Last time (so long ago it is all but forgotten...)I wrote about Part 1: Where We Were, so now it's time for where we are.
Oooh, except I need to tell one little tale about How We Got Here.
Part 1.5: How We Got Here
The move to Montana was weirdly smooth. If you remember our
pukefest move to Oregon, you may recall that it was not smooth. Slimy, yes. Smooth, no.
But this time was different.
Between what history will refer to as The Great Purge (again, a whole different sort of purge than the last move...) where I did my best to empty our home of possessions before we moved and having several weeks more than we had expected to pack, we were in great shape.
I could have pinned a picture of the inside of our moving truck to Pinterest and it would have gone viral. It was that good.
There was really only one possible glitch: the tow dolly.
The tires on Jason's pickup were at the top edge of the approved size so there was a chance it wouldn't fit on the tow dolly behind the truck.
No big deal, said we. If that happens we'll just do a switcheroo and I'll drive the pickup and we'll tow the minivan.
And of course, because that was the ONLY possible glitch, that is what happened.
The truck fit width-wise, which I was excited about, but those strappy things that actually hold the truck onto the tow dolly were about 8 inches too short. And that seemed significant.
So we went through the rigmarole of moving all the things Jason had safely packed into his truck and crammed and smooshed and wiggled them into all the available space in my van. Jason put the van on the tow dolly. And it fit! Hooray! I even checked the strappy things and they fit beautifully.
Then there was a strange clunking noise and when I looked at Jason he was just staring at me through the van window.
I was looking around at the wheels and the tow dolly and wondering why he wasn't getting out when I realized what that clunk had been.
Turns out my van rides low enough to the ground that if you tried to open the doors they hit against the side of the tow dolly.
And the kids and I laughed because it was funny that Daddy was stuck in the van.
Except it turned out that he really was stuck. Neither front door would open. Neither side door had enough room to open. He was completely barricaded in the front seat by all our possessions. If he opened the window and climbed out, there was no way to put the window back up. Same problem with the sunroof.
So many openings and no way to get out.
I kept laughing, but Jason wasn't laughing quite so much.
So the final answer was he'd just have to climb out the back. Through the 6" gap between the TV box and the ceiling and through the gauntlet of the rest of our junk. While we laughed but he did not.
The kids still randomly say, "Remember when Daddy got stuck in the van?" and everyone has a good laugh.
Part 2: Where We Are
And it really is beautiful. We live 10 minutes outside the city and are surrounded by mountains and woods. (Perhaps I shouldn't call it a city. Let's say town. Unlike the last small town we lived in, this one has no Walmart and no fast food. Both of which I consider to be perks. My kids have only had fast food twice since September 1st. Liam has even stopped asking for nuggets and fries at every meal. It's a beautiful thing. And yes, apparently you have to remove the fast food to 60 miles away before I stop giving in at dinner time and zipping through the drive through instead of cooking...)
There are deer everywhere and the little fawns have grown a ton over the months we've been here. They're often right up close to the house.
Even when there's a superhero right at the window.
There are the most beautiful woods - right on our property! You should smell the air here. It's like a spa treatment for the lungs.
We also have the World's Creepiest Stump.
And the stars. Oh my heavens, the stars! Just picture the most stars you've ever seen then multiply that by 1,000,000. Um, you still better double that. There are that many. It's gorgeous. So gorgeous that it makes highly educated people stand shivering in the cold, craning their necks up and saying, "Wow......ooooh......wow... so many.....wow....AHHH! BAT!" That last part was for the bat that kept dive bombing our heads. Those things are so silent. And flappy. And REALLY hard to see in the pitch dark.
The Milky Way? It really looks milky. Seeing as the real reason I did rocket science in college was because I like looking at stars, not because I want to design space craft to go visit them, I'm in heaven. Or maybe just below the heavens.
So hello from beautiful Montana. Come visit us!