The last week.

This was the last week. THE LAST WEEK. This was week 13, the week to which I’ve counted down, the week that always seemed like a too-far-away landmark, something hazy in the distance that I wouldn’t ever reach. And so, so quickly, I cam upon its shore, and I’m here to tell you, this summer has made me a better person. But that’s for another post. Let me tell you about week 13.

I gave you an after-the-move spiel, so I’ll pick up with watching the kiddos. We had one last day together, and then that was that. We went to lunch on Wednesday and I stood lingering in the kitchen for a long time, chatting about nothing because I knew that I wouldn’t be back on Sunday, and that seemed so weird and so final and walking out of the door was proving hard to do. So hard, in fact, that I decided to plant my laptop on the couch and leave without it so I could have an excuse to come back once I was half an hour down the road. (I’m kidding. About the planting part. Really I just forgot it.) I finally made it home- wait, no! I took a detour to the lake and it was sweller than swell. We went to church and went to Panera and watched The Matrix and ate popcorn. Thursday morning we scoured an antique mall and I am very happy with my purchases- I’ll show you pictures soon. And after lunch I gathered my bags and put them (and a whole lot of furniture) in the car, figuring I’d be home in an hour.

Oh people. I was so wrong. See, my car’s been doing something weird but it’s sort of been off my radar, because, well, I have a lot of other things on my mind and on my to-do list. So, as I left, my car started acting up again, and I just forged ahead, figuring it would stop and making a mental note to tell Dad. It didn’t stop. No, in fact it got worse, making all sorts of noises that sounded like BUBDGKHBFKD I’M BROKEN KDGBKFDBG and overheating. I prayed to the Lord to please, please let me get home, and when I saw that wasn’t going to happen, to please give me a place to stop on the seemingly deserted country road. Around the next bend there was a church. I pulled over there.

And then I sat (and consequently, sweated.) I sat for an hour and 45 minutes as I waited for someone to come retrieve me. And I was grateful! Grateful that the Lord had been so wonderfully protective and that Dad was available and willing to come get me and that nothing had blown up, but uh…I sat in a parking lot with my car off in August for almost two hours. I mean, I wasn’t thrilled, you know? Mostly, it’s the timing that stinks: I’m set to be in Tuscaloosa Monday and volunteering Tuesday and in Prattville and Birmingham and Tuscaloosa Wednesday- lots of driving, no? (Clearly my very favorite thing!) But alas, it’s a wait-and-see game as I hold my breath and pack my suitcases and pray that things get sorted out.

Tomorrow we’re heading to Tuscaloosa with some of my furniture and I move for keeps Monday afternoon.

This has been a beautiful summer, no? 


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