Well I should have updated this a long time ago, but these past 2 years have been particularly trying. I loved living in Alaska, but am  now back in Las Vegas. Alone. It seems my spouse of 19 years decided I was "useless" and can no longer waste time on me with my medical challenges. He matter of factly informed me that I had no reason to be depressed, if I loved him I wouldn't be depressed, and if our roles were reversed daily full body pain for years on end wouldn't bother him. He'd suck it up and not let it change him. In short, he left. At least he agreed to not divorce so I could keep much needed medical insurance....wait, after I went to visit my parents this last summer, it was conveyed through my oldest child that I was not to return to AK because my "husband" couldn't afford 2 households. Obviously I have't been able to work, so I was suddenly living with my parents.

They lost their jobs due to a corporate take over and were planning to move to Vegas and the house they own there (the one that my "husband" led everyone to believe he purchased). I helped by packing their house over several months, because I have limited energy and lots of pain. We drove out and my mom and I got settled (dad is still getting the Jersey house in order to sell). After finding at least half the things that had been put in storage prior to moving to AK missing and/or broken in the garage (my "husband" had asked some of his "friends" to move the stuff from storage to the house garage when my folks decided not to rent it out and said "husband" couldn't afford the monthly storage bill anyway) I was devastated  It appears that family heirlooms along with regular things were stolen by people I know. The "friends" of his were rightfully unhappy that they had to move all that stuff with no compensation, so I guess they helped themselves.

Next blow was receiving divorce papers via email. He wants child support for our 15 year old (our 18 year old moved out almost as soon as he turned 18 just to get away from him). He won't be providing any medical coverage, alimony, nothing. He says he is keeping the debt, but that isn't anything. It is a significant amount, true, but he was planning on declaring bankruptcy before he left me, so honestly, he isn't losing anything there. Because he is there and my son is there, I would have to get an attorney in AK to fight this. I have no income, so I am SOL. He also sent a few of my personal things without padding them at all. The box arrived shredded and everything inside was broken. All of my things are up there and in the divorce decree he is saying whoever has what physically now will stay that way. I get none of my things back. Nothing.

There have been additional issues to cope with, but these are the major ones affecting me on an ongoing basis. This is why I haven't been updating, or present on facebook, etc. Every time I try to regain my feet, he pulls the rug out again. I suppose I should change the  name of this blog since I no longer reside in an asterisk state, simply Sin City. Any ideas for new name are welcome :-)

Day 2-Montana Tuesday, February 7, 2011

Butte, Montana 

Watson is unsure about the snowfall...on the plus side he looks snazzy in his jacket

Last night we saw a storm was headed our way and Marc (my husband) wanted to switch drivers so he could sleep. His reasoning "so I can be rested and take over before it starts to snow." He has the enviable ability to fall asleep instantly, any time, anywhere which he promptly did before I had finished adjusting my mirrors. 

Five minutes later the snow started. It was going fine until I was pacifying one of the perpetually hungry teenagers in the back, uselessly promising to stop at the next exit for food. That turned out to be 100+ miles of nothing. We filled up in Butte and decided to stay the night as the plows weren't out and the snow was piling up.

Thankfully Marc slept, as I did only fitfully in spite of the melatonin. Still, the Motel 6 was clean and didn't charge extra for the 3 dogs. I'm sure they will think twice after our incident in the elevator on the way down to the truck...

I've got Watson's leash (15 pound Silkie Terrier broken down into approximately 5 pounds dog/10 pounds attitude) and my backpack, blankie, toiletry case as well as feeling like Ralphie's little brother from A Christmas Story. Still not used to all the stuff! Colin (16 year old) has his backpack, Genevieve, and Scout's leashes, in addition to various luggage type trappings. Sean (13 year old) was asked to go back to the room to pick up the garbage sack of food (yep, we're classy! Their air tight food storage container was nixed at the last minute in trailer packing, so we dumped a bunch in a bag), their bowls, and his backpack. Genevieve is a 70 pound mutt who we think has Rhodesian Ridgeback in her from what the vet said when we adopted her 11 years ago, Scout is some kind of hound and 80 pounds. He has no respect for personal boundaries. Sean catches us at the elevator, laden down as we all were, when Scout decides to greet Sean. He opted to do away with any preliminaries and go straight to his 'ace in the hole' attention grabbing maneuver. Normally we find this adorable on mild mannered Scout.

His sizable hound nose went unerringly to the stacked food/water bowls Sean is holding, the un-emptied food bowl on top. Like a shark testing for prey, he bumps. Many things happen at once. The bowl flies in the air, bits of kibble sprays in all directions, Scout zips to the back of the elevator in response to the UFO's/succeeds in tangling the leashes around Colin and my legs, and finally, the 3 bipeds look down in shock at the destruction.

The track that the elevator doors travel along are now full of dog kibble. The doors, having the good sense to realize nothing good is happening on the 2nd floor, decide to try to close to try for a quieter view. This was not to be. Cue the reverberating alarm while I mash the "hold open" button and the boys dive for the floor to try in vain to dig out the food. The canines, in their infinite doggie wisdom, decide to alternate cowering in the corner and trying to make stealthy breaks for freedom away from the freaking buzzing noise, all the while twisting previously mentioned leashes into a rats nest. Triumphantly out pops Colin's pocket knife! He thinks he can flick the morsels out with leverage, but alas, these suckers are suddenly akin to diamonds in indestructability.

15 minutes later, mortified, frazzled, slightly deaf, and overheated from being dressed for the great outdoors, we descend from the second floor to the lobby. Marc, quizzical and slightly irritated expression "Where have you been?!"

After explaining to the kind woman at the front desk about our mess and asking to use a vacuum/broom/atomic bomb to remove evidence that we had been there, she good-naturedly told me not to worry a bit, they would take care of it. I gratefully grease myself up with bacon fat and slide into Geoff, already slightly worn out. 


Yay-the roads are plowed! Wait...5 miles out of town, not so much. Holy crap is that a SNOW PLOW in the ditch?!

The back half of a snow plow in the ditch just outside Butte

So much for the plowed roads!

 
Next stop is Great Falls because my Las Vegas doctor's assistant called me in between Butte and Great Falls. She didn't get my message before we left, and she can call in my prescriptions that need refilling, just needs a pharmacy. Thank goodness! We find a Kroger there, and due to typical doctor's office wait times, are held up for hours. Thanks to the delay, we don't make the Canadian border until after dark.


Bummer. I wanted a picture of the border crossing.

Thank you Kroger of Great Falls, MT for the use of this reasonably priced recliner while waiting for my doctor's office to call in my 'scripts!

The Journey Begins... Saturday February 5, 2011

Friday night, my husband, with his overwhelming optimism, posted an hour to hour schedule for us to follow in order to be on the road by 1500 (3pm to you non 24 hr clock folks). I say overwhelmingly optimistic for many reasons. A few examples of which being he himself did not awake at the appointed time, the house was NOWHERE NEAR being finished in terms of packing, and did I mention my body has officially opted out of the 'following directions' phase?...Ah, the good old days prior to the endless joint pain and fatigue brought on by that stupid tick, I could pack up the house in a few days on my own. Stressed, who me?!

The sweet sound of rescue arrived in the form of a phone call from our dear friends, the Jaggi's. They had planned on coming over, bringing some lunch, spending some time with us, and saying good-bye. When they offered to help, I gratefully took it. Through much eye rolling, knowing looks, and helpless shrugs whenever hubby steadfastly stated "no, we are leaving today", everyone pitched in without exception. Even their youngest was shredding unneeded old files!

The challenge, besides the above stated, is that we are moving to North Pole, Alaska from Las Vegas, Nevada. Hubby lost his job back in the fall, out of the blue, and Fort Wainwright offered him a position as a civilian firefighter. The rub is no relocation expenses-just a report date. Sooo...2 adults, 2 teenage boys, 3 dogs, one smallish SUV, and the U-haul trailer behind it, like a modern day version of the Clampett's. We are living in 2300 square feet with a 3 car garage and moving to an 1100ish square foot duplex with a one car (HEATED!) garage. We certainly don't mind downsizing. It doesn't take away from the challenge of properly estimating and packing said trailer, taking in account going from mid 70's weather to negative "who knows how cold it could get."


Again my gratitude runs deep to these friends, as they have happily helped us move before, and her husband's analytical and organizational mind was a huge help to my hubby's in the successful packing of both vehicle and trailer. Now came the moment of truth...

We all took a quick last shower, dogs included, and I'm happily blow drying my hair, thinking happy thoughts of snow, cold, moose, Alaska, etc. Part of my mind is worried at where to fit this thing when I finish since it isn't compact (picture that scene in Spaceballs when they are trekking through the desert, Lonestar shouts at her about only bringing what they need to survive? She comes back with "It's my industrial strength hair dryer, and I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT IT!") when suddenly there is a crackling, solid blue arching, and the freaking thing explodes on me!

Hmmm. Problem solved...

Deciding it is NOT in fact a bad omen, we load up-I'm sorry, I mean we cover ourselves in bacon fat and gingerly wedge ourselves into the Honda Pilot we've affectionately named Geoff (we are huge Top Gear fans!) using eco-friendly disposable gigantic shoe horns obtained on ebay, and at exactly 2357, or 11:57PM depart Las Vegas. High five-it is STILL technically Saturday....