop at a park for a picnic dinner.  Hallelujah, because Jonah had pointed out every truck and, frankly, I was tired of talking about trucks.  The boys had fun playing and then we loaded back up for the second half of our trip.  It is getting dark . . . dun, dun, dun . . . then it starts raining.  Well, raining is not the word for this precipitation.  It was coming down so hard that people were going 30 on the interstate.  I was trying to follow Danny, but I just couldn't do it.  I followed the first person I saw who was exiting.  (They led me to a Waffle House.)  Then I tried to call Danny to let him know that I had gotten off.  He couldn't hear his phone over the rain and couldn't see to know that I wasn't following him.  By the time he answered, I was crying so hard he couldn't even understand me.  He eventually made it back to the Waffle House.  He came and sat in the van with me until the storm passed. 

We made it to our new house by 12:30.  Yes, a 6 hour trip became an 8 hour trip.  We unloaded the necessities and crawled in bed by two.  Oh, and one more thing you should know about me:

6.  When I am old and rich, I will hire a chauffeur.

So there you have it - our trip to North Carolina.  I hope to post again very soon about our first few days and pictures of our new house - once we unpack the camera cord.