Grampie's Chevy and a pocketful of dreams

Pretty sure my parents are saints.

Writing from Edmonston, NB today. The Quality Inn just off the highway, to be precise. The rents and I drove from Quebec City laaate last night, checking into the hotel at about 3am....after an insane whirlwind of a day.

Why in the world I went to work yesterday is beyond me. My movers were going to arrive at 2. I had arranged to get off work at 12. Two hours, the perfect amount of time to sort things etc. But then the company calls me the day before and asks if they packers could come earlier to get things rolling. They were coming at 1230.

And of course I promised coworkers we'd do one last pizza run before leaving...

So the packers arrive on time, but I do not. My poor parents (still recovering from driving from PEI the day before...a mere 10 hrs) trying to direct them what was to go, what was to stay (without really having a clue)...

And I arrive panting, out of breath at my door at just after 1... totally discombobulated. And panicking because I don't know how the hell my life got to this point... and what I am supposed to do with 4 movers who are throwing (albeit gently) all my belongings into boxes.

It was chaos.

Anyways, they did their thing and were out the door in just three hours... (incredible, these people have super powers) but it wasn't until significantly later (we're talking 8) that we finally got on the road (me sans the gelato I had promised myself I was going to have prior to leaving).

Me. Mom. Dad. and Shamus (the guinea pig) elbow to elbow in Grampie's Chevy. Cozy is a nice way of describing it. But we made it. We hit the road again in an hour or so... en route to PEI. A small portion of my worldly belongings in the back of the Chevy and a pocketful of dreams.

Two thousand kilometers in three days. My parents rock.