Act Two, Scene Three: Connecticut!

Then, finally, a ray of hope. We saw the sign- it actually said, "New Haven," and boy were no truer words ever spoken. We first had to find a gas station in the Bronx that turned out to be incredibly expensive and in getting out of the station Elise literally missed a concrete pole by three inches in Marge, but when nature and a need for gas calls one must answer. Anyway, when we saw this sign, we knew we were an hour away. And that's when we REALLY started to get antsy.

Finally, we arrived. We got off the interstate and saw this:

And now for the truly remarkable part of the story: as we pulled up outside our house, our new landlady Nancy came out. We got Yvonne off of the car tow, and Nancy helped us get the car tow on the sidewalk. She called her daughter downstairs, and called her son home. They then proceeded for an hour to help Elise, Elise's Dad, and me to unload ALL of our stuff into the house. She then had us upstairs for homemade pesto and pasta, a vegetable medley grown from her own garden, wine, water and bread. It was glorious, and so hospitable. I knew I'd found a home with good people. Did I mention she's an Episcopalian? So yet another THANK YOU goes to Nancy and her kids CJ and Allie, our new landfamily.

This was one of our final moments to Marge the Barge a couple days later, where we bid her farewell, thank you, and good riddance.

On a final note, thank you to Elise's dad for his moral support. Thank you to MY mom and dad for THEIR moral support and expertise. And thank GAWD we made it here in one piece...

Act Two, Scene Two: West Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York

So, I accidentally uploaded these photos in reverse order, but I hope you'll forgive me because this process is dragging on a bit...

This is a picture I have of New York state, as we came in on the New Jersey turnpike. Elise was in the front seat of Marge, I was in her passenger seat navigating/keeping Elise calm. I would alternate between, "Keep left for two miles," and "You're doing great, Elise! You're a beast!" and, "Stay calm, just focus on the road ahead of you." Elise did awesome, and she didn't cry. I would have cried.

This is a picture I snapped of Manhattan as we passed by on our way to George Washington Bridge.
This is how Elise felt dealing with the heavy traffic of the New Jersey turnpike and the George Washington Bridge, as well as the New Jersey and New York drivers.

George Washington Bridge.

Oh, hello, PA.

Just stay classy, West Virginia.

Act Two, Scene One: Virginia

So, at the end of Act One, I had us stopping in Virginia (in Harrisonburg, to be precise). Let me back up a bit and give Virginia a brief shout-out, just because I have a couple pictures.

This is the aformentioned Luna, the trusty backseat companion in my car. This is what I often saw in my rearview mirror. This picture was taken somewhere in Virginia on Driving Day One. Luna did exceptionally well in the car- and since Marge is such a gas-guzzler we had ample opportunity to take her out of the car, give her some water, and let her stretch her legs. For those of you who don't know, Luna is a mostly-yellow lab, aged a year-and-a-half.

This is just a picture I tried to grab of the "Welcome to Virginia" sign as Elise and I left our home state of Tennessee and ventured into VA. Note: Surprisingly, Virginians were TERRIBLE drivers. Especially if they were in minivans...

This is a more clear sign of us being in Virginia.

Digression: I drove from dinner to Harrisonburg, for a duration of about four hours, in Marge the Barge. It's the only time I drove the thing. Thoughts: going downhill you can coast quite well. Going uphill you needed to give her some SERIOUS gas. You can't see the car off the car tow in the back, so you just have to send up a prayer that the car is still there. People assume you can stop on a dime so they try to merge directly in front of you coming on an on-ramp. I wanted to run them over.

Also, at one point, I was driving uphill, in the rain, at night, next to construction, in a fifteen foot truck, with terrible drivers all around me, at midnight. I thought to myself, "I have found it- I am in Hell."

Act Two: The Road Heavily-Traveled

And so we weary voyagers embarked upon the last leg of our journey, passing through eight states in two days. We were accompanied by Elise's dad, but Elise and I drove Marge the Barge the whole way ourselves, with Elise's car Yvonne on the car tow off the back. My car made the whole drive beautifully and, believe it or not, I served as the navigator? I couldn't believe we actually made it in one piece...

Act One, Scene One: Meet Marge the Barge

Arising early at Nate's parent's house in Memphis, Elise, Nate and I set out for Hot Springs, the childhood home of my mother, lifetime home of my late grandfather, and current home to my grandmother. My grandmother literally lives on a farm in the middle of her large-ish small town, and knows everyone. Since I had to retrieve my great-grandparents' dining room table and my great-grandfather's chifarobe, we decided to rent our fifteen foot Budget truck in Hot Springs. It also pays to have a woman who has lived in the town for 60+ years and knows EVERYONE... considering it got us a 20% discount. Lesson learned: never underestimate the power of hospitality, kindness, and the charm of a demur, Southern 83-year-old woman.

This is Marge the Barge. She is a fifteen foot Budget truck with car tow off the back. She has a 32-gallon tank and gets eight miles to the gallon (we were really going green on this one). The little person with her arms spread wide is Elise, my new roomie. The 6'1" dude standing next to her is Nate, Elise's boyfriend. Nate helped a LOT during this move, and is the first person I must thank. Thank you, thank you, THANK you Nathan... I think it's also important to mention that Nathan became enamored of my grandmother and kept talking about how he was going to come visit her by himself... I halfway believed him. As Elise noted, "She's a very special lady."

This is the stress on Elise's face driving the Budget truck from Short Bennett's (the rental place- of COURSE my grandmother knew Shorty and his two children personally). It is important to mention at this time that one cannot go backwards in a Budget truck with car tow off the back, one can only go forwards. Let the shenanigans begin...

Act One, Scene Four: Nashville

So while Nate and Elise made their way from Memphis to Nashville, my childhood friend Emily and I moved all of my furniture and suitcases into the garage and set up box fans. It was (surprise, surprise) HOT in Nashville, but just as we got ready to load the truck the skies opened up and it STORMED. I'm not talking just a little rain, but a torrential downpour. We had to wait it out (I ended up falling asleep for a bit) and then we got started unloading Elise's stuff into the garage with my stuff. Emily's parents Bill and Laura came over (I've known them since I was five) and it's a good thing they did because it turns out her dad is a genius at packing. I'm not kidding. It took him just over an hour directing all of us to get everything in the truck, with room to spare. It was incredible. We then feasted on pizza afterwards and rested up for the journey the next day.

This is the view of the truck completely packed. Incredible, isn't it?
Just a shot of some of the stuff in the back and the genius of Papa Rod.
These are Emily's parents, who deserve a HUGE thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Emily is not pictured, but she deserves a thank you as well.

Digression: At kindergarten orientation, I walked into Ms. McCullough's classroom where my new teacher promptly took a picture of me for the bulletin board. There were little pieces of tape on the floor to mark where it was appropriate to sit, and there was an empty piece next to a little girl who was picking puff paint off of her dress. Ms. McCullough directed me to go sit next to her, so I sat down and watched the little girl. She eventually looked up at me, saw me watching her, and asked if I wanted to help. I said, "Yes," and we continued the job. After a few minutes, she stopped, looked at me, and said, "Will you be my friend?" I said, "Yes," again, and Emily and I have been friends ever since.

So, remember that storm I talked about? Also remember how we weren't supposed to drive the truck with car tow backwards? Well, that evening before pizza we were trying to store the truck on the street facing the right direction and as we got to a huge turn around point, a tree fell in the road. The view from above is what we saw from a distance.

This is what it looked like up close. We had to take the car tow off the back of the truck, CAREFULLY back the truck into a large driveway, turn it around, and re-attach the car tow. The car tow is tricky because there are these little wires that hook the lights off the back of the car tow up to the truck, and they do not enjoy being attached and re-attached. Anyway, we finally got going the way we needed to be, and rested for the evening. The next day Elise's dad drove Elise's car in from Memphis, and we put Yvonne (Elise's car) on the car tow. Lemme tell you, THAT was sweaty, confusing work. I don't recommend it. We ended up delaying departure for an hour. However, we made it out of Nashville that day, and out of the state, stopping in Virginia for the night.

INTERMISSION

Act One, Scene Three: Memphis

After a hard day's work in the sweaty humidity, Elise, Nate and I went for a swim at my uncle's house, then enjoyed a nice dinner with my grandmother, cousins Josh and Natalie, their daughter Maddie, and my aunt and uncle. It was a really pleasant evening- Uncle Danny got out Dad-Dad's old Gibson guitar and Nate played for us. He's a professional musician in Nashville so he's exceptionally talented. Elise and Nate left that night for Memphis and I spent a quiet evening with my grandmother, discussing life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. I got up early the next morning and headed back to Memphis, going straight to Elise's mom's house, where an army of friends arrived to help.

This is the first friend, his name is Alex. And that is Charmander there in the passenger's seat. Alex found Elise's brother's stuffed Pokemon character (Elise's brother is also named Alex, incidentally), and our friend Alex geeked reeeealllly hard and decided he needed to go back to Montana with him. For those of you who don't know him, Elise and I know Alex from camp and he is from a suburb of Nashville but goes to school in Montana.

This is Elise's mom's dog Ginny- as in Ginny Weasley. This is significant because I have a four-legged roommate named Luna- as in Luna Lovegood. For those of you who don't understand the reference, please go pick up a J.K. Rowling novel stat.

That is Nate moving Elise's bed into the Budget truck. We literally just hurled her stuff back there, because we knew it was all going to be unloaded and re-loaded in Nashville the next day once my stuff got added. It was also HOT, and HUMID in Tennessee. I'm not kidding- summer has been abysmal.
This is Ellen, Elise's former roommate in Memphis and one of my favorite people in the world. She takes EXCELLENT photos and just started a photography degree at an art school in San Francisco. You should check out her work: http://whatsinaframe.blogspot.com. Ellen also helped a LOT with this move, so she also deserves a shout-out: thank yoouuuuu Elllluuuunnnnn....

Men hard at work. Elise being a minx.

Anyway, after Elise's mom's house we went to Elise's dad's house, where we proceeded to get almost nothing accomplished. I left that evening for Nashville to finish packing with Luna in tow. Elise and Nate drove the Budget truck over from Memphis to Nashville the next day, and there wasn't any room in the truck for Luna, so she had to come with me. She was an excellent traveling companion the whole trip.

Act One, Scene Two: The Milk Barn

Once we got Marge the Barge parked in front of the milk barn, it was time to attempt the liberation of my table. Mom had brought the six chairs back with her from Hot Springs on a previous trip, which we recovered with a pretty brown, floral fabric. Use your imagination kids, because this emancipation was quite a feat of nature...

This is the milk barn, where my great-grandfather bottled and sold milk. It is now full of stuff.

Here is the empty space where the table was after we removed it. As you can see, there's a lot of stuff in the milk barn. If you look really closely, you can see a dip in the floor. This is the side of the barn where the cows used to be, and that dip is where they did their business. My grandfather used to have to clean that out.

This is the hole through which we had to move the table. That's right- that's a huge tractor in the way. My grandmother literally handed over the keys to the barn, said good luck, and left. No one knows how to move the tractor except my cousin Josh, who was elsewhere during this process. So since the truck couldn't be moved and we couldn't go through it, and we couldn't go around it, and we couldn't go under it...

We had to go over it. Through this space. Right here. Holding the table over our heads, finagling it this way and that, praying to Almighty Allah that nothing terrible happened.

BUT we did it. It was incredible. This is just one final shot of the rear wheel of the tractor and the door of the milk barn. We then had to drive my grandfather's truck to the downstairs door of my grandparent's house, unload my other great-grandfather's chiffarobe (he is on my grandmother's side, whereas the dining room table and chairs come from my grandfather's side) from a back closet into the truck, drive the truck down to the milk barn, and load the chiffarobe into the back of the Budget truck. It was sweaty, it was hot, but it was worth it, for now my house in New Haven has two sets of great-grandparents represented.

Trivia: The dining room table was used by my namesake, Gracie Rowe.

A Long Day(s) Journey Into New Haven: A Comedic Drama in Two Acts

This is the sometimes spastic, sometimes tragic, sometimes frantic story of my (and Elise's) move to New Haven. There are many people to thank for making this process possible, some of whom are pictured here. Read on for a photographic journey with commentary organized in play-form to read of our great feat...

In the Beginning.

All this happened, more or less.

Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.

You don't know about me, without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, but that ain't no matter.

My dear sir, Your letter only reached me a few days ago. I want to thank you for its great and kind confidence. I can hardly do more.

Mason City. To get there you follow Highway 58, going northeast out of the city, and it is a good highway and new.

You better not never tell nobody but God. It'd kill your mammy.

In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.

As you can see, far greater writers than I can ever hope to be have started far greater works of literature than this could ever hope to be, and yet I don't know how to begin. So let me start by saying:

Shalom. Welcome. I'm Gracie, and this is my blog, "A Common Grace."

Why "A Common Grace"? Here is a short list of reasons:

1) Being a 20-something is not that unusual. Everyone goes through it. It's "common." And I'm going to document a portion of my experience here because, let's face it, I feel like I'm journeying backwards into adulthood with my eyes closed. And I want you to be a part of it.

2) I'm also beginning an adventure at Yale Divinity School, pursuing a Master of Divinity, thus my leap of faith into adulthood will include an attempt to tease out the significance of the Protestant and Calvinistic notion of common grace (along with a myriad of other theological, sociological, political, historical, etc. etc. etc.) concepts. These struggles will, invariably, find their way onto this blog.

3) I'm a cradle Episcopalian and believe, as our cherished Book of Common Prayer indicates, that something can be learned from existing "in common." Like how common prayer requires not only community, but also that which is public, I believe the discovery of grac(i)e, will require community, and cannot only exist inside me but outside me as well. I'm taking the words of Parker Palmer (who is really just recycling an old Quaker adage) to heart: "Let your life speak." Aye, Aye- Cap'n. Let's see what I (we) hear.

4) If you recognized any of the quotes above, you have someone to thank. Whether it's an English teacher, a Sunday school teacher, a librarian, a parent, a grandmother or an uncle who writes you notes in calligraphy on parchment paper, someone showed you something very special. For each one of those works I referenced above, I gleaned a little bit of Truth and was irrevocably changed for the better. So what is also common about this blog, and my musings that lie therein, is also the communal influence of my teachers, be they friend, family member, or employed professional, whomever they are and may have been. I am for them, and they are for me. Always.

In closing, you must forgive me a few things: my spelling- it's atrocious. My grammar- it isn't always on par. My verbosity- given that this isn't something I'm turning in for a grade, I refuse to say in five words what I can say in fifteen. My romanticism and sentimentality- they are, invariably, a corrupting lens I refuse to take away. My proclivities- I love Tar Heel basketball. I love my family. I love my ideals. I also love that I tend towards a "Dodo" way of life in that I often forget my cell phone, lose my keys in the house, and get lost frequently. I'm more than happy to take the gentle ribbing that comes with this, but I don't intend to change and I will continue to, as they say, let my freak flag fly here on the web. Enjoy.

If you find any of these things distasteful, no one is forcing you to stare at the screen. Go read one of those books referenced above instead.