A Nebraska homebody does a lot of moving

Here are the relevant facts of my life thus far:

I spent the first 5 years of my life in Omaha, Nebraska, but I did my "growing up" in a village which, according to the 2010 census, has a population of 171 (although when I was a child, it was bustling with over 250 residents, if I remember correctly).

I went to high school in a nearby "big town" that has almost 3,000 residents. Out of the 55 students in my graduating class, two of us went to college out of state. We went all the way to Iowa.

After college, I got married, and then things picked up a bit. In our nearly 11 years of marriage, T and I have lived in 9 different homes or apartments in 4 different states and 2 different countries. We have lived in four distinct regions of this country, in cities and small towns, near mountains and swamps. We have grown accustomed, at different times, to seeing alligators, deer, bighorn sheep, or monkeys on drives and hikes. The longest we have lived in one domicile is 3 years.

And yet I still claim to hate--nay, detest--moving. I dread packing. I abhor unpacking. New situations are very stressful for me, and not in that "I love adrenaline" way that they seem to be for some of my friends and, perhaps, my husband. I am an introvert. Making friends is very difficult for me.

I certainly would never say that I have wanderlust.  I don't even like to travel. But I do like having traveled. So after assessing the facts of my life thus far, I have come to the conclusion that I must have wanderlike. And because I sense another bout of wandering coming on, I have preemptively begun this blog for chronicling my adventures, both the exciting and the mundane.

Please stay tuned!