Summer Squares

I don't have any kind of normal-person special skills. I can't run a mile in 5 minutes or paint a picture of a mountain that actually looks like a mountain. I've tried to learn to knit, twice. And failed, twice. I try to keep things scheduled on my calendar so I can stay all organized and on top of things, but I keep losing my calendar. I don't have meal plans. I don't clean my children's rooms or even my house with any kind of regularity. I get someone else to do my taxes and honestly, I don't even know HOW to change the oil in my car.

But you know what I'm really good at? Moving. I've had all sorts of practice in my life and I've got it down to an art. I don't even start getting ready until 48 hours before the big event. And I usually have everything unpacked and in place 48 hours after. USUALLY.  I was so ready for this move. I posted right before the move, and had a post waiting for the week after. It was going to be seamless. No one was going to know I was gone. Except that you did. Because, as it turns out, I'm only good at moving in America. Who knew that this one special talent of mine was geographically limited?

The moving system here is slightly different. The company brings in giant plastic bins and throws (gently places) all your highly valued materialistic goods inside of them, transports them to your new place of dwelling, and then unpacks them for you. The unpacking was my downfall. Every flat surface area in my house was covered with items. Even the floors. There was no organization to it. There were kitchen items in at least 3 different places. Bathroom items were located in every single room of my house. (House. I live in a house. It's so exciting I can hardly stand it.) I found my watch in a pile with party balloons and laundry spray, next to the toothpaste and candles.

I'm totally not complaining. It was fantastic not having to deal with packing paper and boxes. It was even more wonderful not to have to figure out how to move all of my worldly belongings down 5 flights of stairs, across the country, and into a new house. And my very favorite part of the entire process is that picture right up there. Can you see that all of those things are being held in that truck with -- packing tape?! They drove that packing taped truck on the interstate, through Korea city traffic, and right up to my new house. That's some high quality packing tape right there. I'm so glad I didn't see that until it got safely to the other side. Now the memory can reside safely in the category of "hilarious" without being tainted by "worried for hours that I will never see anything on that truck again."

My point is that I couldn't find my camera until two days ago and I didn't find my card reader until last night. These cookies are from my "no oven" days in the old apartment. In case you can't tell....they are graham crackers.

When I made them, I thought I was being so clever. But now that I'm looking at the pictures, I realize they are a little more on the cryptic side. My husband could only identify three of them, which was only one more than my 5 year old. They both got the watermelon right. What do YOU think they are? 

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