It’s been one-month since our movers arrived. Let me rephrase that. It’s been one month since the 18-wheeler that carried our most dear and useless belongings (a closetful of female power suits and countless silk breezy blouses) got stuck on our one-lane dirt road and two burly yet ever so polite movers showed up at the door to our empty new nest asking where the nearest UHaul location might be. That’s right, they needed to rent a smaller rig. The beast made it 3000 miles cross country all the way from New York City but couldn’t make it down our stretch of heaven. Instead, it sat ominously parked by the main road on view for all our new “reduce, reuse, recycle” 4,453 neighbors (that includes summer residents!) while the movers packed load after load into a glorified mini-van to shuttle back and forth.