I have accepted the call to become the pastor at the First Presbyterian Church in Medford, Oregon, which entails a move from Fairbanks, Alaska, to Medford, a journey of 2764.43 miles. I am 91.27 percent totally excited about the move. The 8.73 precent has to do with packing and driving–well not driving, but the possibility of breaking down while driving.
I am actually looking forward to the drive with The Redhead. We do well on long trips like this, and we have plenty of books on tape, plenty of music, and we are looking forward to the time together before we hit the ground running in Medford.
Most of our stuff is already in storage thanks to the Landlord Who Shall Remain Nameless to Protect the Innocent. The movers come on Tuesday, and we get to pack whatever is left in either a Suburu or the Vanagon, whichever is running. (It is that “whichever is running” that bothers me. Currently the Vanagon is very, very sick, and needs auto ICU. The GP who has been caring for it is a bit stumped, and I think we need to bring in the pros.)
Today is supposed to be the build up to Hump Day, and so I better get humping.