Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Dear Mallory,

I really will do anything for my friends. Sometimes that sentiment is not reciprocated or recognized or it's taken for granted, and I leave feeling dejected and kind of lonely. This weekend, though, I left feeling refreshed and so grateful and really pleased knowing you really are one of my best friends. Thank you so, so much for welcoming me into your domain; your home, your office, Harry's playground. That little boy of yours is every bit as wonderful as you portray him to be. I cannot get over how happy and smart and curious he is; thank you for letting me love on him a bit. I even enjoyed chatting with Jon [I get a bit nervous around men, so it's rare that this happens]! He is absolutely hilarious; you guys are a perfect balance of and for each other.

And you! You're a great cook. I was seriously impressed. You'll have to share your recipe for those roasted almonds and that pizza crust. Also, there are stripes all over your house. Did you know that? It made me so happy to see that your love of stripes doesn't discriminate; everything in stripes! Seriously, though, thanks for just chatting with me and sharing and listening and hanging out. I think we both needed a girls weekend to decompress. And, yes, we did stay up late, even for me. But it's necessary sometimes! You just start talking and you're eating popcorn and then it's 11:30P and you can't stop yawning and you're shocked when you check the time.

I'm so glad I Facebook messaged you 4 years ago. You are a true bosom buddy. ...actually. I think it was exactly four years ago that I messaged you! Weird.

And also, I would make the drive again! It wasn't that bad. I took a very direct route, which required driving on a bunch of country highways, so I saw a lot of Southern country [is that redundant?].

Your refreshed friend,
Amy

A Visit

Dear friend,

I absolutely must start this letter with a giant THANK YOU. Thank you for driving all the way down here and all the way back in one weekend. Thank you for talking to me about everything. Thank you for entertaining me. Thank you for loving my kid like you did. Thank you for helping. Pretty much, thanks for being such an amazing Anne Shirley. I feel so lucky dude.

Amy checking out the houses Katrina ravaged.

Readers, Amy drove down to the Mississippi Gulf Coast to visit us this weekend, and it was fantastic. We spent a lot of time in pajamas and we made cookies. We enjoyed beautiful weather (at least I thought so, Amy might have been over the rain) and stayed up late (again, at least I thought so). It was fantastic.

I'm going to drop a bomb that you, Amy, already know, but a lot of other people don't seem to recognize? I'm not big on visitors. Don't get me wrong. I love visiting. I so appreciate when people make the trip to see us. I appreciate the crap out of that. But I'm one for having my schedule and my space and my life... and visitors change that.

(If you've ever come to visit me, don't take it personally. I love, love, love seeing you all. I'm just a little introverted, and if you are introverted, you'll get it. And if you're not, just think of how you feel about visitors, and flip it. That's how I feel.)

But this weekend was refreshing. It was so nice to have someone who not only relates to me in such a big way, but understands me. Like, really gets me. And totally understands the whole "I want to see people/be with people/not be lonely... but I also don't." deal. You get it Amy. So thank you.

Also, can I just say, Harry freaking loved you. Guys, this kid was a little girl crazy all weekend. He laughed and giggled and smiled like a school girl. He gave Amy so many kisses and some ridiculous hugs. He was super excited to play with her, and just hang out. So Amy, thanks for loving on my kid. I'm sure he's needing some "not Mama" people around to give him some attention.

I don't even have questions, just so much thanks. (So many thanks?) How was the drive? Honestly.

Capital X's and O's for you today,
Mallory

Prehistoric bugs and new spaces.

Mallory.

You twisted your ankle and hiked out of Yellowstone?! Are you kidding me? I mean, how else were you supposed to get out of there, I know, I know. But you are officially a badass. I'm sure that wasn't a comfortable hike. There are rocks waiting to sprain your ankle further and holes to overlook and maybe creeks to walk through [I don't know, were there?].

Yellowstone was totally magical. I told everyone we were doing the move as a road trip because we weren't sure we would ever be back, but that's a crock of crap. We'll definitely return. I want to experience the magic of that place with our kids. And no dogs. So that there can be hiking and exploring and no worries of Chuck being too loud as she talks to her fellow campers.

To answer your last question first, there are cockroaches in Arkansas! How did no one warn me of this terrifying fact?! Due to the nature of our apartment, some of the windows/doors don't have screens and the other day a cockroach flew into our family room. And I thought it was a cicada. So I remained calm. But then Aaron was like, "Don't leave the doors open, I had to kill another cockroach." And not wanting to believe him, I thought to myself, "It was a cicada. Gosh, boys are so dramatic." But then! Last night! I let the dogs outside for their final bathroom break of the day and scurrying around in my three seasons room were multiple cockroaches! And while squealing [quietly, so as not to alert the neighbors to my freak out and my pajamas] and hopping around with my eyes closed, I knocked one of Aaron's shoes over and another cockroach came crawling out! Why are there cockroaches?! Like, what is their purpose?! How did they get here?! Why can't they just go away?!

Also, for the record, I realize cicadas and cockroaches look nothing alike. I have no idea why my brain went straight to cicada while looking at an overlarge black beetle-type thing. Survival mode?

So. Aside from bugs that can live through the apocalypse, things are going just peachy. We're unpacking and decorating and throwing away unnecessary items and donating unnecessary items and purchasing necessary items and it's starting to feel like home. Mallory! There's a Container Store here! Did you know that? I'm sure you did. It's like my mecca. I'm only allowed to make a pilgrimage when the clutter in my home is threatening to make a mess of my sanity. The Container Store is better than Ikea. It's even better than Target! Yes! I said it! All kidding aside, I was so overwhelmed as we were walking through that we left the store with one thing we discussed needing and a few things we "didn't know" we needed [*ahem* a lucite Bodum silverware container that I am now using to store my cookie cutters because for some reason peoples' default gift for me are cookie cutters?]... It was awesome.

I'll show you better photos of the place soon, I promise. But I agree, you're probably going to have to visit. This place is the bomb. For instance, I'm sitting on my balcony now, overlooking the neighbors jungle/yard, and daydreaming of additional purchases we need to make to declutter...

But we're just happy we're home.

Amy

A Story About Yellowstone and WELCOME BACK!

Dude. I mean Dear Amy,

I don't even know how to follow your post. Those pictures. Amazing. I'm so jealous. So jealous that my moves consist of nothing but dirty restrooms at dirty rest stops and gas stations that probably don't have the internet and lots and lots of tumble weeds.

I'm seriously impressed at everything you saw. I never did much vacationing as a kid, neither did Jon. So we always talk about how we want to take our kids on so many vacations. To special places like London and Disney World, but especially to the natural beauty we hold in our own backyard. (Yes, I just called the entire United States my backyard. I live on the Gulf of Mexico, and my house faces south (sure) so the entire US is my backyard.) I want to see it all. The Grand Canyon. The California coast. Alaska. And every single spot you stopped on your trip.

How sad is it that I've only ever been to Yellowstone? Well, I've been to Mammoth Caves and Rocky Mountain National Park and lots of beautiful state and county parks too. But of all the majestic countryside you visited in a WEEK, I've been to one. ONE. American FAIL.

A few from our trip to Yellowstone back in 2007 (!!!)

Here is a quick recap on our time in Yellowstone. We drove out to Colorado and without looking at a map decided to add Yellowstone to our trip too. They were both "out west" so they had to be near each other, right? Ha. Don't laugh too hard people. We were young. BUT we got to Yellowstone just before sunset and climbed a hill and sat at the top. It was amazing. And then we realized we didn't have a camp site, so we found one just outside of the park for the night. When the sun came up, we hiked our little booties into Yellowstone, passing bison, mule deer, crazy weird birds, and bear poop (AH) along the way. Set up camp at the top of a hill, ate at the bottom of the hill, and Jon held a stick while I held the other end and peed. We had only been dating for five or six weeks at this point, so that was a big deal to me.

I twisted my ankle making the fire that night, we ate some awesome camp food and filtered our water through socks. We went to sleep and woke up a few hours later to the loudest thunder I have ever heard in my entire life. I'm not kidding. And we were freezing. We hiked out the next day (a day earlier than planned due to weather) in the cold, me with a twisted ankle, with everything strapped to our backs.

I loved every second of it. Yellowstone is just so magical, right? It's gorgeous. Unfortunately, we went before I knew what a "good picture" was so a lot of what I remember of Yellowstone's beauty is in my head, not on my crashed hard drive.

How is the job hunt going? That is the worst. I hate job hunting. I'm sorry you have to go through that again. And how is the home coming along? I'm loving the pictures. I can't wait to visit (because YES, I think I need to). How's Arkansas?

Your friend (who is much better at doing the wilderness thing now),
Mallory

I've missed you! And other things.

Dear Mallory,

I'M BAAA-AAACK! Also, I'm feeling a bit nostalgic today only because today marks the first day of the dreaded job hunt. Seriously, every time we move I'm forced to begin my career all over again. I mean, it's not like Volunteer Coordinator jobs are in high demand. Especially not in a city with the minimum amount of non profits. And especially not when I'm feeling all stubborn because it's not like I even like Volunteer Coordinating. We've talked about this before, but I'll elaborate later.

Okay. So what do you know so far? We arrived about a week and a half ago. The journey was beautiful, but we were ready for our house and our bed and the exploration of a new town. So we've been all around town. We've taken the dogs to the vet. We've purchased a mid-century dresser and refurbished it. We finally received our stuff and only one thing broke [damn you, Ikea]. Et cetera.

The trip! Let me tell you about this trip. It was incredible. If we can, we'll be doing it again sans dogs and at a different time of the year. We basically did a "highlights" version of the trip that did not involve hiking or much camping, like we had planned. Camping with dogs is, like, a total headache. The first night there was a windstorm and, after hardly any sleep, we woke up in the morning with Chuck in Aaron's sleeping bag and Hurley curled up by my face. And when I say "by" I mean right up against and with every intention of scooching onto my chest. Have you ever tried to camp with Duke? Do you have any words of advice? Because I doubt we'll ever do that again unless we receive some stellar insight.

PHOTOS!

Here we are in eastern Washington. The dogs, as expected, needed to stretch their legs every two hours or so. I use the term "dogs" loosely because Chuck needed the leg stretches way more than Hurley.

The scene of the wind storm. Also the sight of free camping because I'm charismatic and observant and noticed a gigantic "Air Force Veteran" sticker on the side of the proprietor's camper. And I wasn't embarrassed to be all, "You were in the Air Force?! We are, too!" And because there's an unwritten code of loyalty across the generations of Air Force and military vets and Aaron's a congenial guy and all of that. Free camping! As if camping isn't incredibly cheap already.

Have you ever been to Craters of the Moon before? You would love it. It's completely strange and beautiful and the camping looked otherworldly. It's 618 square miles of molten lava that has seeped up from cracks in the ground. Imagine driving through a national park that is just completely black. That's Craters of the Moon.

When you went to Yellowstone did you have the opportunity to stop in Jackson Hole? We explored for a few hours and capped off the adventure at Snake River Brewing. It's an adorable town. Very Old West.

I drove through Yellowstone, so I didn't get many photos. [Yeah. Who am I?!] But at the same time, you've been there. You can't blame me. It's beautiful. I'm rarely so in awe of something that I forget to take photos, and I would like to believe that that's what happened. Also, we planned on camping in Yellowstone but discovered most of the campgrounds had been shut down for the season already and the ones that were still opened were full up. But! It was okay! Because we stayed at a lodge sans internet or cable TV or cell phone reception and it was beautiful. Surrounded on all sides by mountains, chilly air, and really good breakfast food. Which is always important.

I want to hear more about your trip to Yellowstone! When you mentioned it, I wanted to ask you more questions but cell phone service was spotty and I was distracted by the last of the West Coast's mountains.

First off, yes. That is maybe the best photo bomb in the history of the world. I wish the woman taking the photo would have told me there was faded kid butt smack dab in the middle of the one photo we had taken of the four of us. It's completely hilarious and I'm definitely going to have it printed and framed. 

But Mallory! Shoshone National Park! Have you been there? Because... Holy cow, it's like a "hidden" gem. I had never heard of it and we ended up driving through it via scenic byway on accident and it was maybe the best accident of the trip. I was so in awe. I made Aaron drive so I could exclaim and squeal and take photos the whole way. It was incredible. I've never felt so small before.

Black Hills National Forest in Wyoming. Another stellar drive. I think, though, that I was most impressed with the first 5 minutes of the drive. The rocks were all different shades of pink with sudden angles and drops and twists and turns and then it just turned into a weird, unimpressive desert scape. But I'm not complaining. I wish we could have hiked through the first portion of the forest. I was blown away.

Are you noticing a theme here? The whole trip just had me in awe.

Mt. Rushmore. I think it was Aaron's most anticipated stop. And the rumors are true, it is both smaller and larger than expected in person. I will not downplay it, though, because I wouldn't have volunteered to go up there and carve those faces. No way! It was too high and pretty large and the detail and wow. I'm not afraid of heights, but I wouldn't have done it.

Aaron, the political guru, and Amy, the history buff. We make a good pair.

The Badlands! Okay, so I was pretty excited about Craters of the Moon and I knew Yellowstone was going to rule and then Shoshone was like this incredible bonus, but I was really looking forward to The Badlands. And then it kind of was underwhelming? I mean, don't get me wrong. The 10 minute drive through the park was breathtaking, but I expected it to be larger? And... Well. Larger. That's all. But I got a great picture of Chuck and I!

[Have you ever been? Is it larger than this? Did we miss something?]

Behold! Road warriors.

There's more. There's always more. But I've taken up enough of your time. And, I mean, how many photos is too many photos? I think I've hit my limit. Although, there are a ton of photos I didn't share with Instagram, so maybe I'll write with more? Because I know you were following along pretty closely.

I think one of the most exciting things about finally arriving home is the prospect of seeing you in October! I'm not expecting any sort of special treatment during the visit. I just want to hang out, chat, snuggle that kid of yours, and make you some cookies. Because I know how much you've been enjoying those baked delights. Yeah. I just called them delights. Even I stared at that sentence for a few minutes and was all, "Is there a better way of describing them?" My conclusion? No. There isn't.

Your well-traveled friend,

Amy

A Little Tuesday Wanderlust

Dear Amy,

Well, by now you are settled into your new home. And I am settled after a particularly busy week last week. So let's get this blogging thing going again, shall we? Loyal readers, you are fabulous for sticking around. Sorry for the lack of correspondence yesterday... and on that note, I don't think Amy or I have checked out collective email in a very long time. So if you emailed us, whoops! Sorry! I'll check that today.

All pictures from our first vacation (a road trip!) to Yellowstone.

Let's discuss road trips, shall we? Your move Miss Amy was inspiring. You traveled halfway across the country making good use of your pit stops (ha ha, who gets the pun?) along the way. For those of you who missed the pictures of Amy's road trip south, make sure to check out her Instagram feed. There are some amazing pictures of our beautiful country in that feed - and a few of her cutie pie pups too.

How amazing was it to be able to stop at some of the country's most beautiful locales on your AF mandated move? I will say, I'm a little jealous. Not only have my military moves pretty much consisted of cotton fields and dust and tumble weeds, but I also have only been to a handful of the gorgeous places you got to visit last week. Let's hope this next move for us lets us see some really beautiful spots. Or that it at least brings us closer to you.

What was your favorite road trip ever? Least favorite? Do you even enjoy road tripping? I must admit, I'm not much of a fan anymore. I used to be. Jon and I road tripped west to Colorado and Yellowstone for our very first vacation and spent a whole lot of time in that little Mustang of mine. But after living in Colorado and traveling to Michigan for major life events and holidays over the course of three years, I'm kind of over it. Although, maybe it's just because lately it seems like our road trips really just consist of getting from Point A to Point B as quickly as possible, leaving little time to admire the road along the way.

We missed you! I hope you're getting settled into your new home just swimingly. I can't wait to hear about it (and see pictures).

Your wanderlusting friend,
Mallory

Forgiving yourself.

Dear Mallory,

You're sorry? I'm sorry! In the midst of cleaning and donating and packing and selling and watching other people pack and then move our stuff, it's been a crazy week. And the week isn't done yet! It's only Tuesday! And then we're off. I realized as I started writing this that I have no idea how I'll be blogging next week. Maybe I'll pop in and post a photo or two so you know that I'm still alive? I'll be sure to include some of the gorgeous views we're sure to see on our camping adventure. I know how much you love nature and camping and hiking and all of that good stuff.

But seriously. There are two men in my house right now and they are rifling through our stuff and wrapping it in packing paper and stuffing it in boxes and I forgot just how very unreal it all is; in California we had about 8 dudes in our house and I don't remember being concerned at all.

Can we just talk about regret for a moment? I loathe regret. Regret seems to eat away at your insides and cause you panic whenever it reminds you of its presence and there's nothing you can do about it until you apologize. To yourself. Have you been able to do that? Apologizing to the person or persons who may have been involved is always good, too, but I've found that I am the hardest on myself and, therefore, in need of forgiveness. Constantly. I hope I don't sound like I'm preaching or lecturing, I just wanted you to know that I get it and I'm so sorry. Tell that bitch regret to move on out.

I'm really enjoying italics today.

Seriously. One of these movers is about 7 feet tall and he just packed away my KitchenAid and I am so tempted to tell him to just stop! because I really don't know if I'm ready to move. [I'm ready, I'm just shocked that the day is here already. Also, if you lived closer to me I would recruit you to help me clean this place because [whiny voice] I don't wanna!]

I love that you would go back to Harry's birth day. I won't say too much more here, but I find it interesting how completely different and personal each birth story is and it's always encouraging to hear that not everyone had a horrific experience. Gives us ladies who are forced to wait something to chew on [stupid ovaries].

Where would I go... Hm. Honestly? I would go back to the days of dating Aaron and I would ask him some really hard questions. Don't get me wrong, I am so completely thrilled that we ended up together--I know a lot of people's minds start to wander and wonder. We're good. I love my man. But those dating days were so trying and so "head in the clouds" simultaneously. I think we would have been so much more prepared if we had discussed those touchier life subjects without any sugarcoating--finances, religion, etc.

Some old photos from one of my film cameras! I love these multiply exposed babies.

Another thing I would change is our elopement day. I know I've mentioned this before but I'm going to repeat myself: why didn't I hire a professional photographer?! And: why didn't I ask my dad to videotape the stupid thing?! And: why did we think it would be okay if the siblings weren't there?! Okay. I'm good.

See? Regret. I've actually forgiven myself for all of these things, but those are truthfully the only two things I would change and want to revisit.

Scratch that. Maybe I would go back in time and tell 20-year old Amy to freaking major in something more practical! Art and psychology majors are where dreams go to die! Oy.

Is there anything you would travel to the future for? Or anything that Jon wants a do-over on? Hi Jon!

Futuristically yours [I don't know what that means],
Amy

Military Moves, Oy.

Dear Amy,

I'm going to apologize to you from the AF first off. I know how frustrating it can be when you feel like a pawn in a giant game of chess and someone is moving you all around, not giving you much say, until they are done with you. And since that someone is a faceless creature (probably sitting his plush, leather office chair, toupee and cigar dangling, as you pointed out) I know it's not easy to figure out who to give the dirty looks (or middle fingers). So, I'm just going to apologize for the way the military makes you feel.

Ah... clean slate. I can't decide if I love you, or hate you.

PCSing. Permanent Change of Station. It's a phenomenon civilians can't quite understand, and why should they? Why do we have to move every three years? (Side note, I haven't lived anywhere longer than 1.5 years in our AF career yet. And it looks like we'll be out of here in less than two again. I would kill for three years in one spot.) We don't know. We're just as confused. Yes, I know Jon will do the same job at our new station. Yes, I know how much it costs to move. No, I have no idea why they move us so frequently.

But we do it. And we do it often. First of all, let me tell you 500 pounds of stuff will be easy for you. Books pack a ton of weight and take up a relatively small space. Bring them. Just fine the heaviest things you own and throw them in your trunk. But honestly, with the necessities you'll need during and immediately after your move, I think you'll be surprised how quickly 500 pounds adds up.

We have never moved with a baby. I'll let you know how that goes next summer (yikes). But we have always partially moved ourselves. Rented a Uhaul and packed up the basics. It's been really nice, actually. We always have what we need. I have my computer and a desk (as I keep on working the whole time we're moving). We have a few pots and pans. We even have our own mattress. I'm not sure how feasible a Uhaul is for you guys, but you may want to consider it if you're planning on moving ANY of your own things.

I'm kind of the opposite of you on this front through. Yes, I get antsy. As soon as I find out where we're going, I check out of our current locale. I move on in my head and I'm ready to GO. Luckily I'm not the one who still has to concentrate on flying an airplane for weeks or months before we leave. But I put off the packing. Lists, oh I make a million or so lists. (On paper. I'm old school.) But I don't touch a box. I throw out a whole lot of crap. But I don't put any in boxes. Until about a week out. It's chaos for about a week, but then my life is only in turmoil for about two weeks every move. It helps keep my freak outs to a minimum.

And when it's time to leave, we leave. We take a picture in front of our house and go. Spray out the garbage can one last time. No dawdling. We hit the road and don't stop until we're "home." (Again, I'll let you know how this changes with a baby.) It's kind of funny for me to be so no nonsense about moves now, because about six years ago, I would have FREAKED out at moving this many times, to states I've never visited. I guess that's just part of my hardened military skin.

You'll get everything packed, you'll say goodbye, you'll maybe shed a tear or two while you enjoy your last meal at your favorite restaurant or when you lock your house for the last time, but you'll get on the road, and you won't look back. You're going to love your new place (it's SO cute), your new city (really, it's great), your new state (um, gorgeous). It's so worth it. And just think... it's your last military move! YAY!

Okay, let's flip it and reverse it. What do you love about the military? Has the AF given you something you wouldn't have had a chance to experience anywhere else? Let's hear it. Maybe thinking about the good will keep the stress to a minimum?

Remember to breath!
Mallory

The stresses of dreaming.

Dear Mallory,

I've been avoiding writing this letter all morning. I took my time with my make-up and hair and getting dressed. I started a load of laundry. I found all of the dogs' toys and threw them outside so their backyard experience this morning would be full of entertainment and whimsy. I refilled my coffee and decided I needed oatmeal with Craisins. Then, while I let that cool, I decided I needed to start burning through our candles. So I found our votives, placed them in the appropriate candle containers, and lit them on fire. Which meant I needed to save the wick in a rather large, ill-burning candle. And then, to prove all of this happened, I took photos of everything. Oh! Also, somewhere in there, I got all caught up on some of my favorite blogs.

Sorry if that photo of the oatmeal grosses you out...

I'm sorry for the delay.

On Friday night I said good bye to our roommate, Kate Yo. She left for Chicago early Saturday morning and ever since then our house has felt gigantic, empty, and silent. Hurley has been a little weird. We're back to doing our own dishes. I've started to realize all of this crap in our house really is ours. And yesterday, sweating profusely while wrestling with some weeds [say that 5 times fast], I cursed our large backyard and the lack of helping hands and our dogs who pee on everything [I love you so, you muttly dogs]. And while this all might sound very stupid and shortsighted of me, I really miss our roommate. I miss my sister who once lived with us and now lives 5 short miles away. I dread saying good bye to her. I miss the days of not having roommates because, had I known then how difficult these good byes would be, I wouldn't have invited them into our homes and our lives.

And while I love dreaming of the future--Australia mayhaps!--it's making me impatient. And a little bitter. I know our lives are happening now but I'd like to do what we want to do now, not what the Military wants us to do. I'm tired of making do with what we have. I'm tired of talking about "someday," and wish, instead, that "someday" was now.

And had I known the Military was going to move us again, I wouldn't have grown so attached to our house and our town and my friends. I would have stayed in the house that was repeatedly broken into. I would have stayed there, comfortably close to the large dog park and the job that I left because I thought I'd have time to change my career. I would have done so many things differently.

And I'm just so beside myself today. I'm sad. I'm angry. And I am anxious. Nothing is in my control. Nothing can be changed. I have to make life decisions based on this bitch who demands my husband's attention, moving us and deploying him and leaving us alone for nights, weeks, and months at a time. The Military is ruthless and selfish and weird and scary and avoidant. And lately I've been struggling. I've been struggling to focus on the next two years; the last two years Aaron will give to the Military. I'm pursuing my Master's out of anger. I daily go back and forth on our decision to have kids. I don't know where we should settle down once we're out [Australia, Michigan, Chicago, D.C., Florida...?]. And then there are friends like you. I just hurt for you and your little family. I wish we were neighbors so we could knock out TDYs and deployments together, but even simple things like having neighbors you like is outside of our control.

[Confession: I took another break to go outside and clean up the Miracle Grow I spilled all over the gardening table yesterday. Which meant I then had to turn the sprinkler on so as to ensure that Miracle Grow works! And then I consoled Chuck because ever since I sprayed her down with the hose after one of her many romps in the mud she's been terrified. You can't blame the girl.]

I have no idea what happened to our grass.

I've been telling everyone I'm excited about this move because I am. But I'm also scared, really stressed out, and tired. I would just like to get it over with. We're still waiting on TMO & Finance to tell us how many reimbursable days we have to move from the PNW to the South. We just discovered, in order to get a moving incentive, we have to move 500lbs of our stuff. I have no idea how we're going to cram 500lb of crap into our Jetta [this does not include our bodies or the dogs' bodies]. The earliest TMO can have our belongings in our rental is 5 days after we arrive in the South [which means they have more time to move our belongings than we do to move ourselves]. The Military is no longer paying us before the move and is, instead, reimbursing us afterwards. They just don't have the funds. Which makes me wonder, how are families--like yourself, with babies and dogs and cats and things--moving without that extra help? It's a forced move, people! What are they doing with that money? Wouldn't it be cheaper to pay us beforehand? Who's making these decisions? I imagine it's some rich, white, wealthy jerk in D.C. taking naps in his plush, leather office chair, toupee dangling precariously on his bald head, cigar staining his teeth.

[I'm sorry. I know money is a touchy subject. But it's extra touchy in the Military, and I'm just frustrated right now!]

Do you guys have TMO move you? Or do you move yourselves? What things do you love about moving? And hate? How do you say good bye? Is it a relief when you get on the road or are you terrified of what's to come? I like moving. I really, really do. It's always an adventure and I'm so happy we'll only be a day's drive from MI. But it's these upcoming weeks, before we hit the road, that I hate. Do you get antsy like I do? Do you write lists? Do you save them on your computer? Do you plan out a road trip or try to get there as fast as you can? Camp or stay in hotels? Stop at "roadside attractions" or blow past them? Do you go out of your way to see cool things like national parks and war monuments, or do you stick to a straight and narrow path?

I would do anything for that face, though.

Sorry for the ranting and raving. Wednesday's letter will be much nicer and coherent... I promise. I think I need to go outside, turn on some Girl Talk, and absorb some vitamin D.

Thank you for being such an understanding friend,
Amy

PS: In an attempt to procrastinate further, I tried to find some index cards for a project and it seems I have packed them already. If only I wasn't always such an overachiever... ["Overachiever" sounds better than "antsy" or "anxious" or "crazy."]

Are we crazy?

Dear Mallory,

First of all, I’m glad we’re of the same mind. It makes it so much easier to share my big dreams. At the same time, you ask questions and make observations that I completely overlooked. For instance, sometimes, even though I’m dreaming this big dream, I’m not sure if I’m made to go back to Australia and grow roots. I wonder if I’m crazy or if Aaron just goes along with these dreams to appease me, hoping they’ll die off before we actually have to take action! [I know the latter is not the case, though, because he admitted last night that if we could do it and make enough money to visit the US for a month at a time each or every other year then we should “totally do it.” Swoon.] And then to hear that you can envision me there… I love supportive friends! Also, your description of our little family nesting near the beach totally made me tear up. I so want that…

 Me, dreaming. It's the best I can do! All of my Australia photos are on an external 

hard drive and I am no where near that blessed piece of technology. So boo.

I just wish people would be brave enough to live their biggest dream. I wish I wasn’t so hesitant to live my biggest dream. I wish people weren’t so cynical. I wish people wouldn’t be so afraid of their ability to learn and work and pursue the scarier things in life. I wish I weren’t so afraid. Are you scared to live your dream? Because you seem fairly calm, cool, and collected about the possibility of pursuing it, which I find so inspiring. Fake it until you make it, right? You give me some of the strength I need to look past my excuses and just go for it. I hope you feel that, too.

Any ways, and first things first, your Commissary sells Tim Tams?! Holy… You’ve got to be kidding me. If they’ve been at my Commissary all this time, I’m going to kick myself. Aaron could have been showering me with Tim Tams for the past three years and I didn’t even know it! Good lord.

The best thing about Australia? Oh wow. I honestly don’t know if I’ll be able to pick just one thing. There are quite a few things about Australia that make me swoon, one of which is their public transportation. They make NYC and Chicago and Paris look like amateurs. The buses, the subways, the trains, the ferries, all of them are so clean and can literally get you anywhere, usually faster than any car ever could. That is not an exaggeration. When I lived there, my friends and I would hop on a bus, subway, or train, trying desperately to get lost and discover something new. But because you can access a bus, train, subway, or ferry at any time, there’s no way you can get lost.

I miss the size of Australia. Australia is basically the same size as America [check out this map], but America has 14 times the population; Australia has 22,000,000 residents as opposed to America’s 313.9 million. I mean, I guess it helps that the majority of the Australian continent is dead. And I know all of this because I took extensive classes on Australian history, politics, culture, religion, and current events. My class was bombarded by it. We visited Canberra, Australia’s capital, and talked with embassies and their ambassadors. We trolled through their national libraries and courtrooms, talking with politicians. We spent part of our semester learning from Oomera Edwards, an aboriginal woman who was ripped from her mother and raised by white women in order to “make her white,” an all too-common practice.

I love the culture. I love the people. I love the weather. I even love the fact that they’re still drinking instant coffee because it’s so hard to import things like coffee beans. It was gross, but you adjust.

I’d love to hear sometime what you loved about the UK, about Scotland. What other things did you wish you had done while you were visiting Scotland? What was your favorite meal? Your favorite experience and/or interaction? And we’ll have to discuss the possibility of sharing tiny houses in northern MI, Montana, and Hawaii. Should we include another destination [really, I think that’s all we need]? I love strange, nearly unattainable dreams like tiny house vacation spots. Do you think people think we’re crazy?

Sorry for the Australia lesson.

Your rambling friend,

Amy

Live Your Own Adventure

Dear Amy,

Okay. I think it's settled. Jon and I need to somehow obtain Corstorphine Abbey, you and Aaron need to find some cute little bungalow near a beach in Australia, we'll build tiny houses in Michigan, Montana, and Hawaii, and then we'll all sign up for a really good frequent flyer program, because we'll just travel between all of them. New dream. Hashed out right here. Love it.

Also, how great is it that both Aaron and Jon would totally love to go to culinary school? Let's get those boys together. They need to be best friends. And then, as you said, we'd be neighbors finally.

This is where I spent my childhood.

Let me just say, I love your dream. I also love that both of our dreams take us away. It doesn't surprise me that we're of same minds on this topic because we're almost always of same minds. Going back to Michigan has this super romantic notion in my mind. Like, if we moved back one day, we would see family and friends and life would be predictable and slow. But like you said, family and friends have moved. Our lives wouldn't be this idea of Michigan. It would be different, and because it would be different, I wonder if it would be sad?

It's definitely this nomadic military life that makes it okay in our hearts to live our own adventures. Sure, I miss my family. My brother Dylan, who was always the resident know it all, is growing up (just like the rest of my siblings are) and all of a sudden he's this cool adult I want to hang out with. A different version of the same story could be said about any of my siblings (and even siblings in law). My parents are my friends now, which is weird in it's own way. So yes, I miss them. I miss Michigan too, with it's fireflies and pristine beaches, it's wonderful food and culture, it's beautiful seasons and indescribable allure. But would we go back? Not sure.

Living our own adventure... in Scotland (of course).

It really is high time we need to live our own adventures. Work jobs we love, take trips we need, be together in places we adore. Jon and I often dream about where we will end up. I guess that's the way of the military. Sometimes we think Michigan is the way to go. More often though, we find ourselves dreaming of other places... Pennsylvania, North Carolina, Montana, the Pacific NW, New England... Maybe it's a good thing we have at least nine more years to go before we have to make these decisions.

What was the best part about Australia? I've never been, but I want to go so badly. Would you try to pick up an accent? Do you need me to send you Tim Tams? Because they stock them at our Commissary. Your dream life in Australia sounds so perfectly you. A gaggle of surfer children running barefoot through your stunningly warm kitchen. You sun kissed, with crazy gorgeous hair. An amazing aroma filling the house from Aaron's cooking. (Me, sitting with you on the front porch talking life.) I can see you there.

And to answer your questions... Yes, you better come to as many feasts at Corstorphine Abbey as you can, the hotel would be open all year (with a big family party at Christmastime), we'd have a tiny house in Montana, decorating would be a very exciting and welcome chore (SO many ideas), and we'd serve breakfast food. Amazing breakfasts. It's our favorite meal.

If not Australia, though I fully support that move, where do you see yourself ending up? You're getting close to making that decision. Any dreams?

Mallory

Australia dreamin'.

Dear Mallory,

I love your dream. I’ve actually been thinking about it for the past 24 hours because I love it so much. You would be so great running a hotel, especially as the Event Planner/Coordinator. And how perfect would it be to keep some space in the castle for you and your family? Space for dogs to roam and boys to climb trees and maybe a patio with twinkle lights + a large oak table for feasts with friends… Wait. Can I attend one of those feasts? Because you know I’ll be visiting. I will also be sending you care packages with the American treats you’ll miss [it’s inevitable. I didn't know I had a love for Cheez-Its until I arrived in Sydney and craved their crisp, cheesy goodness on the reg].

What do I dream about? So much. Babies and pursuing a career as an artist and Aaron fulfilling his dream of attending culinary school and running a pit bull rescue and owning a fleet of tiny houses placed throughout the world and not worrying about money and gathering everyone I love into one space to share laughter and love and memories. For the past few years, though, I’ve been dreaming a pretty big dream. A dream of selling belongings and packing a couple bags and moving. Moving so far away. Because if you’re going to dream, you’re going to dream big, right? 

I want to move back to Australia. This time, though, I want to take Aaron and settle our little family into a bungalow beside Bondi Beach or Coogee Beach or Curl Curl or Palm Beach. Basically, I want to raise little surfers. I want to be able to go to the grocery store and find Tim Tams, no problem. I want to rely on the super clean, super functional, super safe public transportation that New South Wales offers. I want to have friends in The Bush and The Outback. I don’t really care what we do for a living over there, I just want to live there. I love Australia. And I know Aaron would love it, too. [Keep in mind I never made it to Melbourne, which is why I'm referencing Sydney, NSW exclusively.]

Some of my reason for wanting to move to Australia is political and a little too dreamy, but also due in part to my time over there; it was so precious. I fell in love with the culture and the history and the politics and the art and the rich social life of Australians. I enjoy the way Australia pulls its identity from Asian cultures and Aboriginal cultures and the English and various European cultures. 

I just love it and I want to move back. I want to move back so hard. In fact, as much as I also dream about moving back to Michigan, I feel a total and deep despair when I compare Michigan and Australia. Because there's no contest, it's Australia every time. If we had to choose between the two, we'd be out of here in a heartbeat. I actually worry that if Aaron and I decided to vacation in Australia and New Zealand [as we plan to before we die], we would find a reason to stay. 

We do not move for another month. And I started packing yesterday.

And I know you know this, but maybe it's all of the moving that we've been doing for the military, but I feel this weird push and pull. I want to go home. I want to be close to family for once in my life. But I'm also finding that I like pursuing dreams. We have one life. While we can continue to make decisions with other people in mind, it's never going to make us happy. Our expectations are high, our families have high expectations, and our friends' expectations are all over the place. So while I want to settle down in the familiar for once in my freaking life, it's not going to be familiar when we move back. Things have changed, friends are considering their own dreams, my parents have goals they'd like to see through in this lifetime, and my siblings have already moved away, whether physically or mentally. And we've changed. We've changed more than even we realize. And we have to think of ourselves. Plus, who wouldn't want to have a free place to vacation in Australia? You'd have to be an idiot to turn down that dream.

Hurley has never lived in the same place for longer than a year ever. He hates moving.

Drink. Drink so many times.

What other dreams do you have? Would your hotel be open year round? Would you keep a house in the US somewhere? How would you decorate? What sort of food would Jon serve? And can Aaron and Jon go to culinary school together? I mean, how rad would that be. We'd actually be neighbors for once in our lives.

Unable to focus and stop dreaming, your distracted friend,

Amy

Corstorphine Abbey

Dear Amy,

Have you ever played the lottery? I did, once on my 18th birthday, and once in my early twenties when I was feeling particularly romantic and also very poor. I (obviously) didn't win. But I think I finally understood why people play week after week.

It's the dreaming. The "What would you do with 28 million dollars?" It's fun. Fun to dream the (near) impossible dream. Sure, it's probably not going to happen, but dreaming is fun, especially when it's the kind of dream that just might happen one day. It probably won't, but it could. And that's exciting.

Jon and I have am (almost) unattainable dream. We talk about it every once in a while - when the AF gets us down, or we get a particular wanderlust, or we just feel like dreaming a little bit. (okay, how many times can I say dream in one post? turn it into a drinking contest, if that's your kind of thing.) Are you ready for this?

Yes. The grass really is that green.

We want to buy that place. Christmastime 2011, we hopped across the pond to London and Edinburgh for a quick European vacation. And whilst in Edinburgh (which, oh my goodness, is particularly amazing) we came across this old, giant abbey for sale. It was about a mile outside of the bustling part of Edinburgh, still inside the city limits, and just as dreamy as you are imagining (drink up). We immediately started thinking about buying the place and what we would do with it once we were the proud new owners.

Now, unfortunately neither of us comes from money. We don't have trust funds floating around. And as I mentioned before, I haven't won the lottery. So buying this beautiful, romantic building, which we have come to call Corstorphine Abbey, is not exactly in the budget right now. BUT, if it was...

We would love to turn the building into a beautiful boutique hotel. Modern, yet reminiscent of a time  when it was, what I can only assume, bustling. Beautiful. And with a wing to ourselves. Us and our kids, two Scottish Wolfhounds, and a cat or two. We'd run the hotel, I wearing the chapeau of the resident event planner, and Jon in the chef's hat. We'd take long walks on the grounds. And we'd pop into Edinburgh for bangers and mash and sticky toffee pudding at our favorite pub.

I'm not joking when I say Corstorphine Abbey is a weekly topic of conversation in our home. What we wouldn't give to live out that big (unrealistic, but oh so fantastic) dream. And as happenstance would have it, Corstorphine Abbey was the topic of conversation Saturday night when Jon found this in his Scotch.

And I made him pose with it.

It was one of those "HA" moments, as Jon was just telling me Corstorphine Abbey was an impossible dream. Fun to think of, but 100% out of our reach. I was trying to convince him that while it is an unlikely dream, it's not 100% out of reach... maybe just 98%. The inside of this little advert said "What dream have you always wanted to fulfill?" So who knows. Maybe Glenfiddich is trying to tell us something...

Do you have a dream like this? A dream that seems frivolous or silly or impossible, but is a favorite source of entertainment and whimsy? I feel like everyone should have something like this. Just to remind us to stay hopeful.

Dreamily yours (bottoms up),
Mallory

I'm not too keen on the end of summer.

Oh Mallory,

That dinner looks absolutely dreamy. I love the idea of a twinkle light festooned backyard, but I would want something more permanent installed. How great would it be to have a space like that year round? I’m not one for hosting dinners. Hosting anything causes anxiety and general nerves and my self-diagnosed OCD kicks in and it’s just an emotional disaster [but look as cool as a cucumber on the surface!], so I commend your dreaming. You are probably a great host. If I wasn’t invited to that dinner, I would crash it [I’m not really a party crasher. I like to imagine I am, but I’m not]. You’ve been warned.

Also, you know I’m expecting you to report back with your cookie recipe findings, right? Good. I think I have a recipe you need to throw into the mix, too; Joy the Baker has a recipe I’m obsessed with here.

You want to know what I’m looking forward to after summer ends? That’s a good question.

At the moment, I’m really looking forward to just arriving in freaking Arkansas already. Moving and planning and budgeting and packing and… I just need it all to end and arrive. Normally, I enjoy the journey and the adventures we plan [like camping on our road trip, which is going to be a blast], but right now I can’t look past the practically, necessary, logical things that are cropping up and it’s stressing me out!

I’m looking forward to reapplying for grad school. YAY! to new pencils and notebooks and lectures and paper writing and projects. Seriously. My inner nerd is flipping out [or at least that’s what my stomach feels like right now].

I’m looking forward to living closer to MI. For the past three years our only logical mode of transportation to see family was an airplane. If we wanted a long vacation, we weren’t able to drive home. Taking four days to drive to MI from WA is illogical in terms of time and finances. Now we can drive if we really, really want to! Hallelujah! 

 I guess I'm excited about the vertical garden I'm planning.

Aside from that, I’m honestly a bit stressed out about the end of summer. As I’m sure you are, too, but for different reasons. I’m trying to remain positive but it’s really hard when everything is an unknown. What are you looking forward to [or trying to look forward to]? Have you started on your self-imposed cookie challenge? I need to know how it’s going.

Amy