Tag Archives: moving

It’s Time!

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“The future is always beginning now.”
~Mark Strand, Reasons for Moving

For those of you who follow me on Twitter (wifeyofasailor… but if you aren’t a MilSpouse or somehow connected to the military, I’ll probably block you if you don’t message me to let me know who you are!), you know I’ve been hinting at a secret that I was about to reveal. Well, it’s time to do that. Since I let my boss know at work yesterday.

I purchased Huzzy a ticket to come here to Michigan to visit me at the end of February. A one-way ticket.

No, he’s not going AWOL and running away from the Navy. He’s coming here and driving me back to Washington, ya’ll. That’s right. I’m moving. At that point, we’ll have been married just a few weeks shy of one year and spent only 7 1/2 weeks of that.  Many of you who have gone through deployment will be like, “Yeah, my deployment was 14 months, what of it?”  And those who aren’t MilSpouses may say, “That’s what you signed up for when you married him.”  (HINT: NEVER tell a MilSpouse that’s what he/she signed up for. That’s a 0-60 bad reaction waiting to happen).

Well, yeah, I signed up for deployments and dealing with them. But I DIDN’T sign up for being away from my husband because the economy sucks and I can’t sell my house. Only a few months of that time we’ve been apart has been due to deployment.

Of course, he’ll deploy a few short weeks from the time I arrive in Washington, but that’s another topic later. But at least I’ll get to spend a few weeks with him before I won’t see him until mid-to-late-summer.  A few weeks is better than nothing, eh?

And for those who are excited that I’ve finally sold my house or got a job… uh, no. We just can’t do this anymore. So I’m going to go on unemployment (Michigan allows MilSpouses to do this if their spouse is PCSed to another region) and try to find one in Washington. I know it’ll be sooo much easier to find one when I’m actually living in the area.

As for the house… well, that’s a very sore subject that I don’t want to write about in this VERY happy post. I’ll do it another time.

So in just seven weeks (funny, the amount of time we’ve lived together during our marriage), I’ll be living with my husband again.

*do a little dance… sing a little song*

Can you tell how freakin’ happy I am? OMG, I can’t even stand it.

PCSing Part 3

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I’ll be the in to your sane.
~Numan

So in my last post about PCSing, I mentioned that I had a ghost story for you.  Huzzy and I have a ghost in our house.  Or at least we did. He might have moved with our household goods and is on his way to Washington. We aren’t sure yet but haven’t heard from him recently so we are thinking so. That and what we think brought him into our house is now on the moving truck.

Let me give you the background of our ghost from what I wrote in another blog a year and a half ago:

Something weird happened last night. Rather, this morning. Actually, last night too now that I think about it. Anyway. This morning something woke me up and I opened my eyes but then closed them and was trying to fall back asleep because I had a couple more hours before my alarm went off. And thenGhost I heard it.

“Go sit down.”

Now, the fans were on in the house and stuff so I figured I imagined something. That was, until moments later, [then boyfriend, now Huzzy] rolled over and said to me, “What did you say?” He said this out of a deep sleep. And he sleeps pretty soundly too.

“Uh, I didn’t say anything,” I answered, “but I heard it too.”

After we both woke up this morning, we started talking about it. We both agree that we heard a man’s voice talking, though [Huzzy] didn’t catch what was said. Last night, when I was in the office on the computer waiting for [Huzzy] to arrive, I swear I heard him come in. I thought I heard the door open and the dogs got up and started getting excited—I could hear their tags rattling. So I called out to [Huzzy].

But he wasn’t there.

He also told me that the other night while I was asleep (he couldn’t sleep), he was watching the DKids channel and really thought he saw someone walk down the hallway—a man. Now, he admits that he was watching a show about hauntings so he thought that’s why he “imagined” he saw something… until this morning.

This isn’t the first time stuff has happened in my house, either. The dogs will occasionally get up and get all excited after hearing (and I hear it too) what sounds like my side door opening. Stuff is misplaced and I find it later right where I looked in the first place. I’ve heard speaking before but chalked it up to me living alone an imagining things.

Not anymore. This morning proved to me that there is a ghost in my house. Luckily I didn’t feel threatened, so I really don’t think he’s here to do any harm whatsoever. I’m going to do some investigating to see if I can find out the history of my house. It isn’t that old (1960s) so it’s not something that I have to delve deep into the history books to find.

And also this post a few days later:

I think the ghost followed me into my car. Yesterday, I forgot my cell phone at home, so I went home at lunch to get it. I was listening to the radio like I usually do. On the way home, though, when I went to listen to the radio, all my pre-set stations were one off. My #6 preset was now #5, my #5 was now #4, etc but my #1 preset was some odd station that I’d never heard of.

I’d have taken this as a coincidence had one of the stations been off… maybe I miss-pressed a button or something. But all of them being off by one? And missing my favorite station? I know I didn’t do that.

[Huzzy] and I think that we finally know what brought this all about. A few weeks ago, he bought a 1948 Singer sewing machine that came with a desk (the sewing machine is attached the desk and folds under so you can use it as a desk) and a stool. He bought it for $32 and knows that he can sell it on Ebay for quite a lot more (some are going for upwards of $350). He was bringing it to my house the night of his accident, which was a week and a half ago. Just a few days before things started happening in my house. *cue eerie music*

Yeah, the ghost has been with us for a while. Strange things happen randomly in the house, but we have never felt fearful. I think he’s just a lonely older man who wants company. Since Huzzy has been on leave, he’s been in the living room many times and thought he heard the side door open and thought I was home just like I have in the past. The dogs always go running and act like they are greeting someone in our kitchen.

Fast forward to Moving Day #2 when the movers were putting all our stuff in the moving van. After I came home from doing a few hours of work and after finding the missing cat and after retrieving the runaway dog from the neighborhood, Huzzy told me that our ghost made an appearance. I smiled because we hadn’t heard from him in a while and asked how he showed himself.

Huzzy said he was standing by one of the open doors (to try to catch our missing cat if she should appear and try to make a break for it) when one of the movers–Joe–came running up the stairs and yelling, “Pete? What is it Pete? What do you want? Pete?”  He was calling for the other mover. Why? Because he thought the other mover had called his name. Problem was, the mover was inside the moving semi with the semi driver that was parked on the street. No way for any names to be called. Besides, Huzzy hadn’t heard anything.

Joe started heading back down the stairs shaking his head and saying, “Wow, that was weird.”  Huzzy was pretty sure he knew what was happening but still asked him what was going on.  Joe said the he heard his name being called and thought Pete needed him for something. Huzzy then told him it was probably our resident ghost and told him the background of the ghost. Later on, still before I came home, Pete went down the stairs and got severe chills up and down his spine and broke out into goosebumps.

As soon as Huzzy told me the story I went down to the basement. I saw Joe and mentioned to him that it sounded like he met our resident ghost. He smiled and said he must have and that it was the weirdest thing. I looked around the basement and noticed that the 1948 Singer sewing machine was already gone. I asked Joe if it had been packed in the truck before or after he met our ghost. He said it had been moved about 10 or 15 minutes before. I smiled and said, “Yup, that’s our ghost.”

I later mentioned something to the truck driver (he had already heard about the story). I told him that the ghost may be traveling with him but that he wasn’t a mean spirit and would just be along for the ride following the sewing machine. The driver just smiled and said it sounded fine to him since that way he’d have a companion in the passenger seat.

I might actually miss our ghost. I hope he makes it to his destination okay and isn’t peeved about the move.

-Wifey

PCSing Part 2

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If you break your neck, if you have nothing to eat, if your house is on fire, then you got a problem. Everything else is inconvenience.
~Robert Fulghum

Moving Day #1 was easy. Which should have had me prepared for what happened on Moving Day #2.  But it didn’t.

The truck driver who is driving our stuff out to Washington showed up on time at 8 a.m. The movers (two of the three guys who were here packing the day before) showed up abotu 45 minutes later. But that gave me time.

Time to do what you ask? To find my missing cat. We have several animals, including two cats named Jake and Sadie.  We needed to have all the animals put into two rooms so that there was no risk of anyone getting out while the movers had the doors open. Dogs in one room, cats in the other. Dogs are really easy to get into the room.  You just tell them and they go.

Cats don’t operate that way. Jake is easy to corner into a room because he’s totally food motivated. Sadie was born a

Sadie laying on the couch.

Sadie laying on the couch.

feral cat and if she thinks there is any way that you are going to pick her up or that she is going to be corraled somewhere, she wants no part of it.  So after being locked in a room the first day, Sadie sure as heck wasn’t going to allow me to do the same to her the second day.

I fed the cats in the morning and, of course, my foodie Jake was easy to lock in once he heard the food. Sadie, on the other hand, took off running toward the basement. I followed her because the last thing I wanted was a loose cat in the house when the movers were coming in and out.  She saw me, so headed back up the stairs and I again followed her.

But it was then that I lost track of her. I looked everywhere: behind the furniture, under the furniture, in the fireplace, behind boxes–I even went back to the basement to look for her.  No luck.

So the movers arrived and as I held back tears, I let them know that there was a cat loose. I figured that she’d hide and not move a muscle until whatever she was using as cover was picked up to be put in the moving truck. Then, she’d hightail it somewhere else, but that I’d hopefully catch sight of her. I was hoping that she didn’t try running up or down the basement stairs only to be met with another mover. You see, the only thing that scares Sadie more than the unknown outside world is unknown strangers… and especially male strangers. So I had a feeling that she’d choose to run outside instead of trying to run by a strange man. And if she ever made it outside, there was no way I was going to get her back. She’d be gone for good.

So Huzzy and I manned the doors and would periodically try and look for the missing calico. I had a radio interview that I had to do at work at 10:15 in the morning, so I headed to work for a couple hours, expecting that there would have definitely at least been a sighting of Sadie by the time I returned.  When I got back a couple hours later, Huzzy was manning the side door and all the doors in the house were open.  He said that Sadie had not been found yet.

I looked around the house at the absence of furniture and boxes knowing that she should have been sighted by then. The worry and frustration of a missing cat and the sadness of the upcoming separation of Huzzy welled to the surface and spilled over my cheeks. Through the tears, I told Huzzy that the movers were not going to be allowed to leave until the cat was found. The last thing I wanted to do was unpack a dead cat months later.

I knew that if she had been mistakenly taken into the moving semi that she’d be terrified and would probably be meowing in the truck. I could go in alone and in the quiet and start talking to her and she’d finally talk back.

I decided to take one last look around the house and re-checked everything. Including the fireplace. Which is where I found her. Sadie had managed to wedge her self into the corner of the fireplace and was camoflaged because only her calico parts were showing… which blended perfectly with the bricks. I picked her up (one of her most hated things in life) and took her to the room where the other cat was being held. She clawed me and meowed pitifully the whole way but there was no way I was going to let her go. She actually tried to jump down into the room in joy… since that room hadn’t been touched by the movers and was familiar.

That should have been enough stress and strain for the day… but it wasn’t. After going to hug Huzzy in relief, I asked him if the dogs had been let out since breakfast (they go out when we get up and then again after breakfast… then they are set for the day until the evening two or three let outs). He said they hadn’t, so I started with the youngest dog, our deaf Great Pyrenees puppy, Skah, who is 15 months old.

Skah at 1 year old... and 10 pounds lighter than he is now at 15 months!

Skah at 1 year old... and 10 pounds lighter than he is now at 15 months!

I took him by the collar and, after checking to make sure the fence was still intact and closed, let him go outside to potty. I called him inside (okay, yeah he’s deaf, so I guess it would be better to say that I “signed to him” to come inside). He took a great big run up the ramp and after noticing that I had missed my grab for his collar, promptly took off for the wide open side door.

I hightailed it after him screaming for Huzzy to come and help. Knowing that he was not only a puppy who was enjoying “freedom” but also a deaf dog who couldn’t hear us calling him or hear cars coming, I started panicking. I didn’t run behind him because I didn’t want him to think that I was chasing him. So I ran in the street parallel to him while he ran across lawns and down sidewalks. I told Huzzy to get the truck because I wasn’t sure I could keep up with him for long (he was running really quickly). He started slowing down to check out things at the neighbors, but was still moving quickly.

Then I got lucky.

Skah decided to try to check out a backyard that had a dog in it. He went to the side of the house and went up to the chain link fence. But there was the house blocking one side and a stockade fence blocking the other. I knew that he had a lot of space to try and dart around me (it was about 10 feet of space) but I was ready to jump on top of him and tackle him.

But I didn’t need to do that. He saw that I had him pretty much cornered and gave me a look of, “Oh crap. Jig’s up.  I give up.”  And he walked right to me to let me grab his collar.

I walked him home as I panted the entire way (I really need to start running again, or I won’t make it through DCOIC when I do the reserve Navy officer mini-boot camp later this year). I pretty much collapsed after that.

I was done. PCSing had nearly killed me that day. And I haven’t even told you about our resident ghost showing up. That’s for another saga in the PCSing story. It’s a funny one, so wait for it!

-Wifey

PCSing Part 1

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The future is called “perhaps,” which is the only possible thing to call the future. And the only important thing is not to allow that to scare you.
~Tennessee Williams, Orpheus Descending, 1957

As I sit on a mound of dog beds here in a bare room with our three dogs as company, I can hear strangers in my house.  These strangers have been invading our life and going through our things since 8:30 this morning. They know way too much about us… what we like to eat, what we do in our spare time, the types of foods we cook and even what type of underwear I prefer.

They are the movers. The people who are systematically going through our things and packing them away never to be seen until… well, I don’t know.  That’ll depend on the Michigan housing market and the Washington state job market. This is the “perhaps” future Tennessee Williams was talking about.  Unfortunately, it does scare me.

I’ve never moved like this before… with all the uncertainty. I moved with my family when I was 15 to a bigger city and sure, there was definitely uncertainty there, but I was with my family. And they were a sure thing.

Then I moved away to college and while there was uncertainty there, too, there was a lot of excitement. I was, for the first time, considered a grown-up and boy was I excited to start college. And then there were the two other times I moved in college, but they were just for better apartments. Nothing uncertain about that.

The next time I moved, it was 45 minutes away, but I moved because I had graduated college four months prior and had been working at my new job for a month and needed to be closer. There was definitely excitement about being “on my own” completely and being part of the adult working world. The next move would be to leave my roommate and rent a townhouse on my own so I had lots of space.

And from there, 3 1/2 years ago, I bought my own house. While there was the uncertainty that every first time home owner faces, my life wasn’t uncertain. I’d been at my job for more than six months and had no plans of going anywhere anytime soon.

But I also didn’t have plans to meet an active duty Sailor just less than a year later. And I definitely didn’t have plans to marry the said Sailor a year and a half after that.

But here we are. And here I am. Sitting in a room and watching the dogs occasionally get up to pace because their routine has been unsettled. Every once in a while, Skah is waking up to growl at the door. He’s doing it in his sleep, but at 15 months old, I think his natural guarding instincts are kicking in. I don’t think he likes the fact that there are strange men in the house and he’s trying to protect me. The cats are remarkably quiet in the other room, but I think that’s because they don’t like strangers in their house, either, and are hiding.

Every once in a while I have to blink back the tears that are coming from a mixture of the unknown, nostalgia and the sadness that has been looming over me because of Huzzy’s impending departure without me. I know it’s the lot of a Navy wife, but this is a different sort of separation. With a deployment, I’ll have a relatively good idea of when to expect him back. With our situation, I have no idea when we’ll be able to live together again. Probably the day after he deploys on a four month mission. That would be my luck.

And it’s tough here. No one really understands what I’m going through. There are really no other military families in the area so it’s not like there’s a lot of support. Sure, I have the support of my family and friends, but they don’t understand. Not one iota. And only two people know of my situation at work. My supervisor and my maid of honor… who is a co-worker. So no one understands the stress I’m going through at the moment. And they won’t know until it’s time to leave.

Though I told my supervisor because she directly asked me when Huzzy was leaving, I don’t want to lose my job in this economy, so no one else can know. My supevisor is being great and even said she’d be reference for me for jobs in Washington. But that still puts both of us in a bad situation–her knowing about my leaving and me having to tell someone at work–and that’s not fair for either of us.

Tomorrow, the movers will return to finish their job and take all the boxes they packed today and put them on the truck bound for Washington and for a storage unit somewhere.