Moving!

I have moved again!  This may be the last time... I hope it is, but I can't say anymore that I'm not moving again.  Last time I said it, it bit me in the ...  well, you know where.

So, since I haven't written in a while, and I told you that this would be hit or miss, I figured I better write something!

I have now moved 29 times in my life time.  My youngest sister says I have a PhD in moving!  I believe it.  This last move was to North Little Rock, Arkansas. Why North Little Rock?  We'll get there; it is sort of a long story. And it does need to be written down as I know it.  I may not have all the facts and figures, but here goes...

My parents met in high school, but didn't actually get together until after high school. Both families were in the same social circles in Memphis, Tennessee and my maternal grandmother knew my paternal grandfather from school.  So the summer after high school, my dad had mononucleosis and my mother would go over to his house and keep him company.  They got married that December.  

My dad's college plans fell through and he joined the Army.  I was born a year and a half later at Millington. I am the oldest of four. We then moved to North Carolina. My dad wound up as a navigator in helicopters and went to Korea. My sister was born in Memphis.  Dad would be home for a little while and then go back.  My brother was born in Georgia. My dad again went overseas, to Germany.  Mom and he were not getting along and she went to serve him papers in Germany.  She came back pregnant with my youngest sister.  She was born in Memphis. My dad got out and my parents divorced.  He went to college in California, but not before he was given full custody of the three of us.  This was back in 1961-62.  It was unheard of for men to get full custody at that time, unless something else was going on.  We'll never know for sure, but most likely my grandmother had a lot to do with how that was played.

So, what happened to the youngest one?  She was adopted by some cousins that couldn’t have children of their own…

So we were whisked off to California with my grandmother and my dad caring for us.  That was interesting.  Shortly after President Kennedy was assassinated, we children were shipped off to live with an aunt and uncle in Indiana.  They had 2 boys, our cousins, and we lived with them for about a year.  Then my uncle went to Vietnam, my mom got re-married and our lives once again changed.  We went to live with my mom and step-father, Gerry in Mississippi.  Greatest man ever.  He raised us from that point on, as if we were his own kids.  We did ask about our youngest sibling over the years, but were given the information that she was okay and no, we couldn’t go see her.

So, you would think our moving might have settled down then, but no, it did not.  Gerry was an aeronautical engineer, same as our dad, and he started off with GE, then was hired by Boeing. So, we moved again, 2 more times.  The last move was to Seattle.  We had been living in the Southwest, which I dearly loved, beautiful weather all the time.  Then moving to Seattle, where the skies are GRAY and it misted/rained all the time.  I, by now, was a teenager.  I hated it… oh, man, did I hate it.  And of course, we know how teenagers over dramatize everything and feel like they know everything.  My dad got remarried that year and I left one home for another.  One more move!  And the grass was greener for a long time, I thought.  We did move from Colorado back to California for my last year of high school.  I vowed I would NOT do that to my kids! 

I stayed in California the longest… about 8 years.  However, I did have several addresses while there.  There was always someplace cheaper to live!  A better bargain, lower rent, lower utilities.  Sometimes roommates, sometimes not.  

But Los Angeles, I felt, was not a great place to raise kids, so I moved away… back to Seattle.

Met my hubbie, moved to Portland.  He got transferred to Seattle.  We bought a business in North Central Washington and moved.  Business went belly up, we moved to Portland.  Found a better job in Seattle, moved again. 

All this time, hubby was in the Army reserves.  He finally took a class to update some of his electronic skills and was hired as a contractor working with the Army.  We moved to Korea.  Desert Storm happened, we moved back to the Southwest.

He sold Real Estate for awhile, then got back into the Contracting business.  We went to Virginia.  He went to Korea again.  We went back to the Southwest.  My oldest graduated from high school, three years at same school, with one in the middle in Virgina. His contract was bid on by another company and we went to Panama.   Panama Canal treaty was over in 1999, we moved back to the Southwest.  My youngest graduated from high school after 3 years in same school.  Kept that promise!

Another contract, another move to Korea, this time for 3 years.

Home again to the Southwest.  My stepfather passed away early in 2010.  My brother passed away this last summer.

For the last seven years (maybe more?), we had been in touch with my youngest sister.  Our husbands liked each other.  An opportunity arose and we grabbed it!  So, I am now actually living across the street from my youngest sister.  A new adventure begins!  And it only took me 29 moves to get here!

So, here are a few more facts:  I have lived in 15 states, and 2 countries!

'69...'71... Well, I do know that it was a Chevy Nova!!!

My first car was a Chevy Nova, gold, 4 door.  I bought it in College... I think my parents actually paid for it, though.  I never worked in high school, and really didn't that much at first in College, either.

So, I do know that we spent $500 on it.  And that it was a 'company car' before I had it.  I think it probably had a lot of miles on it, due to that designation.  And it was a bench seat in the front and had 4 doors.  The gold was probably the ugliest gold out there, even when clean! 

But, hey, it was transportation and I could fit all my friends in it, pretty easy.  It did have seat belts.  Whether we used them or not, I don't recall.  I'm pretty sure I used mine.  I'm very good that way. Of course, back then, you weren't pulled over for NOT wearing them, either.

I had it through at least 2 apartments... the roommates and I were always finding someplace cheaper to live, in order to stretch our dollars out as far as possible.  It went through many parties and trips to the beach as I lived in Southern California at the time.  Beach time was very important.  And you still could find a parking space on the street by the beach!  Now, those spaces are at a premium, I understand.

I remember driving it, a friend, and a six-pack up to Big Sur for one of the infamous camping trips planned by the frat.  I think that was the first time I really cranked it up and drove faster than the speed limit.  What a hoot!   I wasn't drinking, my friend was!!  I was still a little nervous and kept checking the rear view mirror for flashing lights!!  We arrived well after dark and had to turn off the lights to find the camp site.  That was fun.

It also carried a bunch of us up to Big Bear for the annual Snow Trips in December.  Living in Southern California meant that you had to drive somewhere to play in the snow.  The frat had planned these parties forever in December after the semester was over. It was a great way to blow off steam after finals and get ready for the holidays.  Snow Trip punch and the Pajama party.  Don't need to say much else about that!

In fact, that car got me home many a time after a party. I think it had a homing device, I swear.  I've told my girls this, too.  I have no idea, how in those days, any of us ever got home without an accident.  We all left parties after having had too much to drink.  And yet, none of the group that I hung out with, and it was a large group, ever had anything go wrong... We must have had guardian angels, every one of us.  I shudder at the thought now.

The demise of the Chevy came when I lent it to my then-current boyfriend, who didn't really care about other people's possessions, and he rear-ended someone.  The insurance company declared it totaled and that was that.  I was so mad at him.  Going through all of that taught me a big lesson on loaning things out, financial responsibility and made me grow up a little more.  I also realized that having insurance on your car was the most valuable thing ever.  The people he hit ended up suing me (as the owner) for some huge amount, and the insurance company handled the whole thing.  I never went to court.  Whew!

Fortunately, I did have a job at that time that paid well and after a month or two, was able to purchase my favorite car of all time.  It was a bright red, one-owner, '74 VW superBeetle.  And I just loved that car!