Boxes. Boxes everywhere.

Hey there! Long time, no write. As you can see we’ve arrived in NE Maine and we’re EXHAUSTED!!!!!

As I sit here in the midst of a sea of boxes, I thought I’d drop a quick line.

I’m using my phone because my computer is somewhere here. Oh and the whole “no internet yet” thing.

We’re alive and we’re officially the proud owners of two mortgages. Woooo. Yay!

And they laughed and laughed some more.

I’ll write more just as soon as I recover. Or at least as soon as I get my coffee maker hooked up.

Thank you for all the good vibes and prayers. They were appreciated. Before I go, here’s a small glimpse into the chaos that is now. All I can say is unpacking is way more fun than packing. And GEEZ I’ve got a lot of stuff.

The High Price Of Moving

A friend from down the street texted me this evening inviting me to go on a quick trip to Ross with her. She was looking for storage bins for a new cabinet that she bought, and myself needing no excuse to go to a store full of pretty things quickly agreed.

The only catch?

I had five minutes to get ready; and so my spiral into shame began unbeknownst to me.

At first I thought “hey no problem I’m already dressed, my hair looks decent- I won’t scare any small children so hey we’re good to go. I’ll just let the kids know I’ll be back within an hour (hooray for having two teenagers – in house babysitting) and just grab my purse. Simple.”

And they laughed and they laughed and they laughed some more.

All of a sudden my youngest needed help logging into my computer. And I couldn’t find my sweatshirt. And …well you get the gist.

With only a moment to spare, I whip the closet door open and quickly grab a pair of flats, slam the door and slip on my shoes while giving last minute instructions.

I get outside just as she pulls up, hop in and we make our merry way across town to a shopping plaza.

All goes well. She finds what she needs. I find what I want but don’t need. I just had to get this adorable navy blue and white basket. It’s perfect for the upstairs bathroom and it was only $5!

After paying for our purchases we head home.

That’s when the Shame Spiral really begins.

I get inside. Slip off my shoes and then , and only then do I look down. And die a million deaths. My pride is gone. My ruination complete.

My dear friends; I wore mismatched shoes on my feet.

This is the price of moving.

My pride.

The house is a jumble of misplaced items exiled from newly painted rooms. My shoe basket is shoved into a dark hallway closet and I am in a constant mind fog of to-do lists.

Let this be a public service announcement: check your feet before going out on the street. Especially when your life is currently turned upside down.

You’re welcome.

This is Summer Dulinsky and I approve this message.

I want to hear from you! Share your shame spiral stories here. You’re among friends!

The Reality of Moving

The cyclone of change swept us up and has been relentless in its pursuit for about two months now.

Preparations for moving- securing a house in our soon to be new town of Houlton, Maine, the time consuming task of getting our house ready for the market, and the mountain of boxes has kept me from grasping what it all means.

We’re leaving.

I know, you’re sitting there scratching your head confused by my admission. How can I not be grasping this obvious concept while moving?

I’ve been so consumed with the busyness of moving that I haven’t had a chance for the full weight of reality to sink in.

Until today.

There’s only so much I can do with the majority of my house underneath drop cloths so I’ve found myself with a bit of down time. As I sit here taking an afternoon coffee break I can’t help but notice the barren state of my living room.

We’re leaving. We’re really leaving. This house, our first home that we owned in almost eighteen years of marriage will soon be someone else’s.

Their memories will be hung on walls that once held ours. New friends will be gathered around the kitchen, but they won’t be mine. Stories will be told. Music will play, but it won’t be my youngest twirling about on the coffee table in her bunny pajamas.

She’ll be dancing on the table in New England……

I won’t miss the desert, but I will miss the parks where we spent Friday afternoons with friends. I’ll miss the streets we strolled and the restaurants we sat in with those we love; sharing a meal and our lives.

We will explore unfamiliar places and create new memories with future friends, but a part of us will always be in this old stucco house in the Southwest.

And today I’m just a little sad to be saying goodbye.

I Like To Move It, Move It


Oh how I love moving

Let me count the ways




I don’t think there’s a person on this planet who actually loves the moving process, and if there is and it’s you? Well, feel free to come over and help me.  Seriously.


Even Fat Cat (Shade) is feeling the effects of packing.

January 17, 2018: We received the email that we’d been waiting for since November. The move up north that we’d only been dreaming of for over eight years was finally happening. All we needed to do was reply back that we indeed wanted to accept the offer and we’d be on our merry way- in three months.

We jumped onto the roller coaster of change, strapped in and went for a ride.  There was the foreboding climb up first.  Should we accept?  Is this what God wants for us?  I mean we prayed, we sought.  Did we find? What if this wasn’t the right move for us (no pun intended)?  It’s amazing how you can be dreaming and hoping for something for so long and yet when it finally comes, everything is suddenly so hazy.  Our direction was so clear when it was all hypothetical.

Goodbye clarity, hello uncertainty.

Then we reached the top, the peak of the roller coaster, where we seized the moment and soared with the confidence that this was His direction. The elation! The excitement!  We were finally on our way.  After a decade in the desert, we would finally get somewhere that had all four seasons again.

This part of the roller coaster only lasts for so long because soon we had reached the descent.


The ugly reality of dealing with this.  It took two Advils, three hours, and four million boxes but this no longer looks like this- just take my word for it. It’s still a mess, but an organized mess.

The realities of the move, every minuscule detail, each logistical issue just plunged us down further and faster.  Fear of the unknown had dread plummeting down into our very souls faster than the ride could take us, but soon the thrill once again kicked in and with screams of wild abandon we threw our hands up in the air and embraced it.

Until we reached the bottom where we were left with boxes.  Lots and lots of boxes.


I’m convinced our stuff is really a colony of rabbits disguised as inanimate objects, mating and multiplying at night.  For every box I packed, there seemed to be fifty more waiting for me.  I’m this close to being on a first name basis with the staff of Lowe’s.  Soon you’ll find my picture on their wall of MVC’s. Most Valued Customer.  Okay, I’m totally making that up, but if they did have such a thing, I’d be on it.  My picture framed with bubble wrap.  Like this kind that takes a large mercury glass bowl and turns it into this.


Why yes, I left myself little notes of encouragement for when we begin unpacking…..Tired me will appreciate sarcastic me’s gesture.  Trust me.




 Balboa Mist is ready to neutralize. I’ll miss the yellow, but I’ll soon have a tangerine dining room in Maine. (More on that later)


I’d love to write more, but the painters will be here tomorrow and I’m nowhere near ready for them.  I’d pour myself a cup of coffee and just stay right here, but I need to move my chair into the garage.  That and I packed up all of my coffee mugs.  I have a lot of coffee mugs.  (Actually I’m exaggerating , my chair is safe for now, and I left out a couple of mugs for that sweet sweet nectar of life.)

Hey! Drop a line.  Entertain me with your harrowing stories of when you moved.  Whether it was across the country or just across town, I want to hear from you.  Bonus points if you make me laugh. IMG_3248 I’ll reward you with a cup of coffee.  I saved a mug just for you.  It’s the large one with the picture of a cow wearing glasses.

You’re welcome.

The Maine Event

You want to make God laugh?

Tell him your plans.

When I wrote the “I’m not dead” post, I had no idea that would be my last one for almost two months.  We were doing so good, you and I.  I’d write something witty, occasionally profound (just go with me here) and you’d read it, occasionally like it, maybe comment on it.  We were a team going full steam ahead, and then life waltzed in and swung a giant bat right at my head.  It was a doozy.  I’m still seeing stars here.  So a quick recap and then boy do I have some news for you.

There was the usual holiday hullabaloo involving Christmas pageants, presents, and spontaneous car rides to go look at the lights.

I’ve got a few pointers for you:

  1. Go before 10 pm.
  2. Don’t buy the kids overpriced drinks from the only drive thru open, and for the LOVE!, do NOT, I repeat do NOT take your overly exuberant and highly neurotic dog with you.

Just don’t.

If you do, I’m gonna tell you right now: someone is going to lose it.  The dog is going to kamikaze into your youngest, slamming her soda against her, completely soaking her. She will then complain for the entirety of your ill-fated drive where the only lights you’ll see are the red and green kind that signal traffic.

Even with all the chaos and calamity we found time to deck the halls, ice the cookies and just be silly.

Next: Good-bye 2017and hellooooooo 2018!

We started January with a spontaneous trip out west to Tombstone, Arizona where we stayed at an amazing ranch.  It was a very short trip, only two nights and two days of exploring Tombstone and nearby Bisbee, Arizona before jumping back into our car and making the four hour drive home.  The entirety of our trip I plotted, planned and photographed to my hearts content- I had plans, big plans to kick off the new year with a blog post all about our short family road trip. I will definitely be blogging about this- just maybe not right this moment because…..

That big bat started swinging again.

I kid you not.  The very next day my husband received word that his transfer to move up North was in fact approved. Suddenly a giant ominous ticking clock appeared, one counting down to mid- April when the Dulinsky’s will be piling 2 adults, 2 teenagers, 2 girls under 11, a kamikaze dog, and three…that’s right, I said three cats into a 2007 Chevy Suburban and begin an extremely long drive to…..

Have you guessed it yet?  I’ll give you a hint:  scroll back up….no, further, more , keep going—there you go.

That’s right folks, these crazies are packing up and moving this circus to Maine.


Now before you get all excited envisioning $4 lobsters and summers by the coast, let me go ahead and pop that bubble.  We’ll be much much further north.  In fact, if I want a sandwich from Subway I’ll need a passport…. Can you imagine that conversation at the border?

“Ma’am, purpose for your visit to Canada today?”

Uh, I’m hungry?

It’s going to be quite the change from living in a city of 100,000 to  a town of about 6,000, but it’s a change that I’m looking forward to; despite the fact that there will be no Target or Hobby Lobby (the UPS guy and I are gonna be BFF’s by Labor Day….).

So in a nutshell-  I’m not dead, but by the time I finish this move, I’ll wish I was- at least for a little bit. Until then, I hope to be blogging, but let’s just play it by ear.  I definitely have a lot to talk about. I sure have missed you all and as always, thank you for being you and allowing me to be me. Now if you’ll excuse me I need to go get more bubble wrap.  So.  Much.  Bubble. Wrap.

Oh, and would anyone like two buy a home in southern New Mexico??????