aren't we done yet?

It feels like months since I've had time to write a decent post. Work on the house is all-consuming, always one more project to complete, one more box to unpack, and spending even a few minutes to do yoga, write, or just sit on my ass feels like such a waste of time.

I know it's not. I know that I need to recharge my batteries. I know I deserve some down time. I also know that I can't fully relax in our new beautiful home until everything is in its place and our daily life can proceed without the frustration of not knowing where the soap is or having to sort through a billion boxes to find a light bulb.

We've accomplished an incredible amount over the last few weeks and every day we get closer to living in a functional space (I'm leaving decorating dreams aside - those projects will take months).

Thom has been the best about plunging ahead and attacking box after box even if the contents don't have a great home yet. He unpacked almost the entire kitchen, and while I'll have to go through and rearrange all his work, at least everything is out of boxes and reachable. My focus has been creating storage space and doing handyman projects. I've loved building shelves, organizing closets, hanging art, and making minor adjustments on cabinetry and appliances.

Even though we've been living in various states of disarray for the past two weeks, it is infinitely better than being in a hotel. We love this space. We love the way we can spend time together in it. We love the memories we're already creating here.

I'm tired and I could use a massage and a weekend off, but overall life is very good right now.

bring protection

The natural inclination is to view my cats with the same loving affection I afford my son--to see their little quirks and imperfections as unique elements of their personalities, not good or bad but simply them. This rose-colored view has become more difficult in the process of selling our house. Now we have to be concerned with the needs and sensitives of strangers, and that forces us to look at our cats' charming proclivities as, er, problems.

The cats are their own souls, completely singular. Edgar is a sweet, fat, lazy boy whose difficulty finding the litter box and anxious bowels create messy, unpleasant situations when you're asking people to come into your house, relax, and imagine it as their own.























Poe, on the other hand, loves NO ONE save mommy and daddy, and openly shows her displeasure at those who invade her space (i.e. any part of our house). She has been known to corner guests on top of their beds, to chase cleaning people and sitters around the kitchen island, hissing, baring claws, and generally scaring the wits out of them.

























So imagine coming to our open house: you walk in, notice the lovely floor plan, the beautiful windows, the great kitchen, and just as you are saying to yourself, "I could live here," you are greeted by an angry black cat ready to slice off your Achilles. You run frantically around the room, tour forgotten, trying to find a means of escape--a hissing, angry mass at your heels--and there at the door where salvation lies, you step into a wet puddle--or worse.

Good first impression, no?

So we decided to corral the kitties while we showed our home; first at the open house, then whenever needed as new appointments arose. This experiment did not go fantastically. We brought them over to our in-laws place just around the corner and thought they would find the familiar smells comforting. Not so much. They did fine while they were there (in spite of Poe's attempt to crawl into every small, dark space and Edgar's multiple attempts to mark his territory), but when we returned home they were both emotional wrecks. They hissed at each other, fought with us, and seemed to feel generally betrayed.

We have since had to evacuate them two more times (a private showing just before we sold and the inspection this weekend). The effect of these banishments have made them even more uneasy and off-kilter.

I had no idea how difficult it would be to simultaneously sell our house and keep the kitties happy, but I am so thankful that the process is nearly over with. Can you imagine if we hadn't sold in record time, if I was carting the cats away every day or two so buyers could look at a welcoming, pee-free house?

I can only say thank you thank you to the gods of cats and real estate.

meant to be

Well, here it is my friends, after three months, a million viewings, and two failed offers, we now officially have new home.

Here, Thom checks out the new neighborhood while River rummages through a bag of books and toys we got from a yard sale (just what we need: more crap!).


















Cute street, huh? Still within walking distance of our favorite squares and Kevin and Crystal, so the location is great.

On Saturday we looked at a condo I had seen the day before, and though I thought it had potential Thom resolutely hated it (wow, sometimes we don't agree). I'm so glad he hated that place because it lead us right to our dream home.

While we were in the neighborhood, our agent thought we might like to see a house down the street that was in the process of being renovated. And when I say "in the process" what I mean is the house had been gutted and re-framed with studs... and that's it. We walked through the construction site armed only with a floor plan and our imaginations. Still, in spite of the exposed wires, plywood floors, and complete lack of walls, Thom and I both knew this was the place.

It's a four bedroom with a beautiful open plan, huge family room, and great backyard. And because it's so early in the construction process Thom and I will be able to have a hand in choosing everything from flooring to appliances to doorknobs (if we want).

We met with the developers yesterday--a lovely young couple who have quite a few houses under their belts--and we hit it off great. It was really important that we get along with them since we'll be working so closely together. They told us their ideas, we gave them some of ours, and at the end of the meeting we signed all the paperwork! It was so much nicer than the process we've been through twice before: giving our offer to our agent, staying awake all night wondering if they'll take it, only to find out the next day we've been out-bid by some crazy amount.

I'm thrilled and daunted by the prospect of designing a new space. It's going to be a lot of work in the coming months, but I'm always happy when I have a big project in front of me.

YEA!!

a visit with The Man

So Thom and I are going to see The Insurance Man today to get our house covered for fire/theft. My in-laws' recent brush with having all of their possessions stolen (see my recent post) have made us a bit paranoid and forced us into this very "adult" measure. I keep thinking I've gotten about as "adult" as I can handle, but the world finds new and horrible ways to build the pressure.

For instance, our car windshield was recently chipped by a rock and has now developed a small crack. Instead of letting it go for almost a year (like the little fender dent we got last February) I've actually called my insurance company to file a claim, figured out a glass repair company to go to, and made an appointment with them. What is the world coming to when a procrastinator like myself feels the tug of such stuffy responsibilities and actually does something about it?!

On the other hand, one sign that I haven't completely turned to the dark side is that we're leaving for a week-long trip tomorrow morning and I've only just now pinned down a cat sitter for out pets. I think there's still hope for me yet.