Today, I spent the majority of the day at the house with Jo and Pooka. I unpacked almost all the boxes, certainly all the ones that can be unpacked. I took off the cabinet doors to prepare them for a simple restoration and to update the hardware. I'll post some before-and-after stuff when it is done. I also cooked my first meal there. Nothing fancy, just chicken tenders.
It was a good and productive day. I am pleased. I then came home and worked on some more moving stuff. Some of that did not go as planned and will cost me a little money. I'm annoyed but not terribly shocked. I've grown up moving and moved many, many times. Each move, either something breaks, you lose something, or both. Usually both. I've lost many things and many things have broken.
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| Just once, this needs to be true. |
So, I was annoyed, but ultimately I have one very solid comfort. This house is the physical embodiment of my hope that I will never have to move again. I'll still lose things and things will break. But, it won't be because of a move.
I know that someday, something may happen that will strongly influence or force me to move. The house could be destroyed by a tornado. A person in my immediate family could win the lottery. The house is old, a billion things can go wrong and require that I live somewhere else. But, they are all fairly unlikely. That gives me hope.
I hope I never have to move again. I want to live in that house, raise my children, and offer safe haven to my family. All that gushy stuff you see people post about 'live, laugh, love' and stuff like that. I want that.
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| damn you pinterest, damn you. |
For me, it's odd. I've rented most of my life. Sometimes we lived in the house the church had for the preacher, but that is kinda like renting in a weird sort of way. I've never really understood why people get so bent out of shape about how 'bad' apartments and renting are. I think it's fine. Some are better than others, but it's not bad, there are some really nice parts too. When we were looking for a house, and closing, and packing, I had no really deep motivation to get out of the apartment. I was comfortable. But, the more time I am in the house, the more I want out of the apartment - the feeling is more intense than I expected. I can't explain it right now, it's odd.
