Moving

My mom and Robert flew me down last weekend so I could help them move into their new mountainside home in Black Mountain. Amy and Cheri were kind to loan their muscles too, and Miss Bobbie showed up on Sunday to clunk our heads together like coconuts and whip us into shape. It went pretty smoothly. I only fell down the stairs once.

The house is beautiful. I kept saying I can't wait to live there. Peewee and I will love sitting near the fireplace and in the window seat and on the screened-in porch. And definitely not peeing on rugs.

On the plane from Detroit back to Chicago I sat next to this English guy. We talked for a bit and I understood about 50% of it. (I don't know how I keep meeting people on planes. I am NOT a plane talker.) He was really nice, but sort of goofy and smelly, which I hope was because he had been traveling all day. It was his first trip to the US, visiting family in Kalamazoo. Then when we were leaving the plane he said, "Are you on Facebook?" I said I sure am, English guy. So he gave me his name and now we're Facebook friends, which I'm sure means we'll K.I.T. forever. We walked through the airport together and he showed me a picture of him and his baby, and said the baby mama has only let him see the baby twice, and that she's crazy. I was like, whoa, TMI, new EBFF. Then we parted ways. He sent me a message a couple days ago and said he's going to be in Chicago before he goes back to England, and would I be able to meet up? I said I can't, but I really just hate going into the city on week nights, and didn't feel like being killed this week.

Cheri pretty much single handedly moved them.

My mom gave Miss Bobbie colanders for her birthday because she still had her 1970s Harvest Gold colanders.

Harvey's exhausted from all the moving.