This Is NOT Christmas

I don't know who said it first, but the arrival of all ground/surface/sea possessions does not remind me of Christmas at all.

Our skill in growing boxes can't be denied.

Sure, there are lots of boxes and and unwrapping and things; for example, we planted some box plants yesterday morning, and look at how fast they sprouted in our back yard.

That is about one-third of our emptied boxes, which we threw into the backyard to make more room. Then Mother Nature thought it would be funny to let it start raining. I'm still laughing.

And I guess like Christmas can be, the whole day was stressful and overwhelming.

The delivery truck arrived around 10 a.m.ish with four sheds...er crates, and perhaps six Spanish-speaking Mexicans to unload them. Then the parade of boxes begins. One by one, a Mexican brings a box through the front door, angles it so one of us can see how it was labeled, and then make a decision on where they should take it. In Spanish. Of course, as good as our pack-out guys were, they didn't always do the best job labeling the boxes. And after the first two sheds...er, crates, were unloaded, it became more a matter of just finding space for them.

Then the real fun begins, which I suppose this is the "Christmas part" begins. The joy of opening and unwrapping all of the boxes. Oh, and the trying to find a place for everything.

Now maybe it was the past two months of living mostly out of suitcases and the welcome kit, but I grew accustom to living a bit of a minimalist lifestyle. I kind of miss those days already.

Don't get me wrong, I like a lot of my stuff. But if I forgot we owned it, odds are we really don't need it, or probably don't really want it. Kind of wish we would have taken more time going through our things before the packers arrived so we could have moved more things into storage.

For example, we have three sugar bowls and cream pitchers. I like my coffee black, and Natalie seldom drinks it. And speaking of Christmas, we have Christmas-themed salt and pepper shakers. Actually, I think we have an entire Christmas-themed kitchen that will be stored somewhere until December arrives and put away after New Year's Day.

I like to remember my Christmases as a big breakfast, opening of gifts, and then playing with the new toys and enjoying some family time. Yesterday was a little heavy on the gift-opening and a little light on all of the fun parts of Christmas.

But hey, I got my coffee back, so all and all, it was a good day.

Air Freight Nightmares

Before I delve too deep into our lessons learned about packing air freight, let me first call your attention to a new page to EF'M. It has a permanent link in the left column with the disclaimers, but it essentially is a list of hated, and thus replaced, State acronyms and phrases. Instead of typing out "air freight (EF'M no longer recognizes the use of UAB)" every time, I'll just link back to this page.

Moving on, we failed miserably in packing our air freight. Which is doubly embarrassing considering we drove to post meaning we should have had amble space for bringing necessities to Hermosillo.

Part of the problem stems from the fact that we made too many assumptions about the welcome kit. For example, we left behind our toaster and coffee maker thinking those would have to be in a welcome kit. I'm also wishing we would have brought a cookie sheet or two as well become some frozen food just doesn't microwave well.

Alas, we are toaster, coffee and baked goods-less for the next month or so. In fact, our kitchen is quite bare and makes cooking a dreadful, unfulfilling task. I didn't realize how much I love my gadgets and seasonings until I've been asked to cook without them.

"But you guys had 450 pounds and a car load. What did you pack?" you might ask. And a good question. Also by not knowing our welcome kit, we've doubled (and tripled) up on some items. For example, our government-issued bed came with bedding. So did we. Two sets of bedding, actually. But wanting to use government bedding is understandable, I suppose.

The welcome kit also came with towels. So did we. Almost our entire linen closet made it here, actually. This was part of the problem with our pack-out plan. Natalie was in charge of the air freight while I kept an eye on everything else. And we didn't really do a good job of prioritizing our possessions.

That, and Natalie really likes clothes. And she brought everything except her dead-of-winter wardrobe. The good news is that she has her Emmitt Smith Cowboys jersey I haven't seen her wear ever. And at least two bath robes, including the heavy one, which is so necessary in the desert in the summer. She also really likes hangers. I'd estimate that we packed about 30 pounds of hangers. (The welcome kit also had about 20 of those.)

I shouldn't pick on her too much, though, because I probably went a little over board on the clothes as well. I brought all of my dress pants because it is important to be dressed while sweeping sand and doing dishes.

We also had to take care of Tiffy by packing a 50 pound bag of dog food in our air freight even though we were driving with about 30 pounds or so in the car. Better safe than sorry, I suppose, but I highly doubt we'll be opening another 50-pound bag of dog food before our ground/surface/sea freight arrives.

There are a few success stories, however. We had our desktop computer and printer sent in the air freight. For anyone else shipping a printer, it is a good idea to remove the ink cartridges before it is sealed because I guess those tend to leak when jostled about.

I also smuggled one frying pan, spatula and pizza cutter without Natalie knowing. When I told her, she was a bit annoyed, until we started using it. The welcome kit does come with some pots and pans, but I would hate to rely on these for much more than boiling water. They are on the thin side, and I couldn't imagine trying to cook anything like a chicken breast on it because the outside would get crispy well before the inside would be done.

The major lessons learned are this. You don't need nearly as much clothes as you think you do. You'll have a washer and dryer after all. And get to know your welcome kit. I wouldn't ask the post what is in it, because it is a pretty long list. Rather, ask specific questions, such as, "Is there a coffee maker in the welcome kit?" That should not take the people working at the post quite as long to determine.

Good luck to those of you who have pack-out day on the horizon, and please learn from our mistakes.

Pack-out Diaries, Epilogue

Dear Pack-out Diary,

After 15 hours total, the movers/packers wiped their hands clean of dealing with us. All of our possessions, save for those we can carry in our car, are in some remote location, hopefully starting the 2,500 mile journey to Mexico.

I've got a few leftover items that didn't make it into yesterday's post, and a few other observations from our experience to wrap this series up.

First, someone who knows a lot more about etiquette than I needs to put together a comprehensive book on the rules of tipping. I'm at a loss on this topic. There really isn't rhyme or reason to what is a good tip and who you tip.

For example, the first time a gas station attendant pumped my gas, I felt obligated to tip him, so I gave him $2. He looked surprised. I told my dad the story, and he said that is because you don't tip gas station attendants. Why not? We tip bell hops for flagging down a cab or moving our bags on a rolling luggage rack.

So, yesterday morning as the movers/packers were finishing the job, Natalie called Free Studies Inside (FSI) to get their advice (Natalie edit: actually, it was the travel office), because we felt like tipping here seemed appropriate. Plus, as I mentioned yesterday, we liked these guys; even the schmuck was a nice guy. (Though our opinion is subject to change depending on the status of stuff when we get it.)

The word that came down from FSI is that the government doesn't cover tipping the workers, and that often times, people provide food and drink for the workers. That would have been good to know during the first day of packing, but not so helpful during the second day. (And to add insult to injury, not only did we not buy them lunch, we ate our lunch in front of them...we aren't bad people, just ignorant on these matters.)

So we tipped each of the three movers $40 at the end of day yesterday. I have no idea if that what was cheap or overly generous, but I say that compares pretty favorably to a $10 lunch. Though they probably didn't feel that way on the first day of packing.

Also during the first day of packing we had lots of visitors. The State Department sent over an inspector, which was surprising because we didn't ask for one. He was a very nice guy and gave us one good piece of advice. Buy a guest book for our travels. The moving/packing company also sent an inspector.

I don't really have tips for how to prepare for pack-out other than it seems that unless you dedicate an absurd amount of time sorting through every thing, you won't ever be 100% ready. We were ready enough that our air freight shipment (I now consider UAB obsolete) has most of our necessities. Though the ratio ended up something like this: Natalie - 350 pounds; Tiffy - 60 pounds; EF'M - 40 pounds. I guess this was my penance for poorly overseeing Al's pack-out.

If we had this move to do all over again, I suppose I'd spend more time preparing our air freight. That is probably the only good, over-arching piece of advice I can offer.

The thing is is that every one's situation is different. For us, about 80% of our items were going ground/surface/sea (so long to HHE, too). For non-local hires, I'm guessing there is a lot more going into storage.

Pack-out Diaries, Chapter 3

Dear Pack-out Diary,

This morning marks Day 2 of the pack-out, and I'm waiting for the call that the mover/packers are here to finish the job.

Before I get any further, I apologize in advance if I come across particularly caustic this morning as I didn't sleep well two nights ago - nervous about the pack-out, I presume - nor did I sleep well last night either - our alarm clock went off in our super-secret hidden bunker that will be our home for the next week. Mind you, we didn't set; rather the previous guests did. But I'll save my complaints for a later post, and to be fair, I'll wait a little longer than one night to give my impressions of this place.

Instead, I'll turn my Righteous Laser Beam of Justice (patent pending) toward yesterday's events as well as previous events that led to yesterday's results.

First, I liked our movers/packers, which is good because we spent 12 hours together. There were three of them, and one was very nice and helpful. The second was quiet, but he appeared to be working very hard. The third was a bit of schmuck, but he was helpful in the beginning in explaining to Natalie that she had about 2,000 pounds of stuff marked for UAB.

Second, I've heard several stories about over-aggressive packers that wrap up everything from garbage to cats quicker than the foreign service family can keep up with them. This definitely was not our experience. We began with the Post-its system, but after our UAB was ready, which happened quickly, it essentially morphed into a pile system. All of our storage stuff, which wasn't much, was piled on one of the couches going to storage. That, and large furniture items in the bedroom and living room were for storage. Everything else must go! And the bathroom was off limits for packing.

After several hours of packing and loading, Natalie and I started finding several items that had not been packed. Most of them were in the bedroom where the schmuck was working, but there were a few items all over the place. But we did get everything we wanted packed eventually.

Third, I raised a question before about pack-out privacy, which wasn't a problem for us, but many comments pointed out that these guys have seen everything during their careers so there isn't any judging. In fact, while talking with the guy working the kitchen, he said he often gets asked about the strangest things he packed. Well, we added something new to that list. That is all I'm going to say about said item; it was in the kitchen.

Fourth, during about the eighth hour of pack-out, I asked our kitchen guy how many pack-outs he does a week. They work five days a week, which is shocking considering they were in the midst of 12-hour day. He explained that they receive a worksheet every day they start a new job describing the estimated weight, number of workers and how many days the job is.

As I described earlier, the guy with the magic calculator estimated it was a two-day job. By the time that information filtered down to our three packers/movers, it morphed into a one-day job. Well, at some point during the day, they called to say one day was impossible. Typically in jobs like the one we had, they would arrive and pack one day, and move everything the next.

Finally, one of my continuing complaints is stupid acronyms. I've been a part of two pack-outs now, and during the pack-out, I've never heard anyone say "UAB" or "HHE." The movers don't use these expressions. I'm not entirely sure they even know what HHE means.

Why does the State Department instill this vocabulary into its employees when at the time it matters most - pack-out - the people packing stuff don't use these terms.

UAB = "air freight" or "air"
HHE = "ground freight," "sea" and/or "surface"

There are probably more terms the movers use, but these are the ones I've heard in two pack-outs. State, please stop using UAB and HHE! It only confuses things. If you must use acronyms, which I don't think you do in this case, let the movers pick them.

Pack-out Diaries, Chapter 2

Dear Pack-out Diary,

There is a common expression about the calm before the storm. Not in this house. It has been the storm before the storm before the calm before the storm. Or something like that...if it made any sense.

We spent the end of last week shopping at Target, PetSmart and TJ Max for some last minute items before the mover/packers come on Wednesday.

We also started sorting in preparation of the movers. Natalie created an ingenious scheme for labeling what items are going in Unpredictably Arriving Baggage (UAB), Hauling Hindered Extra (HHE) and storage by using different colored post-its. Though apparently it wasn't quite fail safe.



Speaking of Tiffy, we also took her to the vet one last time to get her rabies updated and to get some paperwork complete to bring her across the border. To make sure we have all of our t's dotted and i's crossed (umm...whatever), we are going to mail away for an FDA document to get signed. We should be in good shape without it, but the consequences would be too dire to come up short on paperwork. The vet told us about someone who had to have their dog shipped back to the vet, which they had to pay for, then pay to have the dog kenneled at the vet while the paperwork got done, and then pay to fly the dog to the new locale.

Tiffy also has an appointment to get one more haircut before we leave. We want it cut short, but not too short that she will be susceptible to sunburn. I hope the groomer knows what she's doing.

To maximize our car space, we invested in a hard-top roof-top cargo box. It locks into place by screws on the bottom of the inside of the box, so first we brought the box into our apartment to see how much we could fit into it. Then we took all of that stuff out to lock the box on top of the car rack. And then we loaded everything back in. The whole process was very tiring, especially for Natalie.

Getting near the end of getting our affairs in order, I cut my brother's plant down to size to take it over to some sort of retirement home in the neighborhood. They were appreciative of the donation, and I was equally glad - if not more so - to find a home for the plant as opposed to having to throw it out.

Only two more days until the real chaos begins, and then we get the week of respite before the long drive. It can't happen soon enough.

Pack-out Diaries, Chapter 1

Dear Pack-out Diary,

Yesterday marked the unofficial beginning of our packing out of Crystal City. (I suppose the official start was some weeks ago when we scheduled this thing).

First, my obsessive-compulsive-lite wife wanted to record all of our possessions on video, which at first I was dreading as I thought she was going to want to go through everything item by item. "Here is a sock. Here is it's partner." Fortunately, we moved quickly scanning through stuff and got done in about 10 minutes or so.

Then a man from the moving company arrived with a magic calculator. We showed him around; told him what was going to Mexico, to storage and to garbage. After about a 20-minute tour, he pressed the "Go" button, whipped out a tiny printer, and produced a report claiming we own about 6,200 pounds of stuff, not counting our car and the stuff getting pitched. And considering much of our furniture is going into storage (bedroom furniture and our old, ugly couches), we will be shipping a very light load with us.

The man also declared we would need two days and he would send over three packers/movers.

Now we are down to our final six days of being with our things before it is taken from us, but we have a lot of shopping to get done to bolster that poundage a bit.

Which starts now...

Recalibrating Normal

The past week, well, the past few months, have been all sorts of different.

It seems as though we always are coming or going, or going and coming, hosting guests or parties, or being guests somewhere or the guests of honor at a party. Non-stop since Natalie passed her Spanish test.

I found myself doing some dishes in the midst of the pandemonium , warn out, and thinking to myself, "I can't wait until things finally settle down some and return to normal."

As soon as that thought crossed my mind, it quickly was replaced with the thought that my old sense of normal is probably obsolete. I need to recalibrate my sense of normal.

Between now and June 30, when the movers come, we will be busy preparing for the pack out as well as tying up a few loose ends.

After June 30, life definitely won't be normal because all of our things will be gone, and we'll be living out of suitcases in a hotel within view of our old apartment, which will be empty save for a few cleaning and painting supplies.

Then there is the six-day drive to Mexico.

And then a new life awaits south of the border in a land in which I won't be able to talk to the vast majority of the people and the temperature will be flirting with 120 degrees F. And that will be as close to my old version of normal as I will come for the next two years, so in order to avoid depression and the fear of the unknown, I'll be needing to rethink normal.

At least I am conscious of all of these changes. Poor Tiffy is about to go through all of these changes without any concept of what the hell is going on.

EFM: Essentially, a Fraction of a Man

Reality can be harsh. And in the past couple of days, I've learned that for reimbursement purposes, the government doesn't think much of me. I've always had my suspicions - hell, it is kind of the basis of this blog - but I found out exactly how the government views Extra Filing Management (EFM) - 75%.

Beginning with the black-hole period between June 30 (pack-out) and July 9 (exodus day), we will be existing in a state of purgatory sans a home. During this time, the government will be boarding us (thanks, taxpayers!) based on a rate in which Natalie counts as a whole person, and I count as 75% of a person.

And as an extra slap in the face, on July 1, the government will be reducing this per-diem reimbursement significantly. So June 30 will be a good day for us financially, but the remaining week or so will be a little bit tighter.

This is as good of a time as any other, I suppose, to point out the errors in the government's per diem philosophy. It is so faulty, in fact, that the government actually agrees with me.

When we check out of our hotel and start driving on July 9, the reimbursement/per diem policy changes.

In D.C., we get a lump sum per diem that covers food and shelter, which is determined on the rate that Natalie is a whole person and I'm only 75% of her. This is known as the predeparture subsistence expenses allowance, which is a piece of the greater foreign transfer allowance.

But as soon as we started heading in the direction of Hermosillo, we get switched to a second reimbursement rate, or as I like to call it, the one that actually makes sense. This is supposed to be covered in the Department of State Standardized Regulations (DSSR) section 925, but it isn't done very well, if at all. I'm not too sure what I'm reading in that section as the one thing worse than the government's use of acronyms is its use of jargon.

Instead of charging taxpayers for unknown lodging expenses, we have to keep hotel receipts and get reimbursed for actual expenditures. And then we also get a food per diem in which Natalie is a whole person and I get to eat 75% of what she eats. Though, when it comes to eating, Natalie is more like 25% of a person and I'm more in the range of 100% to 125%.

Fortunately, I'm older than 12, or I wouldn't count as a person. And, in the same vein, it is beneficial that we don't have any children. Anyone older than 12 after the first 75% of a person only counts as 50% of a person.

EFM: Exodus Finalization in Motion

UPDATE
Apologies to anyone who was drawn into believing the below statement about VP Biden calling us. It was a joke playing on this gaffe.

ORIGINAL POST
A big thank you to all of the well wishers from yesterday's big announcement. Natalie was flattered. In fact, we received a phone call from no one less than our illustrious veep, Joe Biden, himself who wanted to tell Natalie that her achievement was "a big effin deal."

But now we have to start looking forward to the next steps. And they are many.

We need to prep for pack-out by taking our own inventory of our stuff and then mark with different colored post-its to indicate which shipment the items are going. We also need to do a dry run of packing our car before the movers get here so we know what we can take.

Tiffy is going back to the groomer to get her desert-style haircut - short enough to keep her relatively cool, but long enough to protect her skin from the sun. Though Tiffy and I have discussed this, and we've both determined that from about 11 a.m. to about 5 p.m., we are just going to lay naked and sprawled on the floor to keep cool.

I also need to get a copy of Tiffy's immunization records while we ourselves still need to get our shots to go to Mexico.

I'm still finalizing our driving route to post, and we are in the middle of the application process for a SENTRI pass. We know my disdain for acronyms, but a brief round of applause for this clever, cool-sounding name. Though I'm pretty certain the Border Patrol was hell bent on using SENTRI or SENTRY for this pass, and then just decided what the letters would stand for after the fact. They came up with Secure Electronic Network for Travelers' Rapid Inspection, so yeah, it is kind of a long way of describing a border SmartPass. Still, I'm a fan of this acronym, though I'm a little skeptical that such a program is a good idea. I'll need to experience a border crossing, but it seems that in matters of entering the United States, we should all just accept the fact that it is going to be a hassle in the name of national security.

One last note on the SENTRI pass. There is a 66-page instruction manual on how to fill out the application. Filling out the application took me about 30 minutes as there are several steps, but 66 pages of instructions seemed a bit excessive. After all, our state department friends already in Hermosillo were able to sum up what we can expect life to be like there for two years in a 66-page welcome manual.

We also need to make our final purchases before pack-out, which includes a new television. If I'm going to be watching people I don't understand on TV, I would at least like it to be on a large flat screen instead of my "3D" TV that I bought right before I started my freshmen year of college. I call it "3D" because the screen is rounded out...do they even make TV sets like that anymore?

And yes, that is soccer...er...futbol on my TV screen. I confess I've been drawn to watching these games, or at least have the TV set to these games while I go about my business. I've been watching/listening to the games on InVision (not Telemundo as I errantly said last time) because I love listening to the excitement by the announcers. I don't care who wins, just as long as there are many goals scored because listening to the announcers celebrate every goal like the team just won the championship makes me smile. Sadly, most games have been 0-0, 1-0 or 1-1, which makes for a lot of down time between goals.

We also need to load up on other items such as peanut butter, dog treats, cleaning supplies and toilet paper. I am fearful of a world in Mexico in which all they sell is single ply as we've been warned that the quality is not the same. That, and I've seen on TV that Americans use more pounds of toilet paper per person than any other country. Rationalizing, I figure that is because we use more double ply than the rest of the world, but that is merely speculation.

So we still have a lot on our plate. Yeah, the hard stuff is over Natalie, but we'd be kidding ourselves to think that everything else will fall into place on its own.

Pack-out Privacy

Before this month is over, we will have our pack-out day. So naturally, I've been racking my brain about everything that could possibly happen.

During the process, for the uninitiated, contractors come and pack all of our things and take inventory of what is being packed in each box (sort of) and where the box is headed and in which shipment it is traveling.

Ever since friends, family and co-workers learned we were moving to Mexico, nary a week would go by without someone asking me if we had started packing yet. To which I would explain that taxpayers are footing the bill. I believe this has to do with keeping track who is at fault for something breaking during the move, and/or to make sure we aren't taking anything illegal with us. Just guesses, but they seem logical, and in the end, it doesn't really matter why.

Then everyone responds how great that is because packing is this worst part about moving.

True enough, but just as I'm not too keen about having a stranger wash my underwear, I've been growing a little more hesitant about the prospect of having strangers going through my things.

I guess I need to pose the question to those who've (is that a real contraction?) been through this before. Is there any level of privacy during pack-out? Can I pre-pack a box or two and mark it "miscellaneous" without movers checking it out? Or is everything we owned subject to scrutiny?

One Thing I Know (and a few thoughts)

Hand me a stone tablet; I have some information ready to be etched down.

On second thought, I've never used a chisel. The Internet will have to do.

We scheduled our pack-out day, and now I can lay claim to real knowledge as opposed to fool's knowledge. I know what day the movers are coming for our things.

Which, of course, could cause a problem. Because while we know when the contractors will bring the boxes, we don't know if Natalie will pass her Spanish exam on the first go around. We have a pretty good idea, but what we don't know.

It kind of makes me wonder who is writing the policies and guidelines of being a foreign service officer. I hope it is not the same people who are writing the policies and guidelines of foreign diplomacy.

By now, the world knows my disdain for the acronyms used during the moving process (I'm looking at you, UAB and HHE). Well, here is yet another aspect of moving that doesn't make any sense. Why do we need to schedule a pack-out day before we know when we are leaving (OK, we have a date, but it also is dependent on passing Spanish)? How does this make any sense?

I suppose "putting the cart before the horse" isn't considered a warning to proceed in logical order; rather, it is considered an instruction manual.

Anyway, I'm glad to have knocked out one practice run (at a friend's expense), so hopefully our turn will go smoothly...I think I just heard the collective foreign service community chuckle.

We do have the advantage of filling a car with the really, really important things, and we are in the process of adding a roof-top cargo container and rack on our compact sedan to compensate for the loss of our backseat for transporting Tiffy.

House Keeping Note:
When I first started this blog, I spent some time looking for other blogs to follow, and then added a few as they found me. In other words, I got lazy and content. While not necessarily one of my aims when I got started, I learned quickly that the foreign service has an extensive blogosphere, and it is a great way to learn from others and make contacts.

So I've added a lot of blogs to my follow list, and I figure that will continue to grow over the next few days. I'm mostly only adding and following other Entertaining, Functioning Manuscriptists (EFM-written blogs that get updated with some regularity...maybe an acronym was a bad idea there).

A special thanks to Life After Jerusalem for keeping such an extensive and well-organized list of bloggers. She provides a great tool for following other bloggers.

A Friday Two-fer

Yesterday was a busy day, so you're getting two items for the price of one!

Pack-out Practice
I did our good friend Al (from the cleverly named "You Can Call Me Al" blog) a favor by letting the movers come in his place and start packing while he was at Frustrating Scheduling Inconvenience (FSI). I also did Al the disfavor of not knowing what was going on, and thankfully he arrived before it was too late.

Without going into too much detail, let's just say his summer clothes wouldn't have arrived a little later than his winter clothes, and he is going to Belize in a few weeks. I doubt hilarity would have ensued, but at least he will have three ice scrapers! (Al, three ice scrapers for Belize?)

Being a local hire, I haven't had the benefit of experiencing a pack-out yet, so this was a good trial run for me, and fortunately, Al was able to correct my mistakes.

That said, the obvious flaws of the system were apparent. The terms UAB and HHE are grossly inefficient. The movers just want to get everything in boxes, and with a couple of them working at once against one inexperienced me, I was destined to do a shoddy job. Sorry Al, and I think it only fair that when Natalie and I visit you in Belize, we will pack some winter clothes, too.

Also, don't bother stocking up on aerosol cans and cleaning supplies, but the movers can't pack that stuff.

Hermosillo Group Re-convenes, sort of
Back in February, a sizable contingent headed to Hermosillo met for lunch so we get all spend a little time to get the first greetings out of the way.

Yesterday, we reconvened with a few exceptions. We lost some members who have left already for post, and we picked up a few newbies. And thirdly, one of our members got transferred to Merida. Obviously, life isn't fair.

I was blind-sided a little when one of the new faces announced that she reads EF'M (thanks for the reference Travel Orders.) I've enjoyed blogging so far, but largely, I've been writing to a faceless audience. For me, at least, it becomes more daunting as I meet readers. I think I hold back a little when I know someone can call me out.

If nothing else, at least we appear to have a good group assembling in Hermosillo. It's only been a single meeting in most cases, but everyone seems pleasant enough, and I'm not just saying that because I know at least one might stop by and read this...or am I? You'll never know, now that I might be pulling a few more punches!

EFM: Extricating Floral Memento

As a continuation to yesterday's less-than-serious ponderings of relocating (and massive consumption) of alcohol, I do have one lingering concern about what migration means for my possessions.

For the most part, we don't own much of value. Other than electronics, I think our most valuable possession in monetary terms is our bed set, so it isn't like we have a lot of hard decisions as we prepare for pack out day. Cheap furniture, books and a lot of winter clothes go into storage. Most everything else is coming with us because there isn't that much more. One of the benefits of never owning a home is that we got pretty good about limiting our possessions. Space, or lack there of, dictated that.

But we do have personal items that while limited or entirely lacking monetary value hold a great deal of sentimental value. How many family photos do we want to take to Mexico to make Hermosillo feel like home? All? Doubtful, because there always is the lingering risk that something happens to our shipments or our new home. Fortunately, many of our photos are backed up on the Internet and hard drives as they have been taken on digital cameras.

Some possessions do have some monetary value, but the sentimental or personal value greatly outweigh that. For example, Natalie has some of her mother's jewelry, and she would be just sick of anything happened to it. I have a basketball signed by the 1996 University of Kentucky championship basketball team that I didn't even want to bring to D.C. with me. I have no idea what the ball is worth (several of those players went on to the NBA probably increasing its value), but it remains one of my most prized possessions and I would never think of selling it.

All of those items, however, store pretty well. They're relatively small, and they don't need any care. The same can't be said for my brother's tree.

In 2004, my younger 22-year-old brother died. My parent's home turned into a greenhouse over the next couple of days as friends and family had potted plants sent there. A tradition I really don't understand.

I was living in southeast Ohio at the time, and to lighten the load (and save one more plant from being disposed...there is only so much room for plants in one household), I decided to take one small plant with me back home. It probably was no taller than six inches at the time.

The plant moved from Ohio to D.C. with me in 2005, still a smallish shrub, but it was growing to maybe a foot and a half. In D.C., with a little help from Miracle Gro, it shot up several feet. And when we left D.C. for northern Virginia in 2007, the plant barely made the move with us. As it only had to travel a few miles and we needed to rent a moving van for our furniture anyway, the plant was able to move with us.

Now towering at probably 10 feet (it is hard to gauge, and it already has hit the ceiling and is now growing horizontally), I know the plant can't come to Mexico with us. At least in its current state. My mom, who knows much more about plants than I do, thinks I can lop off the top portions to make it more mover friendly. Then new limbs will start to grow, she said.

Truth is, I'm not overly concerned about the tree being able to move to Mexico with us. I have other, more meaningful objects that remind me of my brother. But I don't want the thing to be merely discarded. I'll look into trimming it and seeing if that makes it movable, but otherwise, the only other solution I can think of is trying to find some place to plant it. (Though Mom thinks it will die in the winter if I do that.)

I've moved on that I don't need this plant sentimentally, but it would bring some piece of mind to know that the plant will live on.

A Hodge Podge Kind of Day

Too much going on these days that I'm going to have to bust out some bullet points to cover events. But I'll lead off with some highlights from last night's Fatiguing, Self-Inflicted (FSI) course on the logistics of moving overseas.

First, let me say that I did learn some good pointers about preparing for the movers. Piles, people. From anecdotal evidence, the movers pack everything in site, so you're best off creating piles of things you want packed together. Some examples included the movers packing a family's garbage, which they received with their second shipment*. Another funny story was about a cat getting packed. Fortunately, depending on your perspective, they realized the cat was packed before boxes left the building and were able to get it out**.

*I plan on addressing this more later, but the State Department uses the expressions (and acronyms) unaccompanied baggage (UAB) and household effects (HHE) to denote the two shipments of luggage you receive after arriving at your post. Wouldn't be a lot easier just to call them the first and second shipment? That seems less confusing.

**I like animals, even cats. But cats make terrible pets. Sorry, it's just how it is. If a house cat weighed 90 pounds instead of 9 pounds, it would eat you. Even at 9 pounds, cats spend most of the day thinking if they could fit you in their mouth. As an historical side note to this, cats are last animal that have been domesticated (dogs were the first), so maybe in another 50,000 years, they'll make for better pets.

So while the class had some good stuff, the main pitfall was that it was too general to be applicable. And I noted as much on my evaluation. Maybe start with the general stuff and then break into groups that will have similar pack-out day experiences. For example, the people moving to China will have a different experience - and therefore need different information - than those of us driving to Canada or Mexico. Or maybe create courses called The Logistics of Moving Overseas...in (X Country).

To wrap up, so far I haven't had great FSI experiences, but I'll keep going if for no other reason than to get more material to write about. That's right, I'll keep sacrificing my own time for you, the readers. Now let's tackle some bullets:

• First a shout-out to my local in-laws, and regular EF'M readers, Eric and Mindy, for taking Natalie and me to a Wizards game Monday night. I'm not much into the NBA, but seeing a game in person is an entirely different and more enjoyable experience than watching it on TV. Secondly, as bad as the Wizards have been the past two years, when I attend the game, they've gone something like 5-1. (Wizards, you should treat me to every game, and maybe you'd win more.) We plan on returning the favor by taking Eric and Mindy to a Naranjeros baseball game when they come to Hermosillo (2010 Mexican Pacific League Campeones! That is number 15, baby!)

• A member of our Hermosillo contingent had a baby boy earlier this week, so congratulations are in order.

• You probably won't be getting any weekend updates because Natalie and I are going to Charlottesville, Va., to hit up some wineries and Monticello with another couple. We created a list of things we wanted to do while living in Virginia, and this has been on there for a long time. And we realize this is not the last time we'll be living in this area, but this is kind of a farewell-see-ya-later tour that we are doing because we are foreign service rookies, and this is the kind of things rookies do.

• And finally, there is a new, unofficial countdown as Natalie received word from the Hermosillo Consulate that they would like her first day to be June 28. This moving thing keeps becoming more real every day.