Forgive me father for I have lived, it’s been one month since my last blog post (if you’re not Catholic, you may not get that statement. If you ARE Catholic, you may not find the humor in it, oh well).
Those of you that ‘blog’ know what it’s like to WANT to post, but get too busy with life to do so. Those of you that take the time to read our words know that some people’s blogs are just plan BORING. Therein lies the dilemma, I’m busy living and I don’t want to bore anyone…
Today was too interesting not to share, at least with my faithful followers (a handful of family and friends). Lance has become good friends with the Realtor, Chris, who sold us our house. Keep in mind we bought it online without even stepping foot in Idaho to look at it. The whole move up here has been rather unconventional. I’ve discovered that Chris and Lance are birds of a feather when it comes to the way their minds work (both in constant overdrive). Chris sent Lance a craigslist link to a good deal on a fuel tank. Like the annoying wife I can be, I remind Lance that we have TWO fuel tanks already (maybe he just forgot).
In the morning, Lance had to meet up with a semi-delivery truck down at the entrance to the neighborhood (the road to our house is too steep/narrow/bumpy/curvy for said semi). After unloading the FIFTY uni-struts (I’m not qualified to explain what those are, other than long and heavy) Now, we’re ready for our next adventure. I plugged in the address to the fuel tankS (yes, they had TWO tanks we could buy). Off we go, no snow, new studded tires, it looked like smooth sailing to Washington state.
I’m not really fond of Spokane. The parts we’ve driven through are rather crowded, dirty and much busier than we’re use to. We’ve only been in Idaho 3 months but we’re already spoiled with the laid back lifestyle of our somewhat winterized-ghosttown of a lake community. Off we go! Insert long boring (yet still pretty) drive to the school that was getting rid of the fuel tanks. Ms. GPS did a good job getting us to our destination and we were in for a pleasant surprise. Set up high upon rolling hills in the middle of nothingness was Mount St. Michael’s Catholic School & Church. Lance winds around farmland and cemetaries to find the gymnasium and the pile of cast off treasures.
Mount St. Michael’s was truly a sight to see. Our contact is the maintenance man, Benny. He tells Lance they’re a self-sustained school. That explained why I saw the nuns working in the garden (while dressed in their long blue habits). While it would have been cooler to see monks keeping bees, there was something quite interesting about seeing a church school surrounded by their own farm land. I would have loved a tour, but getting home safely was my one desire this afternoon.
The next 30 minutes were spent pulling, lugging, then stacking 2 huge fuel tanks on the back of our truck. Benny was pretty handy with the forklift. Lance, thankfully, is the king of the bungie & straps. He asks me to inspect his work. My heart gets that sinking, fretful feeling of ‘oh no, here we go again’. And ‘I hope nothing flies off on the highway causing multiple wrecks around us’.
I can’t even begin to tell you all the different things Lance has managed to haul home (single-handedly I must add, since I’m a card-carrying member of the weaker sex). My friend Marie says that they should give Lance his own reality TV show. Hmmm, what would we call it, maybe ‘The Handiest Hubby’ or ‘What Has The Hubs Drug Home NOW?’. I’d post a photo of him poking around in the LIVE electrical box on the side of the house last weekend to set up the ‘off grid switch’, but it’s illegal to be in that box, so I won’t send my hubby to jail by sharing THAT photo. Here is a photo of today’s SCORE, after our 2 hour journey home.
It seems I’ve talked to God a whole lot more since we’ve moved. Partly out of gratitude for letting me experience this adventure and partly asking Him to keep us safe on said adventure. The long drive home took even longer since Lance found that going 45mph made us feel less like we were going to take flight with the tanks onboard. I didn’t exactly kiss the gravel driveway once we pulled in, but I did suck down a beer and thanked Him AGAIN for watching over us time and time again…
OK, any suggestions on how handy hubby can get those heavy tanks OFF the truck bed? Maybe we could just leave them on so that we don’t buy MORE. Ah, that’s a silly dream, since we’re headed back to Mount St. Michaels for some cast off metal siding… maybe I should bring the camera for the revist to MSM.