You Said Goodbye...and we also said Goodbye

Friends enjoying the sun and our fun party

Our newly engaged and old-time married friends

The BBQ'ing Manly Men

More friends enjoying pfun and pfellowship

So we can have pictures of our pfriends for our new apartment's walls

Obligatory Mink-eating photo...also our dedication to the send-off party planner!

3 pfriends and a baby

pfun with bags!

Thanks for taking our advice during our speech and checkin' out our blog...and for listening to our speech...and for being great (we're only friends with the greatest of folks ;) )

Thank you for all your support, not just now, but over all of the years that we've been in the Chicagoland area.  We will miss you greatly and know we have yet to shed some tears over the loss of no longer worshiping in nearby aisles with you on Sundays, occasional jaunts to chicagoland locations and having your grace our home with your presence.  Love you, amigos!

See below for the written rendition of the poem Brad Pritts read to us at the Going Away event.  In case you didn't catch it all the first time :)

The Poetry of Bradfordiño & Lisa Pritts

ODE de P-P*    

It's a beautiful day for a barbecue
to say goodbye to some friends
and good riddance to a few.
Greg and Noel are leaving the two streams of Resurrection
for the three rivers of Trinity
and their spiritual direction.
Looking back there's a lot we could say, when we met Noel she was the MVP of the psudo-ECUSA, pre-ACNA movement at the GCSSA.


Greg kept the books as the Rez bean counter, but he needed something more,
which he found when promoted to manage...a bean counter.
But ultimately it was pull of the carts that brought us together and forced Brad and Greg to consume Golden Tee and lagers.
Yeah, Rezbearers makes you close, like sisters and brother,
especially Noel,
who dated one director and married another.
We even stood in their wedding and love the Pleur de Pfeifer Ying-Yahng,
Noel painted it on her leg,
now Brad wants to paint it besie his... (achem!) doorbell.
So now in truck and trailer they're off to grab a new chance,
Although based on their combined record, we hope they have insurance!
One assurance they can count on is straight from Don and Doña Bradfordiño:
You're part of the family -
if while here it was realized
in leaving, it's moreso.
You've gained our admiration and fondness, which time or miles can't take
and you'll remain in our prayers,
on our fridge,
and in our bathroom with your updates.

*Pritts - Pfeifers

Road Trip

So, many people have been wondering why we're moving our stuff into storage and when we're leaving officially. You can look up this information on the Timeline (following the tabbed links at the top) but you also can just continue reading.

July 23rd will be the official last days of work for the both of us. We will then photograph a wedding on the 24th. The 25th will be our last Sunday at Resurrection and then weeping and gnashing of teeth will ensue.

But once we've had our fill of sackcloth and ashes, we'll wave farewell to Chicagoland on Thursday, July 29th and head for the lovely little town of Joplin, Missouri...well, actually their KOA Kampground. Why they believe they can get away with spelling Kampground with a "K", I have no idea. Possibly because all of their Kampgrounds include gamerooms, flush toilets, resort style pools and plenty of RV space. Who knows? In any case, that's where we'll be.... Lest you think that Joplin is merely a tribute city to the late, great Janis, think again. It's actually just a pit stop on our way to San Antonio, the land of Miss Congeniality, the archnemesis of Lady Joplin (citation needed). There we will stay with Noel's family for several days and torment her poor retired Dad and chase their nephew around...and around...and around...but indoors, because Good God, it's humid!

Basically, we keep finding ourselves daydreaming about the Kampgrounds we will enkounter, the glorious majesty of El Paso/Juarez, the enchantment of New Mexico, the guano of Carlsbad Caverns (the handing over place of the lovely Katherine Noel Collins), the UFOs of Roswell, the salsa of Albuquerque, the mile-highness of Denver, the Shining hotel of Estes Park, the rapids of la Poudre River (pronounced "poo-der" [middle school giggle]), the camp (note: with a "c") where Noel worked as a young warthog, the glory of the DeZwaan aardvarks in Idaho, the yellow stones of Old Faithful, the evil that stalks the Badlands and our descent back to Chicagoland, some way, some how. Probably by the grace of God.

Then, grab our life from storage, stick it in a truck and complete our journey to Ambridge, PA. Well, it'll really be just the beginning....

Now, if we could only finish packing our stuff. Bleh. Prayers coveted and appreciated. Tata for now.


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