We. Are. Here.

It's about as positive as I can be about the drive up to my parent's house. Because ...


* The drive took 8 hours, 15 minutes.

* The stop-and-go traffic was insane.

* Child #2 used up BOTH puke bags.

* Child #3 decided he didn't need to take a nap. At all.

And me? Well let's just say that when the triple cappuccino hit. It hit HARD. And despite making a pit stop at a cousin's house off the freeway, for a mini bathroom break and a quick hug, it was just the beginning of many gas station pit stops. And opportunities to evade CPS as I left the kids in the car ...

But we're now here. And despite the girls tearful goodbyes with both their friends and their teachers, they're thrilled to be here. Me too.

Because the next time the cappuccino hits me, I have more than one bathroom to choose from. And I don't need to worry about finding a toilet seat cover ...

Sheridan's teacher Mr. Nguyen
Riley's teacher Mrs. Clarke

Sheridan's dear girlfriends ...

And Riley's favorite gals ...

A quick visit with the cousins ...
... and Sheridan after filling up bag #1

Our Next Destination Awaits ...

In less than 2 hours my girls will finish their LAST day of school here in Newport Beach.

Not being a family who lets any moss grow under their feet, in true Perlman fashion we'll be hopping into our VERY packed family truckster and making the 7+ hour drive up to my parents house. The final leg of our journey before we move to Virginia.


Puke bags? Check.

Snacks for the car? Check.

Tearful goodbyes anticipated by all? Double check.

8 bags, 1 stroller, 2 car seats, and 4 Trader Joe's bags (not shown)
perfectly crammed into the family truckster.

One Month From Today ...

... we will be Virginia State residents.

A bold statement that just doesn't completely express the magnitude of our excitement.

Especially when this week has presented some sleeping challenges. And spacial challenges. And timing challenges.

But we have daily maid service. Which totally doesn't make up for the chaos. But we're beyond happy to have it. The maid service, not the chaos. It's been awhile since anyone besides me has done the cleaning ... and I will admit that it's been nice. Not nice enough that I want to stay in this small room any longer than I need to. But it's one less thing that I have to do. ONE less thing...


It hasn't been easy ... but in the past week:

* I figured out a way to cost-construct our airline tickets from San Francisco to Virginia vice Los Angeles to Virginia, and pay less than $350 out of pocket. Total. Which is a HUGE feat considering they wanted approx $600 / per ticket / per person. Now one could say that it's crazy that I have to pay any money to move on to our next post considering this is an authorized move for our family. However, we were only eligible to fly from Los Angeles to Virginia on the USG's dime, and to change our plans meant that we'd have to pay any additional monies above and beyond what the government gave us to fly from LA to VA. And surprisingly, there are no government airfares for the SF - VA route, which meant, I had to pay a regular fare. Which I did. And since the prices were minimal, I booked them.

* We were also authorized (and now scheduled) to ship our car from Northern California vice Southern California to Virginia at no additional out-of-pocket costs.

* We booked our hotel in Virginia for the few weeks until we move into our new house.

* I confirmed that our shipment from Belgium will arrive, clear customs, and be moved to the storage facility where our shipment from CA will be stored, by the time I arrive in Virginia.

* I also enrolled Grady and the girls in summer camp for 3 weeks near my parent's house. Hello sanity!


I even managed to get off the computer and out of the hotel room a bit here and there this week ...

* and enjoyed a moms brunch and mini farewell gathering that a few friends had for me today.

* and went to the mall and finally bought a pair of much needed sunglasses since my last pair were stolen out of my car back in April.

* and attempted to go bathing suit shopping. With the girls. Though I quickly realized how lousy an idea that was when my ever-so-honest daughter ripped open the dressing room curtain and loudly exclaimed that my thighs looked, "WAY too fat" for those particular bikini bottoms. Note to self. Never again take an 8 year old to a help pick out a bathing suit unless you really want her opinion. Which, frankly, you don't.


In all, a relatively good week. One where you may even admit aloud that you smiled more than you frowned.

Because you got most of what you needed to get accomplished ... accomplished. And more importantly? You realize that one month from today you'll be living out of yet another hotel room. But this time it's in Virginia. And you know that all you need to do to keep your daughters' in check, is to pull out that itsy bitsy teeny weenie yellow polka dot bikini in front of their new friends.

Which you totally added to your next shopping list for tomorrow. And smiled.

My Evening ... In Pictures

The subject was placed quietly in his pack 'n play at exactly 7:15 PM. Sure, he may have gone 'to bed' ... but he certainly didn't go 'to sleep'.

at 7:55 PM

at 8:45 PM

at 9:15 PM

at 9:30 PM

at 9:45 PM

at 10:15 PM

Got Milk? Wine?

Hotel Room *Sweet* Hotel Room

So here we are. Crammed into our small, but thankfully clean hotel room. After a long few days of packing up and moving out of our rental house.

There's actually a decent amount of closet space to store our 8 bags of clothes and 8 Trader Joe's bags of cr*p I never organized but threw together in haste when the movers decided to condense our move from two-days-to-one.

Bygones.

We checked in early Saturday morning and weren't even in the room for two minutes when Sheridan decided to play with the glass candy jar on the coffee table, and subsequently break it. Sending shards of glass all over the floor.

Again, bygones.

Let's just say that the lady at the front desk and I are going to be on a first name basis after the number of times I've gone over there these past 36 hours.

Well her, and the liquor store owner next door...

If you find an extra bottle of sanity on a shelf, send it over. Stat.

One. More. Day.

It often feels like my life this past year has been a series of "just" getting through "One ... More ... Day ... Not that life has been all that hard. It hasn't. It's just been temporary. Nomadic. And none of us have ever settled in.

I find that I use the phrase, "If Only" far too often as well.

If Only ... the kids ...
If Only ... the dog ...
If Only ... the neighbors ...
If Only ... the school ....
If Only ... the State Department ...

Introspectively, a whole lot of complaining. For no real reason. Except that I can. And I do it well.

Anyway, tonight is our last night in our crappy little rental house in Newport Beach. It didn't start off crappy. Just little. But it was apparent after moving in that the landlord wasn't really interested in keeping us in a safe, maintenance-free environment. She wanted to collect a rent check. And the problems? As frequent and as small as they may have been, were met with resistance and untimely resolve. Which was aggravating considering how much money we paid in rent. Bygones...

On the bright side, tomorrow morning, we move out of this crappy little rental house and into a hotel. And an even smaller hotel room. One room actually. With four people. For two weeks. Until school ends.

There isn't enough wine in Newport Beach to numb that pain ...

But soon. Soon enough we will be settling on our new house. On the date that Matt is actually scheduled to arrive back from Baghdad .... and one year to the day that he actually left. An auspicious day indeed.

Now, if only I can make it through just One ... More ... Day ...

And They're Off ...

At 8:20 am the movers arrived at our house ... and at 4:10 pm they were on their way.

With nary a minute to spare in between.

Our scheduled two-day move condensed into one. Despite only having half the house ready and organized for the pack-out. Because our relocation consultant insisted that we extend the pack-out from my original one-day request to two.

The bottom line? When you've already done two-handfuls of moves with the State Department, and you KNOW exactly how much stuff you have, go with your gut feeling and don't let any relocation consultant tell you what to do. Fight it. You KNOW better.

I knew better. I. Knew. Better. And really, after the movers walked through the house at 8:30 am this morning and told me that our move would be done in half a day, I agreed with them. It would be.

Except now, since I was told I HAD to do it over two days, it meant that I hadn't even remotely given thought to the clothes I was going to pack in our bags to last us the next 8 weeks. Nor had I organized any of the toiletries. Or gone through the important documents and pulled out all the items we'd need to ... you know ... close on the house or enroll the kids in school.

We also had the teensy tiny issue where the relocation consultant kinda, sorta forgot to tell the movers that they would be making an extra stop. At my in-laws storage unit. To grab the bed and side tables for our bedroom. Which now, had to be changed from tomorrow to today since the pack-out / move was condensed to one-day, and not two. Why I bothered to go through all the trouble to get them the information and the approvals only for none of it to matter is beyond me.

Anyway, by 9:15 am the revisions were finally made. By 9:30 am, the four packers began doing their thing. By 2:30 pm they were finished. Five hours is all it took them to pack, wrap, and load the truck. Five short hours to handle everything in our house before moving onto the storage unit, where more time was spent actually signing all the inventory documents than schlepping furniture.

And now it's done. It's finished. It's on the road.

Which is where we'll soon be in five short weeks too.

Now excuse me. I have a letter to write to the relocation consultant and my transportation specialist to discuss the little problem we encountered today. Seriously. My pain, is your gain.

bye-bye stuff ... see you soon!

and speaking of pain ... filtered for your pleasure!

Birthdays and Lasers and Pack-Outs Oh My!

So apparently this having a birthday gig during the middle of a pack-out is kind of crazy.

Okay, VERY crazy.

Especially when your less than 1000 square foot, fully furnished rental house is inundated with all the brand new furniture you had delivered over the weekend. Or that you picked up today. Furniture that's coming out of the woodwork (just like the termites). There really isn't a square to spare...

Chairs I just had made ... the kids' bedroom furniture

And then you go off and have your face all lasered. Even more than usual because your dermatologist feels for you and does twice as much ... for the exact same price.

The first rule in Fight Club ...

You even ask your local Starbucks Barista for a free drink for your birthday. And you get one. Which pretty much makes your day.


But not quite as much as having these three lovely ladies actually post on their own blogs the sweetest messages about your day. Or the awesome moms from your daughter's class who knew you were stressing about packing, and dropped off a delicious burrito with guacamole for lunch. Exactly what you were craving!


It's topped off with several hundred emails, text messages, phone calls, and Facebook comments wishing you a special day, further solidifying your overwhelmedness. Shut up - that is totally a word. And despite knowing you want to write back to everyone and thank them, you just can't. At least not until Thursday... maybe even after you check into your hotel on Saturday. Maybe.

Until then ... you still have this to deal with. Though you really want to continue the birthday celebrations. Because despite the stresses of the day, it's actually been a really good one, and you hardly feel a day over 29 37.

*ahem* 38.

Just some of the rooms ready to go for tomorrow's pack-out.

Let The Insanity Begin!

In less than 96 hours the movers will be here to pack up our rental house. Our third move in three years ... if you're keeping track.

Which means that I will be a crazy person for the next few days. Boxing up all the appliances I didn't put into storage in Belgium. Organizing the garage so all the furniture I ordered can be delivered over the next two days. Packing up the bags we'll be living out of until we get to our final destination in Virginia. Sometime in the next eight weeks.

I'll also be celebrating a birthday during this busy time. One that brings me wee close to 40. Which, as I told Matt a few months ago, is totally the new thirty. That is, unless you're still in you're thirties. For at least one more year. *ahem*

I may also be getting my nose lasered again. On my special day. Because apparently there isn't enough stress going on in my life over the next few days, and nothing says, "happy birthday" better than an ugly, swollen nose. And laundry. And packing. And labeling the house. And organizing. And last minute moving issues. Which I already know I'm dealing with today.

Though I wished to have spent our last weekend in our rental house at the beach. Relaxing. Going for a bike ride. Enjoying the scenery. We won't be. And we're OK with it. As long as it's the last time Matt has to bid out for awhile.

Which, of course ... it isn't.


But it is the last time we're moving. For awhile.


Insanity to ensue ... starting now.

You Don't Always Get What YOU Pay For ...

When I approached the receptionists desk to check-out at the pediatric dentist's office today, I was assured that they would bill my insurance.

Of course, that's AFTER I pay the charges in full ...

... to the tune tune of $804!


Did you hear that? EIGHT HUNDRED FOUR DOLLARS!!


With my mouth agape, I slowly pulled out my credit card, and handed it over to the receptionist. I tried not to shake my head too hard. To look too shell shocked. To puke.

But seriously? For $804, they should be sending me home with someone to help brush and floss their teeth twice a day.

No, seriously.

Sure, I understand that the prices we paid overseas were ridiculously inexpensive. Even by India's standards. But a $92 charge for each girl to establish us as new patients ... when all we needed to was to scrape a little tartar off of Riley's teeth and remind Sheridan how to brush correctly ... seemed ludicrous.

I will admit that the office was pretty cool. One big room with four chairs lined up next to each other for the kids to get their teeth cleaned. Large monitors for the hygienists to look at their x-rays. And flat screen TV's above each chair for the kids to watch.

This type of relaxing environment would have been a great place to have taken the kids back. Not only were the hygienists thorough, but the dentist actually took a lot of time discussing the complexity of the girls' future orthodontic treatments.

After closer inspection of the statement, I'll concede that the prices were fairly reasonable. I think. Though, I'm sure that our insurance won't cover more than a wee portion of the total bill.

Which sucks because it looks like I just paid for at least two of their office TV's. And I really could have used at least one of them in our new home.

It's a good thing that the 'toothbrush' and 'oral hygiene instruction' were included in the price. Can you imagine the dialogue I would have had if they assigned a price?
I'm quite sure it would have contained MANY four letter words ...

Another Reason Why NOT To Skip A Well Check-Up ...

... because you may discover this.

And when you find out that you hit the trifecta with near sightedness, an astigmatism, AND a lazy eye (not to be confused with general laziness ... *ahem*) you'll kick yourself that you didn't discover it sooner!

Could she be any cuter? She picked these out on her own ... red and pink with flowers. And she LOVES them. You've never met a girl who wanted glasses more than her!

Of course, this IS Sheridan. So let's take bets on how long before she looses or ruins them. I say a week. Maybe two. Tops.

At 1:37 PM I Hit The Send Button ...

... and at 2:41 PM I had our travel orders in my inbox.

With a note of apology. From the Executive Director of the HR bureau.

Amazing what a well written, factual, plea-for-help-because-your-HR-tech-sucks letter can do.

Now ... let the amendments begin!!

The Irony Of It All ...

Can I admit something? I've never taken the girls for their well check-ups.

Sure, they're completely up-to-date on their immunizations. And then some. But aside from their State Department and school medical clearance forms (both of which had been signed without doing anything more than taking their temperature and their blood pressure), and some sort of ailment that always had us doctor's office bound at least once a year, they haven't had a true check-up in ages. Well ... ever.

Until today.

So imagine my surprise when after taking their vitals, doing a complete once-over, a blood test, a vision, test, and mini-behavior screening, it was confirmed that both girls have absolutely perfect hearing.

Now, if I could just get them to actually LISTEN ...

Keeping My Eye On The Prize

Matt left again today. Making the long journey back to Iraq. Just like he did way back when ... on July 18, 2010 ... and on November 30, 2010 ... and on February 23, 2011.

Only this time there was far less angst. No real queasiness. No pit in my stomach. No crocodile tears.

Instead, he left us this morning with hope. With excitement. With a solid view of a light at the end of the tunnel. Our new house, in the semi-final stages of completion, as the dangling carrot. The raison d'etre. Everything we've both worked for over the past several years finally coming to fruition.

And as sad as we are to lose those extra set of hands, and hugs, and dirty clothes today, we know that the time is going to absolutely fly by, and we'll be reunited in Virginia in a blink of an eye.

Two weeks until our pack-out

Two-and-a-half weeks until we move into a hotel

Four-and-a-half weeks until school ends

Six to seven weeks until we move to Virginia

Seven to eight weeks until we move into our new house

Nine weeks, two days until Matt comes home. For Good.

I'm sure this last stretch of road may be a bit bumpy ... but I'm keeping my eyes firmly affixed on the prize. As I realize that all good things are coming to those who have waited ...

Today ... He Smiled

He's been SO darn miserable for the past week ... having gone to the pediatrician's office early Saturday morning for the fourth time in nine days.

The latest diagnoses?

The trauma to his tongue that we encountered last Wednesday was now looking more like a viral lesion and was covering 1/4 of his tongue. It swelled up frighteningly large, making him drool uncontrollably, unable to eat anything solid, and difficult for him to speak. Major bummer.

He also had a double ear infection. And was put on antibiotics for the first time ever. Double bummer.

But here he is ... almost a week later. Sporting a new 'do. Finally happy. Finally smiling again. Cute as a button.

Gratuitous Grady photo for your viewing pleasure ...

We MUST Be On Candid Camera ...

Three ... It's the magic number ...


... it's the number of times we've been to the doctor's office with Grady this week.

Once for a gnarly rash on his bum. Once for his two-year old routine check-up where he measured in the 80th percentile for height and the 30th percentile for weight. And once for trauma to his tongue. I'm sure I'll see them again soon.


... and it's the number of times Matt's orders have been rejected this week.

Yes, again yesterday. After we discovered another work around to re-submit them. All to no avail as his CDA didn't enroll him in a mandatory class (that he requested over a month ago) and his HR tech gave him the Heisman. Ahhh ... the sweet sounds of incompetence.


But on a lighter note, we are totally in the running to win the award of "Most times an HR Tech can REJECT your travel orders request." Fingers crossed ... I never win anything!

I'm Ready For The Sunshine ... Just Not Blown Up My A**

No worries ... I don't think it'll be happening any time soon by the State Department anyway. Considering Matt's HR tech denied his travel orders once again. Though the reason this time has me shaking my head in absolute disbelief ... for it all comes down to the "title" of his travel orders. Apparently everything in his orders is correct. The itinerary. The dates. The Allowances.

HOWEVER, because the system pulls travel dates chronologically, and we're moving to Virginia before Matthew leaves Iraq, the "title" of the travel orders submitted reads "Newport Beach to DC" vice "Iraq to DC". And they were REJECTED.

This itty bitty date issue is a known-glitch in the system for many employees departing Iraq and as we're discovering completely, entirely, and frustratingly delays the travel order process. Sadly, this glitch in the system won't allow Matt's HR tech to see past the end of her nose and realize that the "title" is merely a "title" and despite us traveling before Matthew, should make absolutely NO difference in the approval process. But what's worse is that we're told that all we have to do is change my travel dates to one day after Matt's so that it re-title's the orders to read "Iraq to DC", and then they'll be approved.

Which is difficult to do while Matt is on R&R.

But let's add insult to injury. Once his orders are issued, we can re-schedule our travel dates as originally planned. FRUSTRATING, eh?

And let's take it to an even crazier level. Like when Matt received an email from his CDA last Thursday telling him not to worry about any of this because his orders have been cut and she'll email them to us. Which she did last Friday. Though they were LAST year's travel orders. Not THIS year's. And after a combination of laughing, yelling, and cussing, we're again back to square one.

Which is NO travel orders. And no authorization to release our storage items from Belgium. And an increased stay in a one-bedroom hotel room with all 5 of us in Virginia as we wait for all our basics to get delivered to our new house.

But in the meantime ... as I wait for someone to blow some sunshine ... I'm actually cr*pping out $100 bills. By the fistful. And there's no end in sight.

New bedding for the girls rooms? Sure ... Pottery Barn here we come.

New eyeglasses for Matthew? Of course! Let's get THE most expensive frames we can find.

New silverware. New dining room furniture. New comforter. New clothes for Matt.

If it's available to be purchased, I've probably priced it out. Or bought it. Because we were just 'making do' and needed these items ... whether we moved into a new house or moved to another overseas posting. Of course, as a government worker, Matt is totally overpaid and we are made of money.

When we're finally close to being done, I'm going to need an enema. So I can stop the hemorrhaging of money on our new house. Or else I'll be moving from the new house to the poor house.

I also need to be ready for the sunshine. Just as long as it steers clear of my a**. I already have enough pain in it.

I Loved You Long Before You Were Born ...

... before you were even the twinkle in my eye.

... before you were fluttering around in my large, LARGE belly.

... before they were sending me home early on a plane from India because you were way too high risk of a pregnancy.

And now that you're to, you're too, you're TWO ... I just can't believe how we managed as long as we did without you.

Happy Birthday Grady Shaw! You're certainly not a baby anymore ...

And Jet Lag Sets In ...

He's here! We're excited. And for the next two weeks, all is right in our world.

Now if he'd just stay awake later than his daughters ...

I KNOW I Shouldn't Be Surprised ...

... yet despite working for the USG for 11 years now, I STILL get annoyed when our infamous Human Resources Tech manages to screw up our travel orders.

Since Matt joined the State Department in 2000, we have been blessed with having ...

1 domestic move, 4 international moves, 1 unaccompanied move, 2 layette shipments, 2 consumable shipments, 1 medevac, and have taken advantage of shipping our UAB (unaccompanied air baggage) 9 out of 12 times during our official moves from ...

• Los Angeles to New Jersey (2000)
• New Jersey to Muscat, Oman (2003)
• Muscat, Oman to Los Angeles (2005)
• Los Angeles to Washington, DC (2005)
• Washington, DC to Tel Aviv, Israel (2005)
• Tel Aviv, Israel to Los Angeles (2008)
• Los Angeles to Washington, DC (2008)
• Washington, DC to Chennai, India (2008)
• Chennai, India to Los Angeles (2009)
• Los Angeles to Chennai, India (2009)
• Chennai, India to Los Angeles (2010)
• Los Angeles to Baghdad, Iraq (2010)

HOWEVER, with all of these official moves, not ONCE - NOT ONCE - have his travel orders been correct.

The first time it really affected us was when we departed Muscat, Oman and our orders were so royally screwed up that we left there without them. And in their place? A signed affidavit stating that should we not follow the impending orders, we'd reimburse the USG any monies potentially owed. Yeah ... that was fun.

Due to travel order mishaps, we've since had shipments that didn't make their destination on time, shipments that were ruined, issues with weight (thankfully not mine ...), storage problems, and unbelievable airline quagmires. Most of these have been handled with relative ease either at post or with someone who saw a rant or rave on the USG listserv group in which I belong. As a now-seasoned spouse, I can usually roll with the punches.

That is ... with everything except our travel orders. Not a transfer season, a medevac, a consumable shipment has passed without my blood pressure rising, and a nasty gram sent off. I can usually handle the HR tech's incompetence for the first set of orders. They're never on time, and never correct. By the second, she's probably just overlooked an email or a code. But by the third, and inevitably the fourth, of which I expect to happen by now, I lose my cookies. My alter ego, angry Jill, rears her ugly head, and I quickly move up the chain of command, and send off an email to the head of the entire HR department at State. Whose name, email, and phone number will forever be saved in my address book.

Why oh why does it ALWAYS appear that every transfer season it's as if they're doing this for the first time?

The best part of all of this? Is that usually, this all happens just before Matt leaves on a business trip, a vacation, or a training. See where I'm going with this? As in, one day prior to his departure for his last R&R? Oh yes ... rejected travel orders ... due to a mistake that could have been avoided if his HR tech actually answered his email to her ... about 3 weeks ago.

However, this time I'm not worried about airline tickets, or my California pack-out, Matt's air shipment either. The orders will be amended perfectly in time to get that all squared away. The issue this time is that the orders won't be completed until Matt gets back to Iraq at the end of May, which will delay the shipment to Virginia of our stuff in storage in Belgium. Which is a big deal considering how long I'll potentially be living in a hotel. The stuff at ELSO contains all our dishes, our towels, sheets, furniture, kids toys ... and without it, will keep me hotel bound until its arrival. Which takes approximately two months. Maybe longer during the summer transfer season.

I'm frustrated. I'm perturbed. I'm irked.

However, I know that it'll eventually all be worked out. These mistakes have sadly become the norm. Which is why we manage our expectations by working on things so darn early. To account for the time it takes to fix them. All three, four, and five times. In fact, once we get to Virginia, I'll probably start the process for our next move. Several years early. Just to be on the safe side.

The one positive? I don't think I'll ever see a retirement party as big and bold as the one that will be thrown for this HR tech when she finally does decide to retire. Heck, if it helped move things along, I'd offer to throw it myself...

Inquiring Minds Wanted To Know ...

I wasn't sure what to expect when I flew out to Virginia last week. Would the house resemble a home? Would I be able to envision a finished product from just the framing? Would I have *gulp* buyers remorse?

Yes ... Yes ... and ABSOLUTELY Not! Whew.

While the trip was extremely quick (I was there less than 36 hours), it was beyond productive. I met with the home inspector on Thursday and spent about three hours in our house and in the model taking measurements. On Friday I met with the builder's contractor to do the pre-drywall inspection, and spent another two hours on site. Amazingly, there was very little that needed to be fixed over the weekend before they begin insulating tomorrow, and begin the dry-wall on Wednesday. We're ahead of schedule people!!

I spent a majority of the rest of my time doing reconnaissance. I scoped out every single grocery store within a 10 mile radius of our house. I located the nearest Starbucks (approx 3 miles). I picked up the registration packets for the girls elementary school. I found the park and ride where Matt may use the commuter bus. I took dinner to a girlfriend in the hospital. I also drove to two shopping malls, found three Home Depot's (where I'm sure I'll get to know everyone by name), and navigated my way to two Synagogue's, one of which was in ... get this ... a strip mall. I don't know why it bothered me so much to see it there. Maybe it was the lack of architecture. Maybe because it was surrounded in an industrial area with bathroom, granite, and builder's design centers. Or maybe it's because they didn't even think about renting next to a Chinese restaurant...

In all, it was a great trip, that has me excited for the future. Which should start somewhere in the next 10 -12 weeks!

L: The Kitchen and Morning Room
R: The view when you first walk into the house

The master bedroom.
View of the recessed lighting and lighting pre-wires.

Matt's *%^$&@*!#* trees
View of our backyard

Synagogue in the strip mall. The one we probably won't be joining.
However, if they put in a drive-thru window, I'd totally order the McTorah.