I cannot hope to give a very thorough account of the time that has passed since my last blog entry, but I will do what I can. As Inigo Montoya said to the Man in Black, “Let me ’splain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.”
We have been in the new house since the end of January. We have drywall, primed but not painted by the kids and me, and we have tile floors. Generous gifts have enabled us to bring the house much closer to completion than what we first anticipated.
We don’t have trim or cabinets; our sinks are held up by wooden frames. We still need doors for Daniel’s room, Emilie’s room, and a linen closet. The exterior of the house still needs to be painted. Other odds and ends of things yet to be done include curtains, a doorknob for the laundry room, and some of the closet shelving—all minor jobs that can be done at our leisure. The main thing is, we are in the house.
We are in the house! I still repeat it to myself every day, and I haven’t stopped marveling. Two thousand spacious square feet. A bedroom for each kid. Two bathrooms. We revel in light and space.
“I’m so happy,” Greg tells me night after night. Deep contentment envelops us. We are home.
The man who for many years has leased this land from my mother-in-law is retiring. He let his lease run out at the end of February and took his cattle a few days ago, so we are truly alone out here. We need fear no bovine depredations of our propane tank, well water tank, vehicles, compost heap, or future garden.