Shipoopi

The white Sands National Monument was quite an interesting place. The sand was white, which messed with my head a lot because it resembled snow, and it had a decent amount of water mixed in (which is why the dunes stay intact, appearantly). So, everytime I saw a puddle, I thought it was the mush from where the sand melted, and then I'd have to remind myself that unlike snow, sand doesn't melt.

To make things more confusing, they rented out sleds, so you could slide down the dunes like some sort of winter wonderland. Except that it wasn't a winter wonderland. It was a desert, and it was really hot outside.

The boys loved sliding down the dunes.

Another thing to add to our confusion that day was that we had passed into a new time zone and were just getting used to our clocks being an hour behind the local time--which our cell phones reflected--but then all of our clocks suddenly synchronized that day. We had no idea that daylight savings time had just ended.

But we weren't the only ones there who were confused. We also ran into a couple from Texas who asked us about the local time, and after explaining that we were from Washington, they realized that we were just as confused as they were.

We then saw a camel, which was giving its owner some difficulty until the Texan came over and bossed it around a bit.

The Texan is the one wearing red shorts.

We all had fun, though. The boys were very upset that we had to go... and that it wasn't windy enough to fly the kite.

From there, we headed south into El Paso, so we are officially in Texas. While in El Paso, we decided to stop at a zoo, but we arrived just a couple hours before closing on a Monday, so the zoo was dead quiet. But it was nice to let the boys run around a bit before they put all the animals away for the night and shooed us out of the zoo.

Look, Ethan, everything the light touches is our kingdom.

And then we headed east. We also crossed another time zone, so our clocks desynchronized again... Bummer, I guess I will have to reset them after all.

One night, we stopped at a truck stop and--while looking for a good place to park for the night--we hit a massive pot-hole, which knocked the end pipe to our waste system clean off and all of our waste water gushed out. So, that rendered our plumbing useless for the night. Luckily, the truck stop had wonderful restrooms and showers for us to use. We just couldn't do any dishes.

The next day we learned that Trump had won the election, which I had predicted earlier in the year, but still took me by surprise. All the polls seemed to project Hillary as winner. Personally, we weren't able to vote this year, being far from our registered state. I don't really have anymore to say on this matter here, but if you are interested in my thoughts on the election results, and what they mean to me, feel free to leave a comment or send me a message.

So, from there, we had to find a place to fix the plumbing. I have never done plumbing work before, and wasn't going to give it a shot on the side of the road, especially dealing with sewage of all things. So we found this nice company called Billy Sims Trailer Town in Odessa, Texas, and they did a good job of piecing it back together. They even let me watch, so I could give it a try if it happens to us again.

Let's hope it doesn't. This trip has tested enough of my skills already.

I'm going to be honest, this trip has been stressful, but so far it all seems worth it. Yes, a trip like this can take its toll on your marriage and family, it can make you physically sick as you move from climate to climate, it can seem like everything is falling apart at times, and it can be dang expensive. But it'll be worth it.

I feel like this sort of cross-country trip should almost be a coming-of-age requirement. Not only to learn new skills and boost confidence in one's abilities, but also to find a culture and a climate where it seems you fit in. For us, that wasn't Port Angeles, WA. We're not even sure if it will be Alabaster, AL permanently, but we at least have a better idea of what's out there, and we know we can make it happen.

And even if we failed miserably, the memories, which may have been stressful at the moment they occured, will be worth every cent.

If I stayed in Port Angeles all my life, I never would have stories about the time I burnt all my facial hair, or the time I flooded the trailer, or the time I busted off the sewage pipe, or the time we were coming down a mountain and realized we had no more brakes, or the times the kids puked and pooped on my pants every time we had them washed, and how I had to ride the shuttle bus back to camp while smelling like baby-vomit.

After the initial event, the stress fades, and these become funny stories we'll never forget. And on a trip like this, they are almost a daily occurance. I can't wait for the next mishap!

Today, we are in Fort Worth area--over two-thirds of the way into our trip--spending time with my mother-in-law before we take the last stretch to our new home.

And the adventure won't stop there. We will still need to find a church, make friends, find jobs and eventually move into a new place. We'll be starting over on our own, and it won't matter then who is President, they don't have the power to make the big changes in our lives, like we did.

Only you and God can make those changes happen.

Until next time, take care, and thanks for all the prayer!