Agents of Entropy

en·tro·py  -n [en-truh-pee] 

1.  a thermodynamic quantity that changes in a reversible process by an amount equal to the heat absorbed or emitted divided by the thermodynamic temperature. It is measured in joules per kelvin

2.  a statistical measure of the disorder of a closed system expressed by S  = k log P  + c  where P  is the probability that a particular state of the system exists, k  is the Boltzmann constant, and c  is another constant

3.  lack of pattern or organization; disorder

It’s the second law of thermodynamics. For all you liberal arts majors out there, it goes something like this:  energy spontaneously disperses from being localized to becoming spread out if it is not hindered from doing so. My thermodynamics professor at NC State once said that if you closed up a clean room and did not disturb it for a length of time, when you reopened it, it would be dusty. That’s entropy. More simply, if you turn off the oven, it cools off. When you open a Coke Zero, it goes ppshhht. If you take your bike to Emerald Isle, it rusts.

My children are agents of entropy. They like neither order nor cleanliness and will subconsciously do anything to thwart them. It takes a lot of energy to clean and organize and prepare. And the Raban children will have none of it.  No sooner do I have a box of toys carefully sorted when they have them all unpacked and strewn through the playroom.  Whenever I segregate an item for travel, it is immediately desegregated to the general population.  I am no longer David. I am Sisyphus.

I’m trying desperately to keep my sense of humor about all this. I keep reminding myself that they are just kids, and kids just want to have fun. What’s fun about a house full of boxes and no toys or electronics? Well, hide and seek for one thing. Catching dying grasshoppers to feed to the turtles. Making dinner with Mom.

So, clearly I’ve spent the last week prepping for our upcoming move. We also celebrated Lindsay's birthday. In my spare minutes, I’ve taken a few photos.

Happy 8th, Lindsay!

Los Poblanos Fields

Mr. Ross' truck

Truck detail

I shared with a dear friend today that this move is a real test of my faith. I can feel God stretching me and I just want it to be over. I’m glad he’s not done with me, but I also wish he didn’t trust me so much.

The packers arrived today and the moving truck arrives Thursday. After all that cleaning, you would not believe how dusty my house is. Darn you, Entropy!