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As I prepare to move away, I have been pondering how it will effect my life as I know it. We moved to Florida when I was 22. We moved away from the town that for all intent and purpose was my home town. I had gone to school there, and basically grew up there. I had a big network of family available within walking distance in most cases. I had the friends I had grown into adulthood with. School friends and work friends. I don't remember stressing over leaving them really. It was more about leaving my family. My parents, my sis and Memaw. 19 years later with my parents and my sis living within a 2 hour car ride, I am faced with a different set of emotions. We are all older now. Some of us (not I) have our feet planted very firmly. Chances are, my parents will not be following us to SC in under a year and my sis has her family and life in Miami. One of the reasons we chose SC, is because it is less then a day trip back to Florida. There is some comfort in that. I don...

pack clean pack set up inspection clean call Sue pack t minus 8 days til movers. t minus 9 days til move. Gettin a bit nervous but still hidden in the midst of excitment.

I figured with the upcoming move, that it may be a wise idea for me to start blogging again. I have moments where I do very well. I post something every day. Whether it is some deep dark secret or maybe just a vent. When my mind was totally dead of content, I used to share ideas on morons and news worthy idiots. Now theres an endless supply of material for sure. Since we are less then 2 weeks from the big day, I am vowing to be a better communicator. I am declaring my intent to be a better picture taker and a much more efficient letter writer. I will take 15 minutes a day to share the happenings of the Havey house. Since we will have no family or friends within 700 miles, electronic communication is going to be a very important part of my love lines to those that matter. I have mad computer skills. I can turn out crap better then folks who do it for a living, but for some damn reason I can't be bothered. Laziness in my excuse. Or maybe it is the 2 hours a day I spend qu...