Moving On

As much as we loved our country home and its fifty-two acres, there came a time that we knew it was time to move on.  For me it was the morning I had to run for the bathroom before I lost my breakfast.  That's right, pregnant again.  Precious blessing number four would soon grace our family with love and joy and laughter like you would not believe.  We had stretched the limits with three children in a two bedroom house - four would never work.  

For Edward it was a more sinister awakening.  The basement of this house was little more than a cellar and none of us liked to go down there.  However, a blown fuse or water heater gone awry would necessitate a trip for Edward.  On one such an occasion Edward made the trip down those rickety old steps and into the abyss of damp, smelly darkness.   He managed to fix the problem and decided as long as he was down there he would just clean up a bit.  He had straightened up a shelf along the wall and turned around to dust off the old furnace and duct work.  Needless to say he was slightly surprized to find two eyes staring back at him.  There he stood, no hoe in hand, nothing but an old broom, face to face with yet another snake.  It took him all of thirty seconds to run up those rickety old steps, yell "we're moving", and out the door he went.

By the end of the day he had calmed down, the snake had been "disposed of" but the determination to move was still there.  We started house hunting the next day.