So, we sold our beloved Lakehouse. It’s capitalized because, to us, it’s always been a proper noun. It was time. Our kids grew up going there, so there are heaps of sentimental value. But now, the kids all have jobs at our real house and the poor Lakehouse stands empty and lonely most of the time. We want to vacation and travel, which was really hard to do when we were paying a mortgage on a vacation home. So, we will hand the keys over to a new family on July 1. This June, we are eking out our last days there while we empty years worth of things and memories each visit. And this is where our story begins. 

Last weekend, we decided to move our huge swim platform home. As most of you know, we moved onto a tiny lake in our Valparaiso subdivision into a house that needed more love than we realized. We wanted our swim platform here. I convinced Travis that the best way to move it was to tie it to the roof of Bert (the SUV of questionable origin). The last time I moved it, I tied it to the roof of the minivan, so this seemed an appropriate way to move it. It’s a circle with a diameter of eight to nine feet, or maybe more, which is well overhanging Bert’s 6 ½ feet. We also had a trailer that was full of inflated floats and random riff raff from the lake. And we had to be out of the Lakehouse on time because the appraiser was coming. As we were backing up Bert to connect the trailer, we realized that the ball connector for the hitch was not the right size. We called Trav’s mom Peggy to ask Merle (because Merle will never answer his phone) what the trailer required, since they gave us the trailer. Yup, definitely different than the standard ball. So, we had the option of driving into town with the enormous swim platform on Bert (because it took us over an hour to secure it) to purchase a new ball for the hitch, possibly making us late getting out for the appraiser and more importantly late for my coveted appointment at the BMV, which I had made two or more weeks ago. The appointment was to license the very trailer we were using, as well as other trailers that had been sitting in a red-neck trailer Jenga in our Lakehouse yard for years. So, we left the trailer and planned to return later in the day. 

We made it home with the platform and made it to the BMV on time. When we got to the BMV, only one of us was allowed to go in. Logically, I would usually be the one, since I was holding the heaps of paperwork for four trailers (don’t ask), but Travis was listed ALONE on two of the titles, so he needed to be the one. I stood outside for about five minutes before Travis called and said that I could come in and stand six feet away from the desk. After an hour inside the BMV (they were both nice and patient), we managed to license two of the four trailers. For the third, we need a court order for the title, since we never got the title for it when we bought it, but it was listed on our receipt of purchase. The fourth, the very trailer that was full and waiting for our return visit to bring home, needed a letter from Merle and Peg saying that they gifted it to us, despite the title being signed over. Apparently, they don’t like it when money does not change hands. UGH!! Half way there! I never accomplish anything without three visits to the BMV.

Travis and I then went to the wild world of Walmart to purchase a new ball trailer hitch and drove back to the Lakehouse. That turned out to be a good thing since the house was left completely unlocked, despite specific instructions on the use of the code lock for the appraiser. We did a quick turn around, locking the house and attaching the trailer. I specifically remember asking Travis if the floats needed to be better secured. He replied, “Come on Jo, it’s fine. I’m a doctor.” The doctor part is one of our family jokes about Travis being an expert on everything because of his attendance of medical school. As you may have guessed, a few miles down the road, one of the huge flat tubes took off from the trailer it was wedged into, flew gloriously up into the air, flipping a couple times, landed on its side, bounced a few times, and rolled for many yards before falling flat onto the road in the opposite lane. I, very sympathetically said, “Didn’t see that coming, did you Doc?” Travis took his time pulling over, so that I could think about my lack of sympathy while I walked back to retrieve the float. He got busy securing the remaining occupants of the trailer. A kind lady in a car going the other way stopped (actually, she kinda had to stop), grabbed the float, and started walking my way. When we finally met, we were both laughing. I said, “I asked him if he thought they were really secure and he said they are fine.” She replied, “Men just can’t help it.” 

We arrived home later in the evening without further events, but it was oddly a long day. And the slow move from the Lakehouse continues. Luckily, we are selling it furnished. They may find more furnishings than they bargained for at this rate. Happy humpday everyone!