So, we moved.

To a different house.

Directly to the north and exactly one house up the street.

In Williston.

Since we are here about more than we are at home (although they are only three hours away from each other), this town and the people of Scott's company have become important to me and to how I view home and our family. I grew up on a farm in rural Gackle, which is rural to Jamestown which is rural compared to Fargo, N.D. My parents and sister and I were home every night. My dad made sure he was never away so he could be with us. We played baseball on our golf course-like lawn my mom mowed pristinely.That place was my home.  My family now has a different dynamic.

I don't know if it is better or worse, but there is no time to think about that. I've had to learn what they meant by "Home is where the heart is." It's who we are and we are together.

And that is the big thing. We are together. We are able to be together even while husband and daddy are working in the oil field.... Not something I take for granted. A lot of guys are living in campers, man camps or our on location where their companies don't allow families to accompany them. Since Scott works 30 days straight and then has two weeks off, it would be a big deal if we couldn't be with him for that long.

But anyway, we moved. Vision Oil Tools has 5 staff houses. Nice accommodations. Very nice considering the town and environment. We were in staff house two - an old home renovated to make more rooms for more people. We had a very nice place. It was basically like a hotel room. The bathroom was nicer than ours at home. But when Scott would work nights, Jack and I would have to busy ourselves with something outside our room. There was a common kitchen and living room, but when shared with dirty oil guys, it got dirty. And not having my own kitchen was annoying. It is something that is livable and not a big deal in hindsight, but just something that always annoyed me. Don't get me wrong, those southern guys can cook like a son of a gun and always offered it to us, but they were men. Who left things messier than I would like.

Then Scott took a management position with the company. I am one proud wife, by the way. He amazes me how he can be good at simply everything. But his boss, who is a graciously generous man, offered us him and his wife's old apartment when the company was just starting out. It has a big living room, office area, bedroom, kitchen (!) and a huuuuuge bathroom. With the biggest tub you've ever seen. Yesterday we moved in.

First breakfast in our new place. Relax, he was not left unattended in his Bumbo death seat. 

But the thing about this house... it is, or was, a bit out of town when it was developed. We are down this u-shaped dirt road and apparently this area was occupied by some kind of cult-like group of people. Mexicans mainly, if I have understood right. I'm not sure what they did or whatnot but they liked to keep to themselves. So our house is highly influenced with Spanish accents. The woodwork is chunky and dark. But where it shows the most is our apartment. The walls in the living room have a mural painted on them. I guess painted isn't the right term... the walls are sculpted.

This is one picture of a corner of the living room (that was turned into a bedroom, but we are making a living room again). The house and hill it is on and the palm trees are raised out from the wall. There are steps and bushes that are touchable... It is the strangest thing you have ever seen. In some weird way, though, I love it. 

And this is our ridiculous tub!

But yesterday I packed up all of our things (we don't have to ove the big furniture because the company buys all of that) and moved them to our new apartment with help from some of the guys who were around. I cleaned my butt off last night and will continue again. Just so I am comfortable where I'm living. And so I know how clean the floors are. Our family dirt is one thing, but other people's dirt gives me the heeby geebies. 

So far, I've made the kitchen my own and am so in love with this place. It feels like our own home. Scott will most likely be working over the holidays, so I'm happy to have a nice place to ourselves where I can cook and bake and put up decorations. Perhaps I'll do what my friend said and have a Mexican-themed Christamas. Feliz Navidad!