Moving, A Compromise

As you know Michael and I recently had "The Discussion" once again. "The Discussion" is of course that Mike perpetually thinks we should jam a for sale sign in the front yard and buy a newer home in a more urban setting. It's a real annoying habit he has, drives me crazy because folks, I ain't moving. Ever. Yesterday though, right here in our sleepy village there was a commotion, an incident, a hoo-ha, a to-do, a stir, a kerfuffle, a fuss, a hurly burly, the likes of which have never been seen in our little community before. Now what this disturbance got me thinking was, hmmm maybe this could be the solution to the whole moving issue.

First it's important to know that before the incident, while I was gathering my painting supplies together Abby snuck into the pantry and helped her self to the fairly new bag of oreo cookies. Did I mention she only eats the middles? By the time I caught her she had already licked the middles out of 7 cookies. Did I mention it was about 9 in the morning? Breakfast of champions right there. This will come back to haunt me later in the story.

So there I am snuggled up in the rocking chair with a mildly fussy Maya. She was much better yesterday, thanks for asking, but still not her 100% happy go lucky self. As we sat and rocked a cop car came flying up our street, lights flashing and quickly wheeled around to block the intersection in front of my house. I apologize in advance for some of the pictures. The window in our front hall was my best vantage point so I had to take them through the screen.




Now the cruiser itself was big news because we rarely see cops around here. And if we do, it's almost always going to be for someone you know because everybody knows everybody around here. So the road's blocked off and I'm wondering what in the hell for. Has there been an accident further up? Is there a fire somewhere? How long will the road be closed for? Like any nosy concerned citizen I camped out at my living room window to see if anything of interest was going to happen. Before too long a motorcycle cop showed up and parked at the intersection as well. Then a slow moving Toyota arrived on the scene with an older lady standing up and poking her head out the sun roof and a younger man leaning out the open window in the back seat. Both of them were focused on what was happening behind them. Next it was guys walking in hard hats and long poles with large hooks on the end of them talking loudly to the cops about how they weren't sure it would fit. And then:




They were moving an entire house. Let me tell you it takes a lot of people to move a house. There were police in vehicles and motorcycles, various hydro employees on foot and in trucks, telephone guys and I assume the people in the slow moving Toyota were really nosy the owners of the mobile home.



It was a wide as our street, hence the closing of the road. I couldn't get the whole house in one shot, but there was just about as much off camera.



Here it is finally moving through the intersection. Abby and I had moved on to the front porch to watch. She couldn't wait for Daddy to get home to tell him about the house that was on the road. While we were watching from the front porch we were joined by ChaCha and her parents. Abby jumped off the front porch to talk to her little friend and stepped right onto a thistle plant with only her socks on. Intially she was fine. She climbed back up on the porch, took her sock off and managed to pull one of the stickers out of her foot by herself. She had one that was stuck in a little deeper that she couldn't get a hold of. So off to the bathroom we went for major surgery. Now if you've read any of the posts regarding me removing slivers from Abby's hands or various small toys from her nose then you have to know that right about now is when the screaming begins. The screaming quickly escalated to foaming at the mouth and then to the hand on hand combat. No way was she going to allow me to remove anything from her person with that torture device tweezers. All the fighting and the screaming pushed the sticker all the way into her foot until there was nothing left to grab onto. I had no choice but to pin her down and try and squeeze the sticker out while fighting off a four year olds tantrum fueled assault on my person. I gotta tell you she might only be four, but she's strong. I did finally manage to get the sticker out of her foot, unfortunately not before she vomited brown (they were the all chocolate kind) oreo cookie middles all over the two of us. And Mike thinks nothing exciting goes on around here.