Finally!

My Crock Pot has been returned to me, safe and sound. I can't say that much for my bread bowl, but the casualties of the move were few, and we are all together again in a home that does not require a plastic card to open the front door.


This weekend, we attended our first traditional Winston-Salem annual event as a family. We went to Apple Fest, which is a nerd's paradise if I ever saw one. Therefore, we fit in perfectly and had a great time! We bought apple butter, drank apple cider, smelled apple pastries being baked, and watched a woman in Colonial-style garb bake an apple pie in a Dutch oven over an open fire. We saw people party like it was 1799. Sweet Pea, of course, wanted to sample every morsel of apple-y goodness we saw. Buddy wanted to climb rocks. Then, he didn't. He wanted to make a craft. Then, he didn't. He thought he might want to sample some honey. Then, he didn't. But, if you know our Little Buddy, you know that he is always easy going and happy to be wherever he is. Goo fell asleep, because that's what you do when you're eight months old and your parents drag you to their dorky festivals.
I assume DWH would have preferred to spend the entire day watching football, but he was a great sport and I'm pretty sure he had a good time, too.


So, who wants to be the first to come visit us and get dragged to stuff like this? We're taking volunteers!

We're Here!

We have, as of last Sunday, arrived in Winston-Salem. I guess we're not really official since we still have Alabama driver's licenses and car tags, but we have a new address, a new preschool, a new grocery store, and have begun the process of church shopping. The people here are incredibly friendly, and the weather has been nice.


As for that new address, it sure will be great when we can live there. Now, if you're a mom with more than one child or any children who are not potty trained and/or cannot feed themselves, you might want to sit down for this one. We have been in a hotel room with three children under the age of five for nine days, and will be here for six more days. The moving truck has other places to go before bringing our belongings to their rightful owners, so here we are, crashing at the ol' Residence Inn. Yes, we have two bedrooms, but have you heard the way that little one can howl?? Plus, I miss my Crock Pot. Taco soup...mmmmm.


While the current accommodations are not exactly ideal for a territorial control freak - I am, of course, referring to the children, certainly not myself - this isn't forever and we will be back in the land of three bedrooms (with doors!), sleeping in our own beds, on sheets that only have our cooties, in six short days.


Next week at this time, hopefully, I will be watching this odd little PBS cooking show on our very own TV that was made around the same year America learned the ZIP code for Beverly Hills. No more of this fancy high definition stuff for us! No, sir! OK, I might miss having a TV that's easy for my antique eyes to see. But, that's it.


The youngest of my brood just announced to the entire hotel that his nap is over. That was a peaceful twenty minutes. Back to the salt mines...