To market, to market to use my fine bag!

Because it's depressing to even think of taking pictures of our little apartment yet, and because I can't bare to bore you with the details of unpacking, I'm choosing to write about something a little more fun and colorful.

Don't you dare think that just because I haven't posted any progress posts on my knitting projects that it's not on my mind! I've been dying to pull my knitting projects out of their packed boxes and get started on a new project.

For now, Toula has to be put on hold. Unfortunately, there are some kinks in the pattern that I've found, but I have no idea how to unkinkify them. I wrote the creator of the pattern and asked for her help in figuring everything out, but she hasn't gotten back with me for a couple months now. :( So, I'm recycling all of the yarn from Toula (yes, I will frown as she unravels) and creating a new project that will be far more useful than a sweater in the summertime.

Introducing... The Market Bag!


Here in Moultrie, we've got a great Farmers Market for the selection of fresh local fruits (cantaloupes! watermelons! peaches!), nuts (peanuts! pecans!), and vegetables (squash! zucchini! pumpkins!). For a mere $5, anyone with homegrown produce or sale-worthy crafts can rent a table and sell their goods. I'm seeing some early Saturday mornings in my future. Why not carry my own bags, ready to tote home all the fresh grillin' zucchini I can handle? (Mmmmmmm.) Who knows, maybe some day I'll dish out 5 whole dollars and rent my own table to sell the bags.... The Market Bag is a nice, comfortable size that can have a short handle or a shoulder strap. It's also nice and stretchy, so it'll expand to hold plenty of homegrown goodies (or, knitting projects!) without everything spilling over the open top.


Now, I'm not sure exactly how long this bag will take to finish, but I'm guessing that it won't take too long. Seems simple enough, no? Because I purchased seven or eight skeins of yarn to knit up Little Miss Toula, I should be able to finish 7-8 Market Bags! All the yarn is pure cotton (washable in case of any tomato explosions!). I should get three bags in a bright spring green, one creamy white, one bag in a poppy red, one bag in an on-the-blue-side-of-the-color periwinkle, and one bag in a lighter periwinkle color.


Getting started... now!

The Drive

I can honestly say with 99% assurance that I will never move across country again. Unless the entire eastern half of the United States falls off the face of the planet, I'm staying put. Our drive from Arizona to Georgia was complete within two days.


You may ask, "Trisha, how many miles was that drive?"

"Why, just a simple and straight 2017 miles," I'll reply.


But even one mile driven simple and straight can be, well, quite dull. Now multiply that 2017 times, and suddenly a simple and straight 2017 mile drive is no easy task. Especially when you're in the car with no one but a nervous and uncomfortable pup to talk to. I drove my MINI with the pup in the front passenger seat. Carlton drove his Nissan and zoned out while listening to a book on tape and following the little red ZipZip in front of him.


Now you might be wondering, "Trisha, if you drove 2017 miles in two days all by yourself while the Hub listened to a book on tape, how did you stay awake and keep yourself entertained?"

"Well," I would so pridefully answer, "on Day 1 of our drive through Texas, I discovered an All-Aerosmith-All-The-Time radio station. SCORE! Now imagine to yourself, My Inquisitive Friend, my relief when I realized that the nervous little pup next to me would calm down when I sang aloud in the car. And then imagine my immediate giggle-worthy reaction to my own silly self as I realized I was having fun when I made funny faces to the beat of the music... Steven Tyleresque faces. And then, when my face got tired, Curious Friend, I sang in the most obnoxious opera voice I could muster."

Being alone in a straight-driving car for that long will lead a girl to do some crazy things.


By 6:00 am on Saturday we left our house in Scottsdale, Arizona and wheeled out onto I-10 (which eventually puked out into I-20). Then some time around 1:00 am we arrived in Fort Worth, Texas and stayed for the night. By 9:00 am we hit 80 mph once again, and stopped in Macon, Georgia at my best friend Chelsea's for the night around 10:30. I woke up around 8:00 am with the pup and let Carlton sleep until about 10:30 (thanks, Chels, for letting us take our time that morning!). My sister met us there and followed us the last 2 hours down to our final destination, and our new home, Moultrie, Georgia.

*Finally-Content Sigh.*

On the road again

Well not quite yet, but this lovely 27' package showed up this morning:


Oh, dear, this is totally intimidating.

eww.

forgive the transitional mess. trying to find something pretty to look at.

The sale stats

I was really excited about posting our yard sale online, especially because it was a free service. (Thanks for the info, Nesting Place, I'll always go to that site to advertise and look up sales!). I was ready for visitors roaring for our sleeper sofa and mattress set. I was prepared to sell a few things that would hurt to go, but would help with the move and were not necessarily needed or used anymore.

We made almost $300 without selling our souls... or the mattress... or the sofa. But these $300, well, they're $300 we didn't have before we sold everything except this:


I'd call it a success, especially because I was complimented on my talent for sign placement and directional assistance! These neon yellow arrows and large letters were complimented by an avid yard sale-er, who complained of having to give up on possible great deals all too often because of poor signage.


I was sad to sell an entire set (plus a piece) of cute girl luggage for $28, but hey, that's major cash at a yard sale, and those suitcases and purses had just about seen their last days. Two young sisters who like to play "airplane" will love these pretty and sophisticated "toys" for a while.

A large rattan chair and side table went for a healthy $25. I'm still sad that they're gone, because I've had them since I was a little girl. But they were starting to give up on life a little, and a model home staging associate purchased them to spray paint and stage on one of her company's properties.

Don't cry, Vicki, but that 5 gallon vat of Ben Moore beige/yellow paint you gave to us, which never made it onto the walls because it was oil base, went for $20 to a very happy Hispanic husband and wife. They also got a great deal on a DVD player ($5) and like-new sewing machine ($50).

Lots of bulky, never-warn, and never-to-be-warn-again-in-south-Georgia winter sweaters went for $1 each, and I was glad to see them go.

Another Hispanic lady wanted to purchase my set of drinking glasses, but I couldn't bare the thought of drinking from Dixie cups until another sale hits Crate&Barrel kitchen goods. So the glasses stayed.

One guy proudly toted our beloved Coleman charcoal grill to the bed of his pickup truck after only paying $8 for it.

An iron with a scratchy point (the very tip on the front of the ironing surface) sold for $5. It got dropped, the tip got scratched from the fall, and so it made tiny little pulls on delicate clothes. I just bought a new one a few weeks ago, so with the $5 "reimbursement" from the old iron, I only paid $24.99 for my new appliance. Hooray! Also, that annoying hang-over-the-door ironing board went for $4, and the pad was all burned and really thin. So technically I have a new $24.99 iron and no board to iron it on, but hey, it doesn't scratch up my clothes.

Too bad we didn't have the original Nintendo or Sega games for that 20-year-old guy with the Ipod in his snap-up thrift store shirt pocket and "tragic" hairstyle.

And then there was my drafting table. Oh, that drafting table. It was my beloved, my friend, my enemy, my crutch for four very tough years. It withstood move-ins and move-homes and move-backs-into-crappy-apartments. It survived a move into a newlywed apartment in Buford, and a move across country to Scottsdale, Arizona. It loved a good Windex wipe-off and held onto just enough paint to make me happy that it had been used well. It served well, with its little catch-all open art bin attached to the side, as a large and in charge sewing table, cutting table, and crafting table. I staged a number of blog photos atop its pristine white surface. And now it's paying for about 10 gallons of gas to send me back home. Oh drafting table, my drafting table, how I will miss thee. (Okay, okay, so maybe I sold my soul just a little in this case.)

The 7' tall shutters didn't sell. Mostly because I priced them at $40 and wouldn't budge for even our lovely neighbor. I like how they look as the headboard of a bed, or to cover an otherwise naked wall. They don't take up a lot of space in the moving truck, anyway. :)

Carlton's beloved toaster oven didn't sell. For some reason, the Hubster loves that toaster oven. It probably didn't sell because I didn't feel like cleaning out all the cinnamon raisin and cheese toast crusty crumbs from the bottom. Hub is pleased.

So to all the things we sold, thank you. And to all the things we didn't, PLEASE, I'M BEGGING YOU, PACK EASILY, LIGHTLY, AND QUICKLY!!! We're outta here and headed for home in...

FOUR DAYS????

Four days it is!

Garage Sale

We're selling off as much as we can to make the move back home. If you're in the area, follow the neon yellow arrows and take a look! Actually, follow the arrows at either Thunderbird & 60th Street or Greenway & 60th Street, and buy our stuff!

Click here to see our garage sale online advertisement and map with easy-to-follow Google Maps directions!

Queen sleeper sofa

Queen mattress set

7' folding shutters (we used these as a partition, or as the headboard wall for our bed)

Cute girly luggage, easy to find at baggage claim! (Carry-on case, duffel bag, square shoulder bag, and carry-on purse)

PLUS lots more, including:
small Chrismas tree and lights
drafting table
electronics
sewing machine
small kitchen appliances

We're also serving ice cold drinks and water for $1 for refreshment!

A-Buuuuuuuhhhh....

I know that because this story backs right up to my Tonsilloliths post, I might just sound like a total hypochondriac. However, these few things just piled up on me all at once! I think my body and surrounding infectious attack agents knew I would need extra energy because of all this packing and moving stress. And it's all hitting me at once!

While on our cruise with the families (check out my many pictures posted about a week ago), I had my mom take a look at a mole that I have had on the back side of my scalp pretty much all my life. Because I had a feeling it might be changing a little, and because she has always sort of kept an eye on it for me (because it's on the back side of my scalp where I can't really see it), I had her take a look. She was concerned that it had changed and maybe even grown a little since the last time she had seen it, and urged me to see a dermatologist as soon as we were back from our vacation.

(I can't stop thinking of Austin Powers every time I type the word mole. Watch this scene as well as this scene and finally this scene to understand why it's... A-BUUUUUUUUH... hilarious!!!)

Friday afternoon I called a local dermatologist and made an appointment to have the mole evaluated on Tuesday (this morning) at 11:00. Once I got off the phone, I decided to myself that even if the mole was deemed healthy and not at any risk of being a problem, I still wanted to have it removed. Why? Well, it's just a really big mole. And, even though it's hidden by my thick and massive hair, it is always a big issue when I have my hair cut.

So the weekend passed and I went into work for a morning shift, from 8:00 until 1:00 on Monday. During my work in the studio, I noticed that my elbow was super itchy. And there were a few little bumps on it, like a mosquito had gotten to it in the middle of the night or early in the morning.

I shrugged it off and went about my work, but by the time I got home around 1:30, these itchy welts were getting bigger, and the three "bites" had turned into about seven or eight pink, warm, intensely itchy welts. And my right arm had a few now, too. But since I tend to get pretty big welts from mosquitoes anyway, I just kept shrugging it off like it was nothing.

But the itching. I mean, come ON! It was insane.

Once I got home and changed from my yucky, glaze-splattered work clothes, I noticed that my legs were itching as well. Now I had welts on both my arms and both my legs. And they were getting itchier and bigger and they were all little hot spots. I called my mom and asked her what she thought they might be. We ruled out a second round of chicken pox (I had them when I was little), and we ruled out shingles. With my mom, I still decided this was probably a super-hungry mosquito, or maybe even a few fleas, that got into the bedroom on Sunday night and ate me alive.

Luckily, since I already had this dermatologist appointment scheduled for this morning, I was able to ask her about my "bites" as well as show her the moley-moley-moley on my head. First, we talked about my mole, and I told her that even if there was no risk in keeping it, I wanted it removed. She got out a few tools and got set up immediately! Wow, I thought this would require a consultation, a biopsy, and a separate appointment to have it removed. And here she was, ready to go! Woohoo! She took a look at my mole and decided she wouldn't want it staying anyway, because the side of it I thought might have gotten a little bigger was the side that she thought was a little irregularly shaped. Yes, it was big enough to have sides!

Once she numbed the area with a tiny needle, she just sliced it right off. A little topical cream to keep any germs out, and she was done. Then she took a look at my legs and arms. "Whoa! I bet you're ready to crawl out of your skin! This is some kind of rash, I'd say." Who knows what I got into, or what I got on me, or what Vespa got into and got on me, but it's something that my skin does not agree with. I mean, look at this! These are a few pictures of the spots on my arms and one spot on one of my legs. Are you itching yet?


I have a steroid in pill form to take every day as well as a topical cream to put on twice a day. I'm not starting the steroid until tomorrow, but I put the cream on as soon as I got home from the pharmacy. The itching has gone away a little, and hopefully it'll go away totally pretty soon.

Now I am a clean-tonsil (I'm instantly down 10 notches to the rank of "normal morning breath" now!!! Be so happy for me!), mole-free, itchy person. And hopefully the itchy part will stop very soon!

Tonsilloliths

WARNING: THIS IS A VERY GRAPHIC AND DISGUSTING ENTRY. TO THOSE WHO ARE SENSITIVE TO ILLNESS OR ANY MEDICAL ISSUES DEALING WITH INFECTION--PLEASE, SAVE YOUR LUNCH. DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING STORY. AND, YES, IT REALLY IS THAT BAD.

You may remember my vivid dream of being stuck in a dumpster (number 8) which woke me into the terrible reality that my breath really smelled... like a dumpster.

Chronic bad breath is something that I have dealt with for a really long time. I don't remember having bad breath when I was little, or suffering from a stinky mouthpiece when I finished playing my flute or piccolo for hours on end in high school... but I've suffered from terrible breath for a really long time. Who wouldn't say that suffering from bad breath every morning was bad? Well, a thorough brushing and mouthwash rinse wear off after a while, and my nasty dumpster breath comes back. And it's just as bad as when I woke up.

I use a tongue scraper to clean my tongue, from allllll the way back, and alllll the way to the tip of my tongue. I brush my cheeks with my toothbrush once I'm finished with my teeth and gums. Mouthwash is a given for me. I've never been big on flossing, but the stinky breath isn't coming from my mouth, I could tell. My tongue didn't taste bad. And when I could really stop and pay attention, I could taste that the nasty breath wasn't coming from my lungs or stomach from a stinky meal. But I could never really pinpoint the problem.

Then comes this past week. I've been suffering from a cold which started as a general head soreness, moved to an ear infection, and has settled itself comfortably into the sniffles and a little juicy cough. With the cough, it's much worse in the morning, a hard cough might sound nasty but not bring any satisfying results. But as the day goes on, things loosen up and it's mostly sniffles and a clearing of the throat from then on out.

With the cough, and trying the get the yuckies out of my throat, I've been noticing some little yellowish-white pellets. Not boogers. Not puss. But somewhere in between. Upon inspection of one earlier in the week, I squished it in between my fingers, and the foulest, most rank smell EVER was the result. The little pellet squished into a grainy, sticky mess on my finger and thumb. And the smell, as disgusting and horrifying as it was, reminded me of something very familiar: my breath.

Fast forward to this afternoon. Lots of chatting over Gmail chat with my best friend Chelsea, lots of laundry and cleaning and planning. Lots of online house shopping and talking over the phone with the Hub. And then I felt it. A loose lump in the back of my throat.

I raced to the bathroom in the guest bedroom, where the bulbs are brightest thanks to all the surrounding mirrors and skylight above. I opened my mouth, stuck out my tongue, and flexed my tonsils. Sure enough, out popped one of those nasty balls of grossness. For some reason, I squished it in between my finger and my thumb again. This time, the smell made me gag. As I held back my lunch over the sink, I felt more in the back of my throat. I opened up. Terror struck my insides. I just knew I was dying of throat cancer.

I ran to the fireplace mantle where our gigantic flashlight is, and ran back into the bathroom to get a closer look. My right tonsil was practically exploding with these disgusting pods of infected grossness.

And they smelled like my dumpster breath. I could tell as I was swabbing them up with q-tip after q-tip. I'll save some of the "surfacing" details because if the image hasn't made you puke so far, the details probably would. But by the time I squished around my tonsil for about 20 minutes, I'd say I had enough of these things to cover the face of a quarter.

I know.

At this point, I was convinced that I was dying of throat cancer, and rushed to the computer to type up "trusty" ole webmd.com. Typed in the word tonsils.

And next came probably the single largest epiphany I have ever had! These nasty, smelly pellets have a name. They are a sort of "condition" one could say. These things are called "Tonsilloliths" or Tonsil Stones.

Okay, so, I'm not dying. Maybe. Let's follow the links and make sure mine look like what the descriptions are telling me.

http://www.webmd.com/oral-health/tonsil-stones-tonsilloliths-treatment-and-prevention

That link above was the first set of information I had ever read on this nasty condition. Next, I clicked over from some link and found these articles. Beware, there are graphic photos of these nasty, infected tonsil impostors:

link to article and pictures

That entire web site is pretty much an advertisement for the doctor she raves about, but the graphic explanations about the stones was enough to make me jump up and down.

Now I know why my breath is always so nasty. It's not what I'm eating. It's not cancer hardening and tumbling out of my throat. They're existent in about 25% of adults who still have their tonsils. Dangit, I'm one of them.

Please don't hate me. Don't look at me with disgust or shy away from talking with me in an up-close conversation in a noisy room. I know what the problem is, and now I can work to fix it. Question is, should I poke at my tonsils for the rest of my life with Q-tips, or have them removed altogether?

Either way, I'm done with dumpster breath.

Just... read it.

Chelsea: trisha, i have proof that i desperately need you back.

me: why! lemme hear it!

Chelsea: without you here to knock sense into me, i have turned into something i have avoided for a couple of years now.

me: a blonde?

Chelsea: that would probably be better. but this is who i am, i shouldn't be ashamed.

i am...

a Twifan.

a Twihard

a TwiCrack addict.

me: ummm

oh no

i know

...light.

Chelsea: oh no is right

me: i've been so ashamed

so embarrassed

so disappointed

Chelsea: my blogger dashboard shows me anonymously following the dealers to feed my addiction

i know way too much about the series.

i am currently reading the first book again for the 5th time...

after trying to read another book and taking 20 minutes to read the first sentence.

i.

am.

ruined.

and you know what is the worst part?

me: i don't know if i want to!

but tell me

Chelsea: the person i did depend on to pick me up out of my Twi-Hole...

fell into it, too.

me: andrew

i know, i know.

i shake my head in disbelief

Chelsea: i.

ruined.

my.

husband.

me: just sit back and think about what you've done

take a look in the mirror

at your cute little short hair

and your favorite green striped dress

and the fang scars on your neck!

you fool!

Chelsea: but in twilight they don't have fangs

and they sparkle in the sunlight

me: so they're fairies

Chelsea: BAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAAAAAA

oops

i literally just laughed out loud

at my desk

at work

me: alone in your office

Chelsea: it would be better if i was in an office! i'm at a reception desk!

me: more proof that you've destroyed yourself

Chelsea: my life is over.

Country road, take me home to the place I belong!

Get ready, guys, we're moving back to Georgia!


What was probably a quick and relieving two-hour "interview" conversation in Moultrie, Georgia this morning for Carlton was indeed a grueling, terrible, miserable two hours for me with a phone that WOULD! NOT! RING! Finally, after my imagination led me to believe that Carlton was driving through the front yards of Moulrtie homeowners and smashing plants along with mailboxes on his way out of town with tears streaming down his face after he was rejected (breeeeeeeathe.), my phone rang. And it wasn't another text from my sister begging me to calm down... my phone screen flashed, "Hubby is calling!" Okay, here goes. I hunkered down on the sofa and braced myself. "Hey, you."

"Hey, babe, you wanna live in Moultrie?"

All I could do was cry and nod.

Carlton got the job offer on the spot, and I can say that I am a very, very proud, pleased, and relieved wife. He's so excited about the family of guys he's already met there in the office. "They're so nice, Trisha. They're just really good people. Mr. Rowell is going to be a good man to work for." Carlton's voice sounded so relieved, thankful, and proud.

Up front, from what I can understand, Carlton will be streamlining a lot of redundancy in their computer programs. He'll stand as their one and only guy for all computer needs. He's going to have a high-stress job, but only because if it works it's because of him... and if it doesn't... it's because of him. Lots of web programming and maintenance. Lots of challenges and fun projects. What an amazing opportunity for him to grow and prove himself!

Lots of phonecalls and texts to family and friends. I broke the news to a couple of my very favorite girls at work, and we all shared a frown, smile, and hug. I'm going to miss these girls soooooo badly. They are one of the reasons I warmed up to Arizona (no pun intended!) as much as I have.

A rental truck has already been reserved (and will be driven by paid professionals this time, whew!!!). A yard sale is being planned for next weekend. A couple other major plans are sill in limbo, but hey, I got the news two hours before I had to leave for work this afternoon!

For now, I'm just taking this one minute at a time, and thanking Good God Almighty for answering our prayers so quickly and abundantly. We have been blessed that we both have jobs here, and that we could live in this house and stay at our jobs here in Arizona until a perfect opportunity came along. We have never been left needing anything in the job search, and that is truly a blessing!

I have the need to start making lists and start organizing things: move, toss, donate, sale. This is going to be a very busy two weeks!

Day 8: Venice

Day 8 of the trip, we arrived back in Venice around 9:00am. It was a beautiful ship, loads of fun, and the best company anyone could ask for.

Yes, the water really was this color:

A beautiful and gigantic yacht our water taxi buzzed by on our way from the shipyard:

Our hotel for the last night of the vacation, Hotel Castello.

San Marco Square, one last time:

Carlton's got a last-minute plane ticket to buy, and Big Saunders needed to check some work email. I loved this internet cafe. Check out the column! It's authentic.

It's been great, EU, but the Joneses were all in need of some onion rings and a juicy burger!

The Hard Rock: Venice was located at a gondola hot spot!

This monstrous red glass chandelier was made on a small local island to Venice called Murano, where my family (the Lamberths) buys glass every chance we get!

I was bonkers for the interior of this place. I wish I had taken my camera out in the restroom, it was amazing!

Day 7: Dubrovnik, Croatia

Or, as I like to call it, "Dooobrrrrrrovvvvneeeeek!"

We ate breakfast on the very back of the ship, and looked around at the beautiful hills of Croatia.

Once you've walked through the entrance of the walled city and turn a slight left, you have to stop and take this in for a few moments.

Entrance doors to the oldest European pharmacy were ornately decorated with a carving of Jesus draped over the lap of the virgin Mary.

A lovely chandelier light fixture in the entrance halls of the pharmacy:

And just around the corner, there was this. Wow.

More of the pharmacy hallways:

Shadows

A little scrub-scrub to buff and shine the ancient frescoes:

After the pharmacy, we visited a beautiful church.

And to top it all off, the Japs gave us a few laughs with their expressions as they came out of the Croatian restrooms. "I's a hole, onleeee! No seat, jus huuuvah!" Take note here: 4 men in their "line" (but two of them are in the process of leaving the restroom so they shouldn't count), 17 visible women in line before my mom who is at the very bottom left.

Vicki didn't do so well on her one and only try.

Day 6: Corfu

Some pretty apartments with pretty balconies and pretty flowers and pretty shutters.

On our way up to the old fort, I was entranced by the repetition in this beautiful building in the square of their "downtown."

We've made it over to the fort now.

Decorative explosives are pretty and deadly.

Ecce! In pictura est un puella nomine Trisha. Trisha sedet sub arboris.

Just outside the church down hill from the fort:

I think there's something inside that doorway on the right.

And to top off the day, some gyros for the soul.

Day 5: Piraeus (Athens)

The Parthenon wasn't exactly up close and personal when we got out of the train station. But the walk turned out to be a lot shorter than it originally looked. Of course, it was probably about a 3 mile hike, but doesn't this look like about 10 miles away?

We passed by lots of ruins on our gradually inclined walk on the way up. Isn't this beautiful, with the Acropolis way away in the background?

What a taunting little *bleep!* of a sign.

OMG we made it!!! Scott and I were in wonderment. It was so amazing how gigantic these structures were. It was a true DREAM to have seen this place, with our interests, and it was on this day that we earned the nicknames "Pokey 1" and "Pokey 2" from Carlton and the rest of the fam. We couldn't stop staring up at the giant structures, mouths open, cameras clicking, thoughts racing. "It's really THIS BIG???"

These were some of the first stairs we had to actually climb to get up to the Acropolis. Yeah, that entire distance was just a gradual incline, and we were so grateful! How many members of the Lamberth/Jones Family & Friends European Invasion can you spot on the steps? (Haha, if you can find my mom or Carlton, you can tell how annoyed at my Poky-ness they are already!)

I had a very up-close and special meeting with six of the most beautiful women in the world.

Do you think he's tired yet?

I swear, it was like this when we got here!