Set the date.

I guess I sort of had the feeling that I wasn't really going to leave for Florida. It's one of those "don't believe it unless you see it" type deals, except this one is "don't believe it until you get in the car and start driving to it" deals.

Very conveniently the hauling company is planning on picking little Rowan up the morning of September 18th. Thank goodness we're not leaving before then. I made a point to request that we did not leave until after the 15th of September-- why, because we have a horse show, of course. I thought I was playing my lucky cards right until I realized that if Rowan is leaving on the 18th I must leave on the 15th so that I can be there to meet him upon arrival. I'm not sure what's worse, the fact that I am driving to Florida or the fact that I have to drive through Ohio to get to Florida. Hmm...

Besides that, what comes with moving is the feeling of putting ducks in rows and eggs in baskets. It feels like a whole lot of paperwork and pushing things around my room until they're in some coherent order. After all, who knows who will be living in my room while I'm galavanting about down south.

I suppose the whole process would be much more orderly if I hadn't decided that it's time for me to begin creating my South Africa scrapbook. Here I am, more than a year later, after an entire summer of (essentially) sitting around simply to find that my room has been converted to a mini-South Africa shrine, with the contents of the lime green laundry basket finally exploding in memories across my floor. I'm only on page three, that means only about 390 more photos to go.