We had some challenges getting here, but we are officially in Peoria now. (I wonder what the proper term for us would be? Is Peorian a word? Illinoians? I have no idea, but it doesn't really matter since I still/will probably always consider myself a Floridian.)
Anyway, we loaded up a 26 ft. moving truck (with the help of our wonderful family and a few friends) and Wayne drove it from Florida to Illinois with two friends (who were also driving my car) and our dog, Wally. The trip was going pretty well until the truck broke down about 70 miles away from Peoria. In the middle of the road. On a single lane ramp to the Interstate. Completely blocking traffic. Nice, right?
Apparently the people in the cars behind them where less than thrilled about the situation. Luckily, a tow truck driver arrived within the hour and towed them all the way to our house in Peoria. (Imagine a tow truck, pulling a 26 ft moving truck, with a Mustang on a trailor behind it.) Needless to say, the trip took a while, but they made it safe and sound.
I flew to Peoria the next day with Anderson and my mom. We spent the next few days unpacking like crazy, but we managed to squeeze in a little sightseeing as well. And now, we are officially residents of Illinois. (Hey, I can say that without crying now!) #Imissfloridasomuch
Anderson after a bath
Bridge at the Peoria Riverfront
Farm field in Peoria
Anderson and Grandma
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