Unpacking
Finishing construction on a house during a global pandemic is difficult, but moving in is easy. Actually, it’s better than easy: It’s a blessed distraction from the news and a never-ending activity list to keep me at home. So far we have found only three of our forks; the rest are in a box somewhere. My afternoon has become a treasure hunt, and doesn’t that sound like fun right about now?
Speaking of fun, I just took Tuck on a walk around the neighborhood. Each day we take a different route, and I admire the houses and try to identify the native plants and trees that my neighbor Melissa has been teaching me. This afternoon I met a new neighbor who shouted from her garage, “You’re welcome to do the activity my daughter drew on the road!“ I looked down and saw a hopscotch/Mother May I? hybrid, where after the 18th block my mission became to spin around, dance, make a funny face—that kind of thing. The mother and daughter watched me and clapped, telling me that I was the first one to do it. Instead of a finish line at the end it said in bubble letters, “WASH UR HANDS.” It made me sad that what started as a good-hearted way to distract neighbors led me exactly to the topic I was hoping to avoid.
Today we received a shipment from IKEA. It’s a sleeper sofa for the loft—the same sleeper sofa that served as my first bed after college. Back in 2011, I lived with my friend Marla‘s mom, Lisa, and together we renovated the cottage in her backyard, which I later moved in to. It was only 400 square feet—half the size of the Dog House!—and since I didn’t have room for a bed and a couch, I bought a sleeper sofa that has remained a happy memory of my first taste of independent living. Ten years later, I am putting together the same sofa for my first taste of homeownership.
I am doing well. Mark is doing well, too, along with the dog and cat. We are all happy. A few times each day we look around and say to each other, “This is a great house.” It came just in time.
