"Exactly what your father told me not to"

That was my response to the question: "What'd you get?"

The thing being referred to? The first deer I ever killed.

I had decided several months ago that I wanted to go hunting. 3 reasons for this:

1. I've become pretty close with 2 guys in my nieghborhood, both of whom hunt. A little male bonding in the woods is good.
2. I have acquired a taste for venison since we moved here.
3. I am a fan of Michael Pollan and the real food movement. We're members of our local CSA, we don't eat anything that has over 5 ingredients listed on the label, and the farther we can check out of the industrial food complex the better. 

Hence, going deer hunting makes sense to me. It's another Southern experience to write about.

Move story, Part 2

We got up pretty early to eat breakfast, clean up the room from the pets, and tried to hit the road before 8 to get through the nightmare traffic that is Atlanta, GA. And it all went reasonably according to plan. Before we hit it, I took Domino out for a walk where I ran into a very spry 83 y/o man walking his bichon frise. We had a nice chat, and he told me great things about the place we were going. Considering I hadn't visited Auburn yet, I was nervous. The man's easy going nature and good words made we feel a lot better about our future home.

We hit the road and enjoyed a nearly traffic free drive all the way to the outskirts of Atlanta where the road widened and traffic volume got heavy. We were never stopped dead in our tracks, nor were we slowed down all that much, but I stuck to 1 lane for the most part. Like most metro areas, Atlanta has highway signs giving up to date traffic info and travel times which was helpful because our original plan was straight down I-85 through the heart of Atlanta. The signs said heavy delays, so the beltway became our route.

On the southern side of Atlanta, we stopped for lunch and got ready for the final push. At lunch, we ended up speaking to another nice stranger who asked if I was a cyclist (I was wearing my Fat Cyclist t-shirt). He then went on to start telling us about the bike trail that goes from Atlanta all the way to Birmingham. In the back of my mind, I started planning a fall weekend cycling/camping getaway.

Back on the road, we cruised over the state line and arrived in our new home state. 30 miles more down the road and we hit Opelika (pronounced Opa-like-uh), Auburn's sister-town. Then we got off at our exit and Tina led the way through the center of town. It was something, let me tell you, driving a 26' truck through the center of town along the edge of the university until we hit Toomer's Corner, the exact center of town where a big orange paw print is painted on the intersection. A couple more turns onto the beltway of Auburn where I sub-division is located, down the access road, and into out new little neighborhood where we pulled up to our new house (pics soon).

The LL was (to my surprise) waiting for us, and in we walked to the place we (our family) would spending the next year of our lives.

T minus 1 week and counting

Yowzer. It's really here. I cannot believe it. It's really here.

This is the last week I am here at the office and I have a boatload of stuff to get ready before we ship out. Additionally, people are really starting to demand our time and attention, and we still have a lot of packing to do (read, all packing because we haven't done any yet. Why are waiting? I don't know.)

I also am starting to feel the absolute reality of things. The last time I visited my grandfather in Jersey was a week and a half ago. When we left I told him we would see him again at Christmas. I saw both doubt and hope in his eyes; hope that he would make it to Christmas, and doubt that he would. I am making another trip to see him tomorrow after work for what I hope won't be the last time I see him.

We saw my parents for the last time before we move this past weekend. That was a little tough. When we were leaving my mother, crying and putting on a brave face, said "This is nothing. We lived in Singapore and you were here." I asked, "So, why are you crying?" She replied, "Because your father is crying." To which he replied, "No I'm not. It's fricking hot out here. I am sweating!"

This is crunch time. This is the time to make lists, execute, cross it off and get shit done. I hope I don't falter on anything too major.