While we were taking our walk yesterday, Cliff and I got to comparing notes about how often our families moved when we were kids. Cliff likes to say that his parents moved every time the rent came due, but I don't think it was quite that bad.
The worst thing about moving, when you're a child, is going to a new school. Cliff decided it might be a good thing, in a way, because maybe a kid learns to adapt to new situations.
"I learned to adapt, all right," I said. "I just ignored everybody and kept to myself."
I remember well my years at Skinner School, the one-room school I first attended. My parents were the telephone operators at Guss, Iowa, then. But I vaguely recall us living on one of Ted Davis's farms some time or other. There were sheep there, it was winter. Daddy was in bed with pneumonia at some point. I don't know what we were doing for money; Daddy must have been working as a hired hand for Ted, and perhaps the house was part of his pay. I think I had to attend a different country school while we lived there, but it was such a short period in my life that it's all blurry. Mother let me stir the gravy once, and I thought that was a big deal.
My parents were telephone operators in Villisca, Iowa, for awhile. I have sharp memories of things that happened in the house there, but I don't remember attending school. Perhaps I was too young. There are no pictures from there.
We lived at Eagleville, Missouri for two or three years, until the telephone office closed. That's me, standing beside my fourth- or fifth-grade teacher, who also taught my mother when she was in school.
There was a time when we moved to Harlem, in Kansas City, but didn't stay long. That's when somebody decided I should be advanced a grade. It was horrible, mainly because the math was beyond my comprehension. Here's a strange thing: I don't remember a house associated with this brief stay in the city; maybe we stayed with one of my uncles.
Another time we moved to the Kansas City area and lived in Riverside, up on a hill in a basement house where the block walls were always damp. The only thing I liked about that place was that I could see the Riverside drive-in theater from our yard. It didn't take me long to figure out that movies aren't very interesting if you can't hear what's being said. I walked up the road to a school where I never got to know a single kid. The only thing I remember about that school is the lunchbox my mom got me, and the hot cocoa she sent in my thermos.
Daddy worked as a hired man on a farm near Eagleville after the phone company went modern. Words can't begin to describe how much I loved living on that farm.
Our final move to Kansas City took us first to a tiny apartment in a building that had once been a grocery store. Two uncles and their families lived in the downstairs apartments. There was one bathroom for the occupants of four apartments, a bathroom that had only a stool and a sink. There was no tub or shower available to us; we'd never had one before, so I guess it was no big deal. We had running water there for the first time. Cold running water, no hot.
Only a levee stood between our apartment house and the Missouri River. I loved playing on the levee.
Next we moved a couple of blocks down the street to a two-story rental house that I think might have had running water, but no bathroom.
And then my parents became home owners for the very first time and moved across the road. Now we had all the amenities: hot water, a bathtub, you name it. That's where we lived when I took the picture that's in the previous entry of my mom talking on the phone.
This picture of some of my cousins was taken in the front yard of that house.
Now, at some point in those Kansas City years, we lived in a dumpy little rental house on Antioch Road, but I don't know where that fits in. I remember really liking Tab Hunter and Elvis, when we lived there; I must have been thirteen.
After my parents sold the Harlem house, they bought a little prefab, newer home in Crestview, a subdivision in Kansas City North.
That's me, with one of the smartest dogs I've ever had; his name was Danny Boy. We had to keep him tied in the yard when we were gone, and neighbor kids teased him a lot. He started biting strangers, some salesman threatened to sue us, and Mother called Wayside Waifs to come and take him away. I guess I never have had much luck with keeping dogs.
Notice how the house next door looks just like ours.
Crestview was near St. Pius high school, so it was a heavily Catholic neighborhood. At one time or another I babysat all those kids except for the oldest boy.
Here's the car my parents drove when we lived in Crestview.
I never made another move with my parents; they moved to Blue Springs because of my dad's job, and I moved to an apartment by myself until shortly before I married Cliff. Since we got together, we've moved a total of six times; one of those moves simply bounced us right back to this place, which we've owned since 1975.
We had our fill of moving before we ever met one another.
I only wish I had thought to ask Mother before she died why we so often relocated to places where we hardly stayed long enough to change the address at the post office.
Here you see the most frivolous thing Cliff and I ever bought (and we've bought many). It's my new hot tub. Left to right, that's me, Cliff's sisters Rena and Charlene, and Charlene's husband, Pat. (By the way, the foam is gone now; we purchased some anti-foaming stuff.)I'm still trying to get the PH lowered to the proper level. I've learned chlorine has to be added after each use. If I ever get all that right, I'll feel like a chemist. Wish me luck.Charlene and Pat moved to St. Louis a year ago to take advantage of a job opportunity, but they left a lot of their furniture and "stuff" in their farm house not far from here. The house sat uninhabited all this time, but of course the yard had to be mowed, the wintertime temperatures had to be kept above freezing, and so forth. It was a hassle, with them living over three hours from here.Then they were presented with an opportunity similar to the one we had when Cliff's sister needed a place to live after her divorce and moved to our old house: a gentleman they knew got his divorce finalized and sold his house; he needed a place to live.The only down side to this (to them) is that they have to get rid of the "stuff" at the farm. Charlene will keep some of it. She's given me every type of shelving and storage item she owns because I need such things for my new back room and for the section of the new garage Cliff says is mine. My daughter has needed a hutch for years, to display some red dishes my mom bought her years ago; now she has one.I guess all that is not really a "down side", though. If they haven't used it for a year, they probably need to get rid of it. It's just hard for people who work all week to devote a couple of weekends to moving. Meanwhile, because they're in the area moving things, they're spending the weekend at our house. And what better way to get rid of the aches, pains, and worries involved in moving than to relax in a hot tub? They'll be here next week too, finishing up.That spot where I'm sitting in the hot tub is a lounge-type seat that massages upper back, lower back (kidney area), backs of thighs and calves, and the bottoms of the feet. It is SO relaxing! When I get out, my whole body feels limp as a wet noodle. My knees don't hurt for hours afterward.My husband bought this extravagance specifically for me, but he's found out it works wonders on the shoulder and back he abused during his butchering years.
As we sat in the warmth of the hot tub last night with gentle rain falling around us, my brother-in-law sighed and said, "I wonder what poor folks are doing tonight?"
Indeed, we felt rich.
My sister-in-law is moving into our old house while she recuperates from the whole divorce process... which isn't over yet, by the way. She has lots of heavy stuff out in our shop just waiting to be moved to the house, so every time somebody with substantial strength comes by, Cliff puts them to work. Here you see our son-in-law pitching in to move Rena's hide-a-bed sofa. Very, very heavy, and awkward to get through doors.
Here they come!
Cliff's in the lead, they're almost to the door.
It'll only go through the door if you turn it just so.
Cliff's almost 63, but lately I'd call him Superman.
Of course, even Superman has to rest sometimes.The sofa was a piece of cake to move, compared to the tanning bed they had to take up a flight of stairs in order to find a spot for it. Greetings to a new reader, Tana, who discovered this blog and, upon seeing the picture on the last post, realized she is a neighbor to Cliff's brother, Don, and left a comment.I guess that means I'll have to watch what I say about my sister-in-law when I'm blogging. (Of course I jest. :-x )Tana, next time you see Don, tell him he might be done moving Rena, but Cliff is still at it.
That's Cliff, his brother Don (who drove the U-Haul) and his brother Phil. Phil's the oldest, Don's the youngest. They hadn't been to bed for over 48 hours when this was taken.
We've had a hectic two or three weeks around here, and it isn't over yet. We've exterminated ants, had a water softener put in, had the air conditioner worked on, and moved and moved and moved.Cliff has spent the previous three days with his two brothers, moving his sister here from Wisconsin, which you can read about HERE. I blogged about it on AOL because I had so many pictures, and they have that album format that Blogger and Flickr don't seem to offer.Cliff needed to mow hay last week, but between the rain in the forecast and the big run to Wisconsin, it didn't get done. He hates putting up hay that is past its prime, but it can't be helped. There's still an endless list of things to be done around here, and much furniture to be moved from the shop into our old house for his sister. We're trying to figure out how to get a tanning bed upstairs, over there. Those things are heavy!
I've been moving all week long, and now have most of my earthly possessions here at the mobile home. It's been a week of ups and downs, and there is still much to do. Today Culligan will see that our water softening equipment is installed; and the central air conditioning will be hooked up and charged, just in time for a heat wave: I'll have A/C for the first time in my life.
Also, an exterminator will come by and treat beneath the trailer for ants. He was going to be in the area treating a local church anyway, so he gave me a deal. No guarantees, though: "If you live in Missouri, you will have ants," he told me. Thank goodness for Terro, which has killed literally thousands of the little varmints in the past few days. Amazing stuff, and I read about it on somebody's blog. I may be the last civilized person to discover this stuff, because both my sister and my daughter were familiar with it. 
Those are dead ants you're seeing. I love dead ants.
Although not everything is hung up or put away properly, the inside of this trailer house is feeling like home. As for the outside, that will probably take all summer. We will eventually have a driveway and a yard and some add-on porches and a deck; right now we're simply in a trailer house in the middle of the pasture, out behind the barn.
You can't believe how much quieter it is, five hundred feet further back than the old house. I haven't seen a single dog crapping near this house. Sadie used to spend half her days barking at the numerous mongrels roaming through our yard; now the only dog she occasionally sees is the retarded boxer she hates with a passion.
I can barely hear motorcycles going past on the gravel road, or on the highway.
I'm throwing away clothes I don't wear and items I don't use (except for the silly old things I love, and in this house, I can keep those in reach and revel in the memories they evoke). I sold my Kitchen-Aid mixer for $75 on Craigslist, because at this point in my life all I need is a hand mixer. I don't bake like I did a dozen years ago when I bought the thing.I am thoroughly enjoying having a second bathroom, another first for me. No more waiting for Cliff to hurry up and get ready for work so I can "go". Ah yes, an addition to my list of life's simple pleasures.
I rode my horse twice this past week. One of those days, I was surprised to see a young lady park her car and take a walk on the river bottoms; it's so secluded down there, I'd hate to be on foot all alone.
This is a rambling bit of nonsense, I know. I usually try not to cover numerous subjects in one entry, but since I already have, I'll share a couple of pictures of Cinch, the pup belonging to the couple who board their horses here. 
There he is with his proud owner, Adam.
He's a difficult dog to photograph because he's so seldom still.
Here he is practicing his herding techniques on Secret, who is neither impressed nor intimidated.
We are officially moved, but Cliff's work has only just started. The poor man deserves a medal for all he's done. For instance: The trailer house came equipped with a refrigerator and range. However, the refrigerator was too small to suit me, and the range didn't have a timer. I can't cook without a timer... I go off doing something else and burn everything. Also, it was old enough that it used pilot lights. With the current price of propane, I wasn't fond of having three small open flames burning expensive fuel twenty-four hours a day. So Cliff and I switched these appliances from one house to the other. That in itself wasn't an easy task, getting them through doors that were barely big enough to squeeze through. Then the kitchen range fittings on the two stoves were different, even though they're both propane stoves. Cliff had an awful time making the stove I already had work here.I still have piles of stuff here and there, and I seem to spend half my time looking for stuff. I'll go in a room to get something, see something that needs doing, start on that, and totally forget what I was originally doing.Cliff's job has only begun. There's skirting, and dirt-work, and so much more.His sister, Charlene, and her husband were in the area yesterday; they brought pizza for supper, which was much appreciated. We all had a great, relaxing visit.
I know this is a lot of rambling, but that's about all I can muster at this point.
We have electricity at the trailer house. Please forgive me for my terminology, but it's my mobile home/manufactured housing, and I prefer to call it a trailer. Anyway. Now that we have water and electricity and propane, we will move. Not that there's all that much left to move. You see, I have a pioneer spirit, and I've been moving ever since our house arrived.
With this; it's the closest thing I have to a covered wagon. Actually, using it was Cliff's idea. He got tired of watching me carrying arm-loads of stuff to the trailer and said, "Why don't you use the little red wagon?"
We bought that wagon twenty years ago as a Christmas gift for my oldest grandson, Arick. Who knew it would end up serving as a moving van?
It's amazing what I can get on there. Here's my latest load.
Here I am, arrived at my new home. Those steps are temporary; we'll have some sort of porch there before you know it.There are so many things to do, but now we can do them a little at a time. Tomorrow the Culligan man comes to see where we'll put our water softener.
