Greetings from sunny California

Morgan and I arrived safely, as did our stuff. The furniture is all where it is supposed to be in our room, now all I have to deal with is the boxes. Lots and lots of boxes. Being a packrat wouldn't be a bad thing, if I didn't have to keep moving all the flaming time. My lovely books are heavy and thus expensive to move, and every time I do, I have to whittle the number down. How am I going to fill the two-story library in my dream house if I have to keep paring down my collection? Gah!

I picked up a listing of available positions at the local casino, though dad hasn't yet started bugging me about job-hunting. I could tell he was pleased by my initiative, as he was pleased enough to thank me when I did a load of dishes and cleaned the kitchen countertops. It was nice to be thanked. Never got that in Missouri; just complaints of whenever we _didn't_ unload the dishwasher or whatever. It's very, very good to be home.

More details later; the highs (hiking around the lake, driving through my mountains) and lows (a sick baby who is therefore very fussy and clingy lately) and a really bizarre dream I had right before I left Missouri.