Here we go... again.

Here we go… again.

So folks… about a month ago, Rocket-man came home following a week of business travel and, in his usual way, he greeted the ecstatic Poodle followed by a peck on the cheek for moi. He deposits his suitcases in the bedroom, unpacks, changes into comfortable attire, and gets himself an ice-cold beer. Drink in hand, he stands in the doorway of the kitchen watching as I prepare dinner.  For the record, I cannot recall what I was cooking up but I do remember chopping a red bell pepper.  Anyhow….

I ask him about his day, in my usual way, and listen with half an ear as I am semi-distracted with chopping my red bell pepper.  Okay…so full disclosure: Sometimes…every so often…well…maybe once a week…. I listen with half and ear when Rocket-man tells me about his work day. Most of the time his acronym-filled talk loses me quickly.  Actually, It’s not that he loses me.  It’s just that I get so fixated in trying to determine what the acronym actually stands for.  By the time I figure it out I’ve lost half of the conversation.   But I digress….

Here I am semi-checked-out in my own little world with my red bell pepper as Rocket-man talks á la Charlie Brown (you know….that “WAHHH-WAH WAH” sound) when the following reaches my consciousness:

…” so let’s go ahead and plan on a move.”

I am wide awake now.

Say what?! A move? Did you say moving?  As in physically leaving this house….this town….As in moving away from MIDDLE-EARTH?!

Quite frankly folks, I’m amazed that I didn’t slice off a finger.

“Yes,” says Rocket-man ever so matter-of-factually, almost as an after-thought–as if he was casually discussing the current weather while looking at his smart-phone App.    “I’ve got approval for working out of Northern Virginia, the Herndon office.  Or it could even be Maryland, near the Baltimore area.”

I almost fainted.

“You’re kidding me right?” I ask incredulously.  “I mean, here you are just casually mentioning this now after several phone calls to each other over the course of today and a good half hour after you get in the door?!”

“I’ve had a lot on my plate today,” he says adding; “I’m sorry that I’m just mentioning this now.  So,  well…what do you think about the proposal?”

“It’ll be like our back to the future…sort-of.”  I say with excitement, abandoning all efforts to prepare dinner.  “After all It’s where it all began for us (nearly 18 years ago)…unless of course we end up in Maryland which, though we’ve stomped through some of that State when we ran our 50-milers, it will be new territory to call home.  And…we’ll practically be neighbors to my sis and her family!”  Rocket-man sets down his beer and gives me a strong hug.

“It’s going to be really tough to leave this beautiful house.  It’s the loveliest house I’ve ever lived in…but I knew from the beginning, this wasn’t going to be forever.” I say softly.

“I know,” says Rocket-man surveying our lovely back yard through the dining-room window.  “But for a host of reasons, it’s going to be for the best.”

Leaving wonderful folks behind.  That’s going to be tough.  Leaving the land of  insect-hell, cyclist-hating redneck dogs, and supremely s-l-o-w internet; Definitely, not tough.

By the next day I had 25 boxes packed.  I’ve been a mad-woman de-cluttering the house, cleaning in true military wife fashion (well, former military wife), and now have the house photo-ready for the real estate agent.

Move number #15 ....or so.

Move number #15 ….or so.  I think I’ve lost count actually!

Whew. There you have it.

Another adventure is on the horizon folks!

Stay tuned.