By Patti Parish-Kaminski, Publisher
Dining at only the best in the country where they have wine and proudly serve it in Styrofoam cups.
I have been on a journey for the past six weeks, and let me just say, it has been a doozy – one I am not interested in repeating any time soon.
After 22 years, Mr. Kaminski and I moved out of our Fort Bend home. Now this was the plan – for later on this summer. But as fate would have it, we hired a realtor extraordinaire – my big sis Debbie Marcell – and she sold our home – in one day. I’m not kidding. She’s with Gary Greene if you need to find her, but if you list your house with her, start packing immediately. We – mostly I – literally had three weeks to pack up 22 years of memories and mayhem and find another place to live all while working two full-time jobs. It. Was. Exhausting.
Here’s a rundown of the moving madness:
The smell of cardboard boxes has just about done me in. Yes, they smell, and it’s not pleasant.
I now have aches and pains in every square inch of my body. I have pains in places I didn’t know existed, and if I get down on the floor, it’s an exercise in futility to become vertical in a timely manner. Just doesn’t happen.
It took two weeks to find kitchen knives. For two weeks, we were on a soft diet as a result of the concealed cutlery.
I have given up on most undergarments. I don’t know where they are, but I know they are not on my body. Mr. Kaminski considers this a benefit.
I have lost a solid five pounds. One positive thing that is lost – winning!
I have cursed, cried and cajoled throughout the entire process. The only thing that could possibly rectify this traumatic experience is a diamond – and I’m talking an Elizabeth Taylor 69 carat type situation.
Just this week, Mr. Kaminski posted our new locale on social media, and let’s just say his declaration was met with some trepidation. The crux of the concern was whether or not I actually moved with him. You see, with such a quick turnaround during the moving madness, options were limited, and the goal was to get Mr. Kaminski closer to his work without fighting 59, Highway 6 or the Brazos River construction crazy. Given those perimeters, we landed in Wallis, Texas.
Apparently, there was a great deal of concern about me relocating to Wallis. Now I’m a bloom where I’m planted kind of girl. I can get along to get along just about anywhere. That’s why I never feared going to jail when I went off of anyone who was foolish enough to mess with my money, my babies or my hubby. I would flourish in jail because of all of the freebies: meals, clothing, housing, health care, gym, educational opportunities. Heck, I would run Cell Block D in a heartbeat.
So, I am now a country girl with an amazing wardrobe. I can get to Babs walking solely on concrete and covered from the elements. My neighbors are cows, peacocks, guinea hens, squirrels, cats and trains – lots of trains. Our dining options are limited, but I consider that a plus in the weight loss wars. Best of all, my BFF Amazon knows how to find me, and I have wine. The convenience store down the street even sells my vino go to. We’ll just call this new adventure a win. See y’all next week – on the porch!
Patti Parish-Kaminski
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