It's that time of year. Time for us to head Southwest. For most folks who go "somewhere else" for the winter, that means driving to the airport, hopping on a plane and arriving at your destination a few hours later.

We, of course, choose the hard way.

The 3 or so days leading up to departure are a frenzy of paperwork-change of address and paying any bills that will come due during travel dates-packing, deciding, reserving, and most of all, schlepping.

This year, 2 of my girls, aka "the Lobsterettes", will be travelling with us. My oldest daughter, Rachel, her husband Pat, and their old cat Alice, will be in their vehicle towing a trailer of their belongings. Their journey begins in Bar Harbor, Maine, where they work during the summer months. We have a meet up place planned on U.S. Route 1-The Big Apple store in Orland, Maine.

But first-there is epic schlepping!

We get up at the crack-ass, neither one of us functions without coffee! The mailboat that will deliver us to the mainland leaves the island at 8am sharp. The night before, we pack anything we plan to take. Every year I say I wont be bringing much and every year I have, in Maine terms-a shitload.

And this year, the Lobster Guy wants to bring his motorcycle. Perfect.

The stuff I am bringing gets put in the pick up, along with Biscuit, my cold weather hatin', chihuahua/somethin mix.

We gotta shut the house down for winter. That means draining pipes-toilet, dishwasher, washing machine, hot water heater, and furnace and protecting them with non toxic anti freeze. This takes some time. We most definitely want to be sure it is done correctly so we dont come back to burst pipes and ruined floors. And there's not a lot of time. So, needless to say this aspect of gettin out the door can be cause for some snappy attitudes and stress. But, we will get er done, we always do.

I will drive the pick up and he will ride his bike to the town dock. Everything in the truck will have to be schlepped down the ramp and onto the mailboat. The bike will be winched onto the boat.

We will leave our island truck at the dock for the Lobster Son to pick up and use for the winter.

I will bid Isle au Haut, my youngest daughter, Roz, her guy and my grand kids a teary goodbye and watch them wave to us from the dock until the boat rounds Kimball Island. The worst part of leaving is gonna be sayin goodbye. They have been with us in Arizona for the past 4 years, but now it's time for my granddaughter to be in kindergarten. She attends a one room schoolhouse with 4 other students, an experience we all wanted her to have. I will miss them terribly. 

My middle daughter, Ruby, her Jeep Patriot and a 3 legged cat named Gus are meeting us on the dock in Stonington. She also works in Bar Harbor during the summer and has been with us each season in Arizona. If you have been to the truck, she took your order. 

We schlepp all the stuff we brought over up the ramp and deposit it on the dock. The motorcycle gets winched off the boat. We get our mainland pick up and start the loading process. Bike first, then anything that can stand up to 4 days, (our expected travel time for 3100 miles) in the elements. Whatever's left will go in the Patriot.

Then it's off to ECS, a small country store that is also a u-haul pick up point, to grab a tow dolly for the Patriot. Ruby and Gus will make a nest in the back seat of our pick up, where I know Biscuit will end up eventually. We will hook up the Jeep, grab coffees and breakfast sandwiches and head for the Big Apple, about 40 minutes away to meet Rachel and Pat.

What are the chances this will all go as planned? We shall see. Stay tuned.