In our lovely Deseret . . .

(I apologize in advance for the lack of pictures--more pictures won't be forthcoming until I unearth the necessary equipment from a box currently residing in the labyrinth of boxes in my parents basement).

This week has been a momentous one for us: on Monday, Dan and I, along with the help of two stalwarts from the ward (thank you Adam and John!), and a friend to watch Andrew for the duration, managed to pack (almost) all of our worldly possessions in a 16 foot Penske truck. After loading the truck, we spent an afternoon frantically cleaning our apartment before picking Andrew up, having a celebratory dinner at Olive Garden, and driving out of State College enroute to Baltimore. I have to admit that it hurt a little to reflect that this would likely be my last time driving out of State College like that. I will miss Central PA, that's for sure! And not least because of the friends we leave there.

Tuesday morning, Andrew and I flew from Baltimore to Atlanta to Las Vegas. And because I'd purchased an extra seat for Andrew (who wants 30+ lbs of wriggling toddler on their lap for five hours, regardless if the airline allows it?), I spent the layover trying to maneauver myself, Andrew's stroller (with Andrew in it, of course), his diaper bag, my laptop bag, and a carryon bag, and Andrew's suitcase through the airport. If you're trying to picture this, I had the diaper bag on my back like a backpack, the carry-on and laptop bags slung over my left shoulder and the carseat slung over my right arm. I still have bruises on both thighs from where the respective bags and carseat banged into me as we rushed through the airport. In Atlanta, we had approximately thirty minutes to make it between two widely spaced points in different terminals--we made it, with just a few minutes to spare (I think there were only two people to board the plane after us). Not surprisingly, given our own narrow arrival, our luggage didn't make the transfer with us. From Las Vegas, we took a shuttle to St. George, where Dan's sister, Sarah, was to pick us up. Unfortunately, there had been a little bit of a miscommunication, as Sarah showed up at the other shuttle stop, then, missing us, drove to the local airport on the off chance we'd arrived there. When I arrived and found no one waiting, I called her house, where her precocious seven-year-old told me (with no apparent irony) that neither of his parents were home and his mother had gone to the airport (of course, he didn't say which one) to pick up "someone called Rosalyn." Luckily, Sarah got the message I left with Jake detailing our location, and she arrived shortly thereafter to pick us up. Andrew and I spent a nice day and a half with the Wells family--I enjoyed shopping with Sarah, and Andrew enjoyed playing with his cousins (and more particularly with their unfamiliar toys). Unlike our previous tryst with the Wells cousins, this time Andrew didn't make his three-year-old cousin Katie cry when he played with her toys or otherwise intruded on her territory--presumably because she's had the last six months to get used to her little sister, Lydia, doing the same.

Thursday morning Andrew and I flew from St. George to Salt Lake (a nice luxury courtesy of my parents, after discovering that a one-way car rental cost almost as much as a one-way plane ticket), where my parents met us at the airport and we returned to Provo, exhausted but pleased to arrive (finally) at our new home. However, our stay was destined to be short--as of this writing (Sunday evening) we've been in Park City for over twenty-four hours, as part of my parents annual vacation (pilgrimage?) to the town. But this gets us ahead of our story.

Meanwhile, let us not forget the hero of this adventure (who appears to have mostly vanished from this narrative--mostly because, from our vantage point, he had, as he has stayed in State College to finish up his degree). On Thursday, Dan, after having put in herculean hours for the last couple of weeks, submitted his dissertation to his committee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (And yes, it deserves all the exclamation points. Given the arduous task of moving his family cross country and finishing the dissertation despite some recalcitrant experiments is a task little short of heroic). He defends his dissertation in a week and a half--if you see him, please wish him luck! We certainly send our best wishes.

Saturday morning, Robert and Trisha Eves sailed into Provo with our Penske truck. Robert admired Dan and Adam's neat packing job--the load hadn't shifted an inch despite the thousands of miles it had traversed. While Trisha watched Andrew, the rest of us, with the invaluable help of my brother-in-law Samuel, unloaded the entire contents of the truck into the basement. Some of the boxes were sorted (if I was available to give directions, which often I wasn't), but the rest of them were stacked wherever there was room in the basement. As soon as I return from Park City I have the unenviable task of unpacking everything we need and finding places to store the rest. However, I'm trying not to think about that too hard. I do know, however, that I am heartily sick of moving and don't look forward to doing this again in a year or two's time!

And so here we are, transplanted but whole. Being shifted through all these new places in such a short time has been a little challenging for Andrew--particularly as my parent's house is clearly not Andrew proof! It's a little exhausting to try and track his whirlwind progress through the house (he's especially delighted with the two sets of stairs, since our old apartment had no such amenities) and prevent him from dropping something he shouldn't have, pulling toilet paper from the roll, or generally getting into stuff he shouldn't. He also discovered the potty just before we left for Park City, and insisted on sitting on it repeatedly (or else he treated us to a serious fit). I even caught him trying to sit on it himself--a process that doubtless would have ended disastrously if I hadn't caught him in time, as it mainly involved swinging one leg over the open lid (and would probably have led to him putting his entire leg *in* the potty). The suite at the Marriot resort in Park City has been a little less challenging, if only because there isn't as much stuff. But Andrew has still managed to cause his fair share of trouble. Within twenty-minutes of our arrival, he had managed to spill a tupperware container with cooking oil all over himself and all over the couch. Luckily, the couch covering proved washable.

And on this inspiringly mundane note, we leave you, gentle readers, for yet another week.