The Sacrifices and Love from a Move

The move from our bungalow to our new house on the farm was a success. 

However, we still aren't fully unpacked and I forgot the silverware at the old house for a few days.

But, we are here....at home.

It seems as if I always make my way to The Brick in Jonesville, Indiana before major events in my life.  I enjoyed a greasy burger and cold diesel at the classic, American, whole-in-the wall a week before my wedding.  And last week I went there with friends the night before we moved.  

But it was needed, a Great American getaway just 25 minutes from my home.

When you hang out with country boys and ask them to help you move, you have to take "shooting breaks".  I was happy to participate and let them hang out for a bit since they were moving all my furniture on a cold, Friday night.

But it was a beautiful night at that.  And going back and forth, and back and forth behind pick-up trucks wasn't a bad Friday night at all.

However, I must have been a little "off" from moving.  

It was still pretty chilly the week we moved, but in all the chaos I somehow packed up our spare space heather.  

So I froze the last night in our bungalow.

And when will I learn my lesson about getting up before the farmer to have the hottest shower?  Never, apparently.  My last shower in the house was a cold one.  

And as I started brushing my teeth, I realized I had grabbed the wrong toothbrush.......

BUT when packing up a bin full of the farmer's old sweaters, we found this beauty.

A vintage sweatshirt from a Field Day on the farm when his dad was still alive.  The corn logo with the family name seemed to be the perfect attire for the day as we moved to another house on the family farm!

The one good thing about moving is that you find things you forgot you had.

As we unpacked all the nooks and crannies of the bungalow, I found all these lovely pink boxes.

What are they?

The wonderful and beautiful pink boxes are full of our china.  

The china that the farmer rolled his eyes about and could care less about.

It's the china that I now have room to display in a cabinet and serve my fancy appetizers and wild game on when we have guests.

So we moved on Saturday and got a dog on Sunday.  

Not only were all my processes and habits messed up in the move, now I have a dog.

For those that know me, I don't really like dogs.  

But now I have one and his name is Tank.  

He's an English Pointer and a hunting dog so at least there's that.

Moral of the story, I really love my husband.

But my husband dealt with me in the move. 

He let me take naps from my exhausting workdays and drives when I should have been packing.

He made friends with Fran at the grocery store who gave him lots of boxes for our move.

He dropped what he was doing and came every time I yelled his name from another room to help me, even if it was to review how to organize a closet he doesn't care about.  

And after the move when I called him from the house because I couldn't figure out how to unlock the door, he left the farm and drove home to help me.

Now he has a dog and a pasture to take walks in.  

And I have more room for my china and I can see my clothes in the closets better.

Oh, and I have love from the farmer and the dog.

Even in our new house, we have each other.  

Honestly, it doesn't feel much different because our stuff is here and so are we.  

However, the best part of the new house is our new backyard view.

The bungalow didn't have this.

It seems as if I can get use to sacrificing, loving and making new memories with the farmer in our new home with my new dog and my new view.