Being Unemployed is Bad for the Finances

Well, the move is complete and the real work is beginning. The Fincher's boxes are unpacked and the work of putting together a home begins. Having only ever rented an essentially "ready to go" home, the thought of installing fans, window treatments and shower curtains never occurred to me until we spent our first couple weeks in our front room watching TV while squinting against the glare of the setting sun. However, it's not as simple as slapping up a few of those thin metal curtain rods with whatever hunk of fabric blocks the light, this is our home and suddenly these little decisions become increasingly weighty. Thus why we've been here nearly a month and have only now decided on curtain rods that fit our vision!

Speaking of the sun, we LOVE it (nice segue, right?). Until the recent heat wave (which, by the way, makes me feel very tricked! I thought NorCal was supposed to be a cool breezy 70 degrees all summer; what gives?) its been an absolute treat to just sit out in our reasonably sized back yard and play with the hose or throw rocks into the baby pool. The dogs have adjusted to life in California and embraced their "inner hunter". A pair of big blue birds (with big scary beaks, have I mentioned that I really am not a bird person?) had a nest in one of our trees and last week their fledglings set out into the big world of our backyard. The next several days were spent enduring the harsh squawks of those birds as they attempted to protect their babies from our vicious Golden Retriever who I caught tossing them around the yard (gently, mind you, she has a retriever mouth). Suffice it to say the squawking has ceased but since I found no sad little bird bodies, I assume they found their wings and made it to a safer place.

Our eldest baby bird has also taken quite a leap (though I fear not to safer territory) into his 2's! It's near impossible to remember Noah as tiny as my sweet Rowan, where has the time gone? Its not so terrible thus far (its been, officially, one whole day!), but he can throw quite the impressive tantrum. That ability, combined with the fact that about 98% of his world is defined, in his language, as "DOH" and "ish" (yeah, he's not so much with the words), we can have some pretty frustrating exchanges in the Fincher house. Fortunately for little Noah, his mommy speaks "Noah-ese" fluently (and maybe that's part of the delay).

I imagine by now, the reader is wondering when I'll get to the title topic: my lack of employment. I suppose that technically I am still employed with the US Army until midnight June 23, so I can't be called "unemployed" yet. However, I am quickly realizing that in addition to not bringing in any cash I have oodles more time to spend. At the moment I've blamed the holes in my pockets on the fact that its a new home (our home) and there's an upcoming vacation that we simply must have the right wardrobe for. We're getting into dangerous territory here! That being said, I am really enjoying the time to get settled and really enjoy my kids without the stresses of my job constantly interfering. (Warning: another BUT is on the way) But, I have realized in a very short time not working that I really do enjoy working. I enjoy the adult interaction on technical subjects and enjoy thinking about something outside the realm of home. It adds a little extra spice to my life. Aside from that, I've never been one to take advantage of a "sugar daddy"... well, maybe just this once, for a few months!

A Blizzard in May... the move Cross-Country Continues

Here's part two of the journey. Not nearly so dramatic and emotionally evocative but still sull of surprises . There was a lot more laughter and enjoyment on our part between Denver and San Francisco.

As we set out Saturday morning, two dogs, two adults and a little baby in a van stressing the bounds of it suspension, our spirits were high. We ascended the Rockies and saw some of the most beautiful sights I believe we will ever see. The mountains were, to be a walking cliche, breathtaking. I don't even know how to describe it otherwise. It was a fantastic drive! We saw some snow, but the temperature was a balmy 60 degrees and very pleasant. I enjoy the focus required to drive in mountains, although it does make my close examination of the scenery a bit more daring!

As we set out to enter the longest stretch of unserviced highway, we decided to fill up the gas tank to ensure that we didn't have any issue over the 106 mile stretch of nothing. Low and behold, Jeremy turns the key after the fill up... and the battery is dead. Since nothing stops the Finchers and since we always make the best of things, Rowan decided to have an earth-shattering, clothes- destroying bowel movement to make the best of the delay. Why just sit around in the hot van when you can fully experience a truck stop bathroom changing table?

The unserviced highway on I-70 turned out to be a busy thoroughfare compared to the desolate road we would travel on Sunday. As we set out onto the 2 lane road in Utah it began to rain, then the rain turned to sleet, which, soon, turned to snow. And when I say snow, I don't mean a flurry, I mean a full on, you better drive 25 mph (and that's slow for a northern Ohio native), snow. I proceeded to drive about 6 hours through Utah and Nevada in an all out blizzard! When we stopped for lunch, I in my capris and Jeremy in his crocs with no socks, my internal thermostat was VERY confused. What kind of place allows snow in May, almost June? I had mocked Jeremy's travel emergency kit which included space man thermal blankets (but incidentally, no jumper cables or fix a flat) but had we broken down, you wouldn't have been able to pry those shiny silver insulators away from me!

At the end of Sunday, we arrived at our new home in Newark California, looking forward to living the next six days with 2 camp chairs and a cardboard box for furniture. A part of me wishes we still had only that one cardboard box, instead of some 160 boxes scattered around the house.

Now, another week later, the move is almost complete, only a few more boxes to empty and a new routine to establish in sunny California.

Moving Cross Country with Two... wait, one?, no, Two Dogs.

Since the journey from Kansas to California turned out to be so eventful, I decided to blog this baby in several parts.

We actually set out on time after my final appointment at AG on Fort Leavenworth (which was totally unexpected, the Army defines the "hurry up and wait" mentality). I was teary as I said that final good-bye to all the people I'd worked with over the last three years. Maybe I was also a little teary anticipating the 1800 mile drive in a van packed to the hilt, who knows?

The drive across Kansas that Thursday was uneventful and we pulled in to the La Quinta Inn by the Denver airport late in the evening. After a really awful steak from the Outback (that Jeremy, my white knight, traded me for) we had a decent night sleep, thanks to the sound machine that blocked all the weird hotel noises that made our dogs woof and growl. Friday morning started without incident until I asked Jeremy to take the dogs out to the giant field (we didn't know truly how giant at this point) behind our hotel for a game of fetch before another 9 hours in the car. I had no sooner climbed out of the the shower than I got a phone call from Jeremy (7:46am, exactly). He said, " I need you, asap"! I threw on clothes and ran out barefoot to fine him leashing Bentley back up, tossing me the leash and saying, "Nessa took off, I need to catch her". Our wimp of a dog had been terrified by a garbage truck picking up a dumpster.

Bentley and I jogged back into the hotel and I finished getting dressed, strapped Rowan in the Baby Bjorn and the three of us headed back out to help with the search. After about an hour of traipsing through the old sunflower field wrought with pricklers (which latched onto Bentley's feet and my clothes and skin), we re-grouped, still without our dumb blonde dog. Jeremy kept up the search and I returned to the hotel to give Bentley's pads a break and start the process of putting out the word that our dog was missing.

Amidst my recurring tears, I called Home Again who faxed a lost poster to all the animal organizations in a 20 mile radius and posted a Craig's List ad. Jeremy returned and we decided visit to the nearby farms to get people on the look-out and cruise the highway looking for her sad little body (figured, hey, better to confirm the worst than just to FEAR it). After she'd been missing for about 3 hours I felt utterly hopeless. The pessimist in me had decided that we simply weren't going to find our Nessa. I felt that we had failed her; I was finally experiencing that panic that pet owners feel when their beloved friends go missing. We committed to caring for her and should have kept her safe, but instead, she was, for all I knew, wandering the city of Denver alone and scared and, as Nessa always is, hungry.

Although I was feeling largely negative and sad, there were bright points of hope that kept springing up. Jeremy was dedicated to doing all the he could to find her. He made and printed posters and distributed them to all the near-by hotels and businesses and spent nearly 8 hours that day walking that enormous field. A dear woman who happened to be applying for a job that day, saw our poster and called me and committed to joining the search by hanging posters in her near-by neighborhood and offering to keep Nessa when she was found if we had been forced to continue our journey without her. My wonderful friends, thousands of miles East put out their feelers and posted pictures of adorable, stupid Nessa on Facebook. Everywhere I looked, people were encouraging us, helping however they could, and being generally kind.

Jeremy embarked on one more walk-thru before darkness fell while Rowan, Bentley and I sat in the hotel room, waiting on a call from SOMEone that Nessa had been found. My phone rang Jeremy's special ring around 6:30pm and I answered in the dejected tone that had become the day's mantra, expecting him to say he was returning for the night, empty handed. I was totally taken off guard to hear, "We're a two dog family again, hon!"! Apparently Nessa had holed up about 3/4 mile across the field near a barn. How unlikely, we had found our needle in the haystack.