The Joke Continues..

I spent a lot of time looking at this after we found out we were moving to China Lake.  Look at all that brown.  I gave up complaining for Lent, so I'm just going to leave that as a simple statement...look at all that brown.  There it is.  

I cried for the first week.  Now I've thrown myself into moving preparations in order to stay in a state of denial.  Ignore the problem, and it will go away, right?  I'm pretty sure it doesn't work that way when it comes to "the needs of the Navy."

The general reaction from people who actually know what or where China Lake is is something like sympathy.  You see the face.  The "ick" face.  Then they remember that you are about to move there for three years, and it changes to the "sympathetic head tilt."  "Well," they say, "there's no humidity."  Or..."Well, at least you can say you lived in California."  (I already have lived in California, by the way.)  

 

So the other day, I said to the dear husband, "Just once I would like to tell someone we're moving to China Lake and have them say something positive."

 

Skip to the next day, I am at my dentist's office telling my hygienist that we're moving to China Lake.   Behind my chair, I hear her assistant say, "Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful."  What?!  Finally.  In disbelief I say, "You've been there?"  "Nope," she replies, "but I watch HGTV and the Travel Channel, ya know?"  HAHA, God.  You got me again.  Someone said something nice about it.  Never mind that the places she's thinking of are probably hours away.  

 

Lest I insult someone, I'll put this out there.  I haven't been there yet, so for all I know, it is beautiful.  And I know some people find absolute beauty in the desert, but I'm sorry, I just don't.  It's not you; it's me, Desert. We had never had a chance to start with. 

Great Expectations

So a week ago, I was working on a great post about how I finished cutting the fabric for the Quilt Along and it only took me an entire week:

 Or how I failed at my second attempt to make bread:

And then Monday morning happened.  The gods of the Navy stepped in and decided to through us for a loop.  I was lying in bed trying to get back to sleep despite a huge headache (possibly from the three glasses of wine I had the night before - it only takes two to get me drunk so...) when my phone started honking at me to let me know my dear husband was calling.  I squawked out a hello, and (it all gets a little fuzzy here) I remember him saying, "Well, it's not Lemoore, but...we're going to China Lake...in the mountains...it's kind of like the desert (go ahead and imagine a dramatic echoing there because that's the word the needle in my mind has been stuck on for four days now...desert.)  We hang up.  I hit the "Maps" button on my phone and type in "China Lake."  There is a large span of land between that dot and the blue stuff I so love living near.  Okay.  I hit the satellite view and everything turns tan.  Nasty, yucky, dirty tan.  No green.  No blue.  Desert.

Okay, I should backtrack here.  We thought we were going to Monterrey.  At the very worst, we thought we were staying in Jacksonville with a seven month hiatus in San Diego (the two trips across the country in less than a year being the bad part).  The most warning we got was a message a week before the orders that said, "We might have a flying billet for you."  That's it.

I should backtrack further.  Three years ago, as were driving through the desert, I said, "This is ugly.  I can't imagine why anybody would want to live here.  I never want to live in the desert.  Don't ever ask for Fallon.  Seriously, I don't care how much you love your career.  I will not live in Fallon."

One more step.  Almost four years ago, when we were dating, I said, "I don't ever want to be landlocked.  I'm from the water.  My people are from the water.  I cannot be landlocked.  You're in the Navy so that shouldn't be too much of a problem, right?"


Now, fast forward to now.  Desert.  Well, crap.

With all that being said, I will admit that I know it could be worse.  He really should have started the conversation with, "It's not an IA."  Because it's not.  It's not a separation.  And there are so many things for which to be thankful.  God has a plan (other than playing jokes on me, which He loves to do - in fact if the joke's on me, that's how I usually know it's straight from God).  But sometimes, it takes a while to see it.  And it takes a while to adjust to the idea of spending the next three years in the desert (two hours away from civilization as you know it) when you thought you were going to be in beautiful places (at least my idea of beautiful places).

So I guess there's a new chapter opening on The Writing Fox.  The first of which will be about how to get a toddler, an old dog, a grumpy cat, two adults, two normal cars, and a Frankencar from Jacksonville to China Lake and still keep your sanity.

Inspiration and Thrifting

I just finished Handmade Home by Amanda Blake Soule (check her out at SouleMama).  Holy cow!  What an awesome book!  It's not very often that I devour a book these days (at least not one that doesn't contain vampire love stories or adolescent wizards - don't judge), but I couldn't stop turning the page to see what super neat project waited for me on the next page.  It made me completely rethink where I get material to work with, what I do with worn out clothes, and just how I view "old stuff" in general.

Thrifting
It's a theme that runs through the entire book.  Taking old things and repurposing them.  She uses the word to cover garage sales, flea markets, thrift stores, etc.  Thrifting is one of those things I have an on-again/off-again love/hate relationship with.  There's a lot of slashes there, I know.  I have friends who go to thrift stores and find amazing things.  It's a talent.  I go to the same thrift store and spend thirty minutes to an hour walking around dazed and confused and come out with nothing.  But then a super-thrifter friend will come along with another amazing find, and I decide to try again, same results - nada.  But I've been inspired again by Handmade Home, and the items needed are mostly vintage fabric. That should be easy enough to find, right?  I'm hoping this is something you can learn, but I'm thinking some people are just born with it.  Follow along with me as I attempt to learn to thrift...
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