things we may or may not miss

the days leading up to our BIG MOVE were fraught with emotion. mostly crying. some blubbering. and some excitement. there were many things that i will miss, mingled with a few things i definitely won't miss.


i was able to put together a VERY last minute musical number with my dear jessica for church. i think we played the song 4 times total, including performance.

i may miss practicing my violin with my dear jessica. that's what nerds like us do on a friday night. at someone else's house. growing up it always bugged me when people would come to my house and want to play our piano. that was the last thing i wanted to do. that was torture. so i am sure that it is doubly worse when you do it as an adult and there are two violins screeching away. i screeched, jessica played with the skill of someone who actually learned theory. i thought theory was for the birds. 4 beats per measure in 4/4 time, what? trip-ple-let, trip-ple-let, trip-ple-let(anyone? anyone?)


action shot



check out the concentration. thank goodness i had high school orchestra to keep me out of trouble.



i'm glad that i won't miss this guy anymore since he will have more free time with his new job.

as i was packing up, i was in the depths of despair(name the book). then one day a prize that i had won via a fantastic blog in the mail came. it was tailored to me. it was a shining beacon in a dark night of sorrow. tender blog friend mercies.

perfect strangers sometimes know you so well.

~please note my nasty-asty packing face and attire. that apron and i were almost one because i wore it so much. it was fused to my neck from lack of washings.

i won't miss my kitchen looking like this:

or my living room looking like a flea market:

i will most definitely miss sunday dinner at my mom's house. if i had known our time in KC would be so short, then i would have spent EVERY sunday over there. free food and baby-sitting.

but i'm sure as reagan was the greatest president of the 20th century, i WILL NOT MISS this:

or this:
or this:

we had a lovely ice storm the week we moved. we were packing the truck up in 9 degree weather. LOVE IT. my pioneer abilities were at an all time low after that.

and word to the WISE. don't be like me and stick your finger in a clorox wipes container when half your ward is at your house loading your truck. it hurts like you-know-whatski and it's quite embarassing when your finger has to be freed by the local herpatologist's pocket knife. i shall never mock snake love again.

plus, this was not the first time i have done this, and it hurts even worse when you know what is happening. it's the combined efforts of shame and pain afflicting you.

this picture is about 10 minutes after i was freed from the clutches of the clorox wipes.

and i will most definitely miss this ol' place and everything that it represents; my inability to paint well, perfecting my spackling and sanding skilz, my fantastic closet that went on forever, my great friends who lived in close proximity, my callings in our ward, especially passing notes in primary about clothes, my running trails that all originated here, playing in our backyard with sidewalk chalk, hiding and seeking in the kid's bathroom closet, falling down a whole flight of stairs while holding a baby, teaching reagan to pedal on these sidewalks. the list goes on and on.

ps-it's still for sale.