Moving Stories & the Absurdity of Grace.

Hello, Friends! 

So, remember a few weeks ago, we left Houston bound for our Florida home once again?

Well, we made it. 

We closed on a townhouse in a town we had only ever been to a handful of times, 

starting about 6 weeks ago. Seriously.

We were sold on this cutesy little coastal town and these sunsets:

I mean.

Talk about 'fire in the sky'. 

We are absolutely loving our new town. It is small (population of about 35k), 

and the Main Street ends at the marina. It definitely suits us. 

The Lord is so good to us in the most ridiculous ways. Listen. We have made near 'bout every financial, marital, and life mistake you can think of and the God who painted that sunset let us move here and be salt and light in a place with this SALT AND LIGHT! 

It's the absurdity of grace. 

Moving to this dream-like little community comes with some real 

first world problems and stories.

Actually, it's me.

I come to this little community with first world problems and stories. 

Bless these people. I hope they are ready for this crew.

We bought this place with the intention of getting some updates taken care of as soon as possible. 

It's definitely "outdated" by all home-fashion-decor-whatever-standards. This is so foreign to me. 

I mean, I go in beautifully decorated homes and I love it. I appreciate the work it takes to do it.

I admire it and I'm proud of the owners for making a house a home. 

But, I don't want to do it. I want it done. I just don't want to do it, 

nor do I want to spend what it takes to do the extra things. 

Makes sense, right? *I'm shaking my head at myself*

So, first things to be done are popcorn ceiling removal and painting every single square inch of this place. And I mean every square inch. I don't care to have popcorn ceilings removed, but they had to be painted anyway, so down with the popcorn! We decided to "rough it" on air mattresses until we got this part done. We knew it would be much easier with out the furniture. 

Blessing #EleventyFive is that Spouse's relocation package includes up to 

sixty days of storage for our belongings. 

This is amazing. 

Not too bad, right?

Well, in true Melissa fashion, there was a mishap. The second night of sleeping on the air mattress, somewhere around the midnight hour, Spouse turned over to hear and FEEL "SSSSSSHHHHH" right in the face. I'm guessing I over-inflated our bed? Anyway, the air blowing out of the hole was causing the pup to lose his furry freakin' mind. He was going bazooka bat crazy and 

Spouse and I were cracking up. 

The bed was deflating under us and our tortilla-flat pillows and 

we were cackling uncontrollably. I even snorted. 

Also, girls with ample birthing hips are not made for sleeping on hard floors, kids. 

That mattress was promptly replaced.

Spouse spent last weekend prepping walls and doing as much as he could possibly get done in the house before painters showed up on Tuesday. He also was working as fast as he could, since he had to leave town last week. Awesome. 

So, on Tuesday, when the popcorn was being removed and 

our house looked like this, he never saw it:

Our house looked like a scene from Dexter. Think less blood and more paint and drywall. Also, it smelled like an ashtray. The previous owners smoked, and although the house had been thoroughly rid of the smoke smell, scraping that ceiling down just aggravated it. Yuckafornia.

In the midst of all this crazy, my girls had their first day of homeschool classes.

They handled the chaos like pros. Only Jesus.

Let me explain this. I had to be out of the house each day, all day last week while this work was being done. And, I had to take my dog. It's boiling hot out. There's only so much I can do all day. A friend let me come hang out at her house and do my laundry one day (another blessing from the Lord!). 

I picked the girls up from school that first day and we walked in to this mess:

This was nutty. My kids were talking to me but I couldn't hear them.
All I was hearing was the voice in my head:
My Spouse is in Denver and going to sleep in a comfy bed and we are supposed to sleep in this house!? We can't even breath deeply in here! There is no freakin' way. I'm not wanting to spend a lot of money. Well,  get over it. Get out of here. Just go.

Plus, Spouse was feeling guilty so he insisted on it. *Grin*
We took ourselves down to the awesome hotel at the marina 2 miles
down from my house that has pet-friendly rooms and this right here:

Boom. Two nights right here, kids.

I can't believe I get to live here and I'm not even 65! 

So freakin' cool!

Oh. Check this out. Read this story and stay with me. 

I couldn't get my key to work in my mailbox. My cool neighbor came to help me and he couldn't get it to work, either. The girls and I drove to the post office (which my Spouse thinks should be disband all together) to see if they could help me. 

While waiting in the long line, I heard patrons call the employees by their first names. 

"So good to see you, Frank! Thanks, Jim!" Seriously. 

I'm all giddy cause the town-folk are on a first-name basis with their postal crew!? What!? 

(Our mail person at our other house is less than desirable.) 

Anyway, I watched Frank help two people at a time to keep one guy from having to wait in line unnecessarily. So efficient! Not at all typical of any post office I've ever been in. 

Sorry. No offense, y'all. 

So, this lady came out and said, "Does anybody need help with forwarding or pick up 

or anything that is NOT mailing a package?" Hey! Yes! That's me! I walked up, 

tell her I just moved and showed her my key to my box I can't get in. 

She asked for my address and said she'd be right back. 

When she emerged from the back, she said, "Can you go home?"

I'm confused.

"Yes. I can go home. But, then what?"

Are y'all ready for this?

"I'll meet you over there."

"What?! You're gonna go to my house?"

"Yah, I'll meet you over there in a few minutes. I'll go straight there."

Oh. My.

Do you know what this means!?

People who live at the beach are happy people! 

These are happy, helpful people and I LOVE THEM ALL!

She came to my house in 99° heat with her spray lubricant and some tools and dern if she didn't get my mailbox working properly and retrieved the Big Sister's Apologia Science book! 

Yay for the Coastal Postal Service!

Such absurd grace, I tell you!

Amazing, right?!

Now this. This right here is stressing my junk out.

I want my kitchen to look nice and I want it to be inexpensive. 

Not cheap. Just inexpensive. 

And I don't want it to take too long, either. 

I don't have the attention span to drag this jazz out too long.

And, there's the issue of my not caring enough about it.

My struggle is that I'm trying to be forward-thinking and consider re-sale value and 

long-term cost effectiveness. While being a good steward, I also want to be eternally 

minded and guard against the excess trap, ya know?

So difficult.

So, there's a few scenes from our grace-filled past two weeks.

Popcorn is removed. Rooms are painted. Remodeling bids are in progress.

My Spouse has painted so much since flying back in to town late Friday night. This dude works.

I'm watching him roll walls this very second while parked in a camping chair writing these words. 

He is grace.

I've scheduled the movers to deliver on Tuesday, bless their souls.

You know what y'all should do?! Follow us on Instagram @Spouseisms for more goodness.

You know what else you should do? Tell me your stories of absurd grace?! I know you have some!

Love!
Melissa