My daughter and her family have moved again. They've moved out of the tiny little place they've been in since they were married. Since Barry came, they've been looking for a new place. There just wasn't room in that place for a crawling baby.
So, they've moved out of a slummy little motel apartment, to a trailer on top of a hill with no trees and a hill drive, muddy when wet.
But, there's ROOM there. Room to live, to play, to stretch out, to put things away. A place where everything they owned wasn't lined up against the wall in boxes.
So, we helped them move, just after the second snowstorm of the season, and therefore the coldest and snowiest weekend of the winter.
Well, it might not have been the COLDEST, but it was cold enough.
Zane's things in the middle bedroom. They changed it up and Barry is in that room now, but Zane's things are still the same in the end bedroom.
Putting together the table, a REAL table to eat on.
Barry was quite content to play while the business of moving was going on.
Look! He's reaching for toys!
The living room. Tidied up.
But, not the bedroom. Not today.
I didn't help with the moving, I watched the boys while the men loaded and unloaded. Lorene was working, and then I made supper, while the unpacking was going on.