About Us

Following a move to Orange County, California in 2006 (our seventh move in 11 years!), I determined that the only task I looked forward to during a move was selecting, designing, and sending our moving announcement to friends, family, and business contacts.

I always feared I’d lose touch with those people I was moving away from. But, the one thing I was sure would keep me in their thoughts (and updated in their address books) was a change-of-address card that reflected us. My passion for selecting the perfect card turned into this business. And thus began the concept of www.YourPaperTrail.com.

We look forward to helping you select and design the best moving announcement and related accessories that reflects who you are, the excitement of your new location, and joyfully connects you to your friends, family, and business contacts. Best wishes for happiness in your new home!

Following an exciting 13 year career in the financial industry and a brief (yet highly anticipated) hiatus from the business world, Annette now enjoys the daily operations and marketing of www.YourPaperTrail.com.

Jake Ring has over 15 years experience in strategic planning, sales, and marketing within a wide range of international companies including large Fortune 500 companies and specialized manufacturing companies.

He provides weekly consulting on all aspects of YPT's operations.

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Need a Laugh?... Read on. These are our real life moving experiences.

Move to California…Lesson #1: Newly-relocated Midwest family of five arrive at local Orange County beach for their first of many happy beach outings. The 7-year-old twin boys don their Cubby and White Sox ball caps. Dad has legs as white as ghosts. Six-year-old boy skips through the crowd with full snorkel set placed on face. Mom has on one-piece, tummy-support swim suit (no visible tattoos). They find a nice patch of sand just in front of the crowd line so as to keep track of excited young boys. They carefully lay down the extra-large beach towel/blanket, quickly organize by placing sandals to the right, towels to the left, and cell phones and wallet in canvas beach bag. Mom adjusts her straw hat as she positions her legs for maximum rays. Dad kneels and begins to apply a thick layer of sunscreen to his face. The boys jump to their feet ready to approach the water when, suddenly, a one-foot (tsunami-like) wave engulfs them and their belongings but stops just short of the native Californian crowd line. As they gather their now 50-pound beach blanket full of water and sand and all other wet items, they hear a voice in the crowd sympathize: "Ahhhhh, look at the Midwesterners. Isn't that cute?" Lesson learned.

Move to California…Lesson #2: While exploring the contents of summer rental house, Mom notices the neighbor's lemon tree is hanging over into their back yard with lemons within reach of young boys. She has each boy quietly pick a lemon (the size of an adult fist), and then they make a big deal of cutting, eating, squeezing the lemon juice into various concoctions. Oddly, Mom and Dad are amazed at the taste, so sweet and juicy, much more tangerine-like with a distinct sourness. Dad is able to squeeze a whole glass of juice from one lemon. Wow! They grow amazing things in California. Mom and Dad begin to inquire about the legalities of picking fruit from a neighbor's tree. Can you do it if the fruit is hanging over into your yard? Recent Midwest transplants assure the family that their neighbor probably appreciates the pruning as the fruit will eventually drop and rot on the ground. The family has their first BBQ with Dad's brother and family on Sunday night. They ask him as well what his experience is with fruit from neighbor's trees. Brother listens patiently as Mom and Dad go on and on about their lemon experiments and all the different recipes they've added the juice to, how juicy and sweet California lemons are, etc. Finally Brother nods and says, "By the way, those are grapefruits." Lesson #2: Grapefruits are not lemons.

Move to California…Lesson #3: We had heard of the famed "June Gloom" from a sister-in-law in San Diego—gray cloudy mornings which give way to sunny afternoons—but we had yet to experience such an event until today. The previous 10 days have been warmer than normal, 85-95 degrees and a little humid, which is perfect for us but wilts the native. But sure enough, gray skies eventually appear (along with a dip in temperature) and we figure it must be perfect for a morning hike through the neighborhood canyon-like park reserve, as that California sun gets a to be a little much day after day after day. So off we go, Mom and boys, to get our exercise when we pass a neighbor who greets us with a "June gloom! Perfect for walk. Not too hot, you know?" This confirms our strategy that when the sun takes a break it is time to be out and about. We march up the street about a 1/2 mile, turn right into the park reserve, and admire the view of rolling hills which lead to a beach somewhere in the distance. Because we have yet to get a map of the trails, we realize the entrance to the reserve is down another 1/4 mile. So we hydrate and set off, boys grumbling that the original plan turned out to be a bum one. Mom endures the complaining as the poor boys have had to put up with a big move, la, la, la. We reach the actual entrance, a good 30 minutes into our walk, when the sky opens up and begins to rain. Boys' complaining turns into outright LOUD whining, even though Mom tries to point out the fun and mystery of nature. Why even try? Lesson #3: Gray sky equals rain, even in Southern California.

Move to California…Lesson #4: While finalizing move-in details with owner of rental, Mom notices cold water faucet in MB shower has a leak streaming into tub. Owner, a professor at nearby university, tries his hand at the repair and breaks the faucet handle all together. Owner promises he'll get a plumber out ASAP although “good help is hard to find.” We sympathize and realize the guest bath has a perfectly acceptable shower to use in the meantime. Surprisingly, a plumber calls the next day, Thursday, and leaves a message saying he'll be by the next business day to address the broken handle and leak. Friday comes and goes without a plumber visit, but Mom and Dad have so much going on they hardly realize until Monday morning that the plumber was a no-show. So they leave him an encouraging message on his cell noting that "business awaits and that they will be at the house to let him in. So, PLEASE kindly respond to provide an ETA." Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday drift into the history books and the inconvenience of five bodies in and out of one shower proves more than bothersome and gives Mom yet another thing to complain about as they wait for just the right home to buy. On Friday, she calls the plumber's cell, yet again, to leave a message and promptly gets a reply voicemail message (broken up due to many beautiful, yet cell zone-challenged, hills in the area) on her cell: "[Crackle, crackle] for sure you heard about...[crackle] wells. It's been taking all of my attention. [Crackle] be there next business day." Mom and Dad surmise there must be water wells in the area and that some tragic event (earthquake, fire?) has called many plumbers into service. Four days later and two weeks from original phone call, the plumber (a scruffy-looking, late 30's, sun-drenched blond guy) shows up, fixes the faucet and then lounges on the patio as Mom happily* pays the outrageous bill for 1 1/2 hours of service. She feels compelled to chide the plumber regarding the two-week wait for his service. Plumber responds with an incredulous look on his face, "Whoa! I told you about the swells." [Pause] "Swells?" Mom shakes her head in utter cluelessness. Plumber grabs the check from Mom, mounts his skateboard (which helps him traverse the 30 feet from patio to truck in street) as he says, "Eight- to 12-foot swells off Salt Creek beach. Nobody would miss that surf, ya know? Besides I haven't worked Mondays and Fridays since the 90's." Lesson #4: Plumbers' hours equal Tuesday-Thursday, unless surf is more than eight feet.

* Rental owner has agreed to reimburse.