PhD - Piled Higher and Deeper

I'm tired of moving. 

Every muscle in my body hurts, including my finger and toe muscles.

Even my boxes are tired of moving (our 4th move in 6 years).

We missed Thanksgiving (but celebrated earlier in the week thank Goodness).

We missed Papa Bear's birthday, which was yesterday, a day in which we spent the last few ounces of strength we had left putting the last load into storage and packing up the cats and our Hawaii gear and hitting the road about 60 hours behind our scheduled leave date.

We filled THREE storage units.

THREE.

I bet there is nobody else in this country {and maybe even the world} who currently has, in storage, an ATV, disc tiller, drag harrow, 200' of electric poultry netting AND a chicken coop hoop house.

{Note to self: next time, sell the chicken coop before moving.}

How, exactly, does one pack up and leave the mainland with a house and garages and barn full of stuff, a herd of six alpacas, a dozen laying hens, and three house cats?

I'll tell you one thing, it's not easy or for the faint of heart.  By the end of moving, we both feel like we've been in a prizefight and lost. I've smashed fingers, twisted ankles, strained back muscles and suffered through three weeks of insomnia and a ball of stress in my chest that made eating even my favorite foods slightly nauseating. 

Kind of reminds me of being pregnant come to think of it.

{No, I'm not.}

As Tim Ferriss writes in his book the Four Hour Work Week, Dreamlining includes dreaming big enough dreams that the dream can pull you through all of the annoying and challenging obstacles.

We had plenty of those.

In addition to those three storage units full of our crap belongings, we now have animals spread all over the country, from La Crosse and Ontario, WI to Lester Prairie, MN to Sheridan, WY, not to mention our 1971 Airstream Trailer parked at a friend's farm near Houston, MN.

I will be writing more about the specifics of the move (alpacas, chickens, cats, vehicles, stuff) in more detail over the next couple of weeks.

But first, I must catch up on some much-needed sleep.  And get a massage.  And eat.  And sleep.

Good-bye, Little Farm.

Hello Hawaii.