Monday, April 21, was the target date to hit the road. Jennifer actually wanted to get out the Saturday before, but we knew it wouldn’t really be possible. The campervan (as Cooper calls it) had already been sitting in our backyard for over a month at that point. We were ready to go, if only all of the packing and little details were taken care of. After countless orders from Amazon, getting private insurance, a home security system, dealing with the last minute curveball of our renters wanting to get out of their lease and us subsequently deciding to sell the rental house, the minor detail of quitting our jobs, and nonstop packing…we missed our departure date. Certainly we’d be ready the next day.Nope. Wednesday became THE day. Wrong again. After another full day of packing on Thursday, we were kind of ready. Ready enough, in any case, that Thursday evening we hastily delivered our chickens to their awesome new home (the Shangri-La of chicken coops) at the Butler’s house (Jennifer’s parents’ next door neighbors – thanks again, Butlers!) and headed for Sebastian Inlet in rainy weather. Memom stopped by on her way home from work to send us off one more time, and took a few photos for us. We were finally in this thing and driving. We were excited. We were content. Until we stopped at Steak’n’Shake a few minutes later for a quick meal on the way out of Valrico, and then we just felt gross – excited, but gross.
