We are here.
It wasn't easy, and we are all exhausted and cold, but all are present and accounted for in Music City.
I can't begin this next chapter of entries without first acknowledging the fact that I have the world's greatest friends who made it particularly difficult to leave. I miss them already. But if any of them are reading this now and considering sending me a care package of oranges, please include slippers and Chapstick because I don't know if I'll die from scurvy or frostbite because it's freaking cold here!
And just so you know that I haven't changed in the last 48 hours since surrendering my Florida residency, you'll be pleased to know that I am still wearing my cheesy black flip flops as my footwear. Not so much out of protest, but because the movers seemed to have misplaced the box that all my shoes are packed in. Normally, I wouldn't mind these missing articles, but since it's 28 degrees here and I'm supposed to be attending the CMA's tomorrow night, I'm a little concerned. Dude, I seriously can't be walking the red carpet in the $2.50 Old Navy bin specials.
Other than that, things are going well. Ish.
I've discovered that I'm waking up before 6 every morning here, but then exhausted and ready for bed by 7:30. I also have learned that I hate unpacking as much as I hated packing, which doesn't bode well for the next couple of weeks.
The neighborhood is quiet, but we did have some visitors today which was encouraging. I'm still waiting for some homemade cookies or BBQ to show up on the doorstep.
The kids are doing well--they, too are confused on these things people use around here called "clothes" and "closed-toed shoes." It's going to be a tough adjustment.
But Jingle likes the weather. She seems to be particularly dog-like here, running in the backyard and molesting the native wildlife, including the dogs next door.
I hope to post some pictures of the sparkly events tomorrow night, but watch for me on tv. I'll be the one in flip flops and earmuffs.