Moving To California

It all started a long time ago in a galaxy far far away. Like South Carolina. An amazingly beautiful little girl named Anna was born. Four days later, unbeknownst to all parties involved, a stunningly handsome boy was born in Elgin, Illinois. About twenty-three years later, they met, got married, and moved to California. I'm skipping most of the important details there, but you get the picture.

Oh, the reason why I started writing this in the first place was that I am supposed to let you all known why we chose this title for our blog. Well, that story started one morning when two movers walked in to pack for our move to California. They walk around our apartment and comment on the number of books we had on our bookcases. They were informed there were more in the basement. Unfortunately, at that particular juncture, the poor souls moving our stuff didn't understand that the word "more" was nothing short of a total inundation of boxes of books. At last count, 80 boxes of the bibliophiles' prized possessions were packed.

Four months later, we're still finding boxes of books. Most have been unpacked, but to our great dismay, our apartment is still not big enough to store them all. So here we are in the OC, which carries more similarities to the tv show than we wish to mention. Thankfully, the ironies of the materialistic culture are not lost on us. There are bookstores here too.

By the way, we would like to offer a special shout-out to the Wests for ushering us as a couple into the information age.