Well, perhaps I can be lucky and the all-seeing eye of Finland will forget that a little Irish-American from the South is hiding away in Finland, maybe peddling Southern goods on the street.
Not really. Sami (the boyfriend) has called UVI several times to inquire all the little nuances of visas and permits. We're still working the specifics out ourselves, and honestly he is more optimistic than me. When he says we can do something, I say show it to me in writing because (from experience with my own government) what one official says another writes something totally different.
But surely, eventually, I'll be there for good and living there in a permanent basis. And that is the pinhole light at the end of the tunnel (but let's not hope it's a train).
But none of this still solves the problem of shipping the books I'm so fond of. I decided to part with the car, the bed, the chest of drawers, and other large items that I know would costs too much to ship and probably would not do me much good anyway, but how could I ever part with my life's collection of books?

Never! So, they must be shipped (along with the cat who has a wool eating disorder).
