...huh.

A year ago tomorrow, we moved out of Charleston. That was also the second of two rounds of spinal steroid shots (yes; got shots in spine, drove twelve hours). So it was sort of the extreme point of my life for the last, oh, six or seven years. I'm not sure whether to call it a high or a low.

Well. Remember drugged packing?

So here I am, a year later, UNpacking. In a semi-coherent state. There's all this stuff... missing. You know, like the dish rack I kept in the one side of the sink. And my waffle iron. My bread-making bowl. Assorted kitchen gadgets. A loaf pan. Lots of silicone bakeware I never really liked. I've got vague, foggy memories of throwing them out. Very foggy. The husbeast and his dad (who came down to help us wrangle the Goob) confirm we had piles and piles of things left out for the trash.

Huh.

What's really worrying me is, I also have vague memories of throwing out BOOKS. Around here, that's a much bigger deal than a waffle iron.

At any rate, the majority of unpacking and putting away in the kitchen is done. I've got one box left, containing my grandmother's china. I'm waiting until everything else is unpacked in the house before I tackle that, to minimize breakage.

Next up, unpacking the work space. Last I checked, it looked like this.

If no one hears from me in a month or two, send in the National Guard. With martinis and pretzels.

Lifestyles of the small and fameless.

So. Projects. Yeah. Not much knitting or spinning to show, but as everyone now knows, we re-did the Goober's room while she was at the beach last week. We've still got some stuff left to do - most importantly, new shelving in her closet, so that it takes the place of a dresser and gives her more play space out in her room. That's this coming payday. We had to stretch out the cost a tad; I'm sure most everyone relates to that.

I actually matched the paint chips to the bed spread we already had, because I knew from past bitter experience that it's easier to match paint to textiles than vice-versa.

Not bad. Not perfect, but the shade of the purple is the same, so it works without driving me insane. I will be doing the same thing in the guest room; we've already got the spread for that room, too. In that case we're talking super-light sage green.


We took down some awful beige curtains that looked like burlap and all the heavy curtain rods and everything. In place we put some white blinds and some thin drapes of white cotton with flowers and bugs appliqued on them. The flowers and bugs are kind of hard to see with the light behind them, but you can get the idea down below the window, against the wall.



After that it was a matter of throwing out about fifty pounds of toys (or donating them to GoodWill) to make room, and putting in some shelving.


There will be more white shelving going in, again spreading out the cost a bit. But you can see she's got an actual play space now, and she calls it "MY room".

I also want to put glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the ceiling in constellations. I've got those, I just need to get motivated about climbing back on that damn ladder I lived on last week while painting.

So, there you go. Not done yet, but the major work is finished.

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In related new-house news, Sekhmet really likes the skylight in the kitchen.

She tracks the sunbeam across the floor every day, edging along as it moves so she can stay in the warm spot. Once it's gone, she goes and sleeps on the guest room bed, which I suspect she considers hers.

Still breathing.

My current work in progress - other than unpacking - is redoing the Goober's bed room. She's at the beach for a week with her grandparents, and I hope that's enough time to put on a new coat of paint, haul out some ugly furniture, and put in some cute stuff.

The previous owners left a really ugly, hunormous, pre-fab fake mahogany desk. It was in the Goober's future room, and too big to get out through the door. When it was put together, they used glue or something, because we couldn't get it apart. After puzzling over it for a few days, the husbeast got fed up, pulled out the saws-all, and, well.

Took a while to clean up the sawdust, but it's gone now. The trash men hauled it off this morning.

Now? It's purple paint and painkillers for me.


I'd rather be knitting. I keep reminding myself that the Goobie will squee with delight when she gets home and sees this. I'd mentioned, nearly a year ago, that when we got our new house, we'd paint the walls. Within a week of moving in, the Goob wanted to know when we were painting. I put her off with some lame excuse and she pouted, thinking that meant no. Hah. She's in for a surprise. Assuming I get this done by Friday night.

Definitely.

Definitely have shingles. I'm on Valtrex for them. Last time I took this drug, it kicked my ass, but so far I seem to be tolerating it all right. We'll see how long it lasts.

Definitely mad at the storage facility. We unpacked my wine glasses and stuff this morning, and not one was broken. Which means the packers did a wonderful job. I know the movers at this end did a wonderful job because I watched them. Which leaves the weak link in the chain. Boutai will be kicked.

Definitely have cool in-laws. They ate on the way here so that I wouldn't have to cook for them and not feel obligated. They didn't eat breakfast either; they got up with the Goober at six AM and were on the road at seven, planning to get an hour or so down the road and then eat. So all I had to do was hang out with them for a while last night and chat, and hug them a couple times. They even brought their own bedding and made up the guest room bed for themselves.

Definitely getting more done without having to corral, argue, punish, or find the Goober every five minutes.

Definitely glad to see my stuff. I hugged my iced tea maker about an hour ago. Everything I don't remember owning is going in the trash; everything I missed is hugged and cleaned off (not necessarily in that order).

Definitely having a good day.

A quickie.

The movers spent about six, eight hours here today, dropping off all our stuff. Huh. After living out of a suitcase for a year, wow. We've got a lot of stuff. The husbeast overheard me telling the washing machine "It's so good to see you! You have no idea how I've missed you." and I caught the Goober hugging the couch.

Unfortunately they lost a bunch of our hardware to put stuff together, raked a hole in the finish of my kitchen table, ripped some veneer off a dresser, scratched the dryer to shit... well. Yeah. This was not the fault of the movers who delivered the stuff today. This is on the motherfucking cocksuckers who had it in storage. If they actually stored my washing machine and refrigerator (oh, the fridge; it's full of black mold) in a controlled environment, inside, I will drink a bottle of fabric softener. Someone's ears are getting pinned back over this one.

But, the movers today were nice, and my stuff is here. I love my stuff. The husbeast is almost cheerful and I think I might have caught him not frowning once.

Tomorrow the in-laws show up to stay overnight, and then disappear to the beach, taking the Goober with them. Meaning I need to find the guest room bed and sheets for it, before tomorrow. And find the stove to cook dinner. Or something.

Fun part? In the morning, I have a doctor's appointment. It looks like I have shingles.

Yeah. So, it's pretty much the fucked-up norm around here again.

Things I love about my house.

A photo essay, by Yours Truly.

Yes, that's where I've been. Moving. I think I broke my last nail today, and our household goods from South Carolina don't get delivered until Thursday. In the mean time, living here has allowed me to find all sorts of great stuff that we never noticed (or I didn't realize would be so awesome) on the walk-throughs and tours we did.

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There's a skylight in the kitchen/dining room. Of course I knew that, but I didn't realize how nice it would be. I park under it, at the breakfast bar with my net book, whenever I have a moment. Saves money, too. We don't have the lights on in there much, except at night.

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Two and a half car garage. The days of tools in my front closet, or in my dining room, are over! Woohoo!! Plus the hub's happy with his toy truck near him. And I'll have somewhere to park my Jeep indoors. But really? YAY NO TOOLS IN MY HOUSE!

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A den with a gas fireplace. With air blowers on it, to keep the room toasty warm. We get another epic winter, and the power goes out, we'll be good.

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A kickass future work space, once I get it unpacked. The husbeast's aunt even gave me a gently used rug (a very nice one that I think is wool) for it, that will match the futon.

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A laundry room. With a laundry sink. Considering I've been using a communal laundry room for a year, and had my washer and dryer in the garage in South Carolina for five years. This pleases me immensely. (The washer and dryer get here with the rest of our stuff.)

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THREE!! FRIGGING!! BATHROOMS!!! Every person in the family can take a break at the same time!!! !! ! !

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There is a roundy-round cupboard in a corner of my kitchen that will proceed to hold all the baking supplies I like to have - a whole lot of them. Plus it's an efficient use of space. Double win. In the other corner is a shelf with a hinged door that will allow me to stow heaps and piles of pots and pans and baking dishes.

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The guy who used to live here was a retired carpenter. He knew the guy who built the house. Everything in the house is square. Lines line up. Corners are ninety degrees (unless they're supposed to be something else). Ducts and vents aren't crooked. It's amazing. Last couple places we've been in, the WALLS didn't even line up.

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Related amazement; he did all the woodwork. Not only is it square as well, he went to the trouble of mitering all the ends as well as corners. This makes me smile every time I see it.

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Aaaand, this is the view from the window over the kitchen sink. It's similar to the view off the back porch, which I also love but forgot to take a photo of. That little red curl in the lower left is a hose going to the sprinkler. So far the Goob's been out in the back yard every day. Every hour or two, she says "I love our new house!"

I think we did pretty well.

Quick update.

We closed on the house yesterday. It's a done deal, and it's ours. We've got keys and everything. The previous owners are paying us rent for a week while they pack up. Their movers show up on the sixth, and we start hauling our stuff in on the seventh. (We're plotting how to get the beds over there that night so we can start living there instantly.)

The Goober is getting more and more impatient to get out of this apartment. Which means she's getting more and more awful. She's driving me insane, and there's been a lot of getting sent to her room and being made to sit in the middle of the living room with the TV off, pondering her bad behavior.

The next clusterfuck on the horizon is the movers bringing our stuff from South Carolina. We scheduled it for delivery the fifteenth. For some reason, we know not what, they don't like that date and want to deliver it earlier or later. (If it was such a bad date, why in bloody hell didn't they say the day wouldn't work and schedule us for something else??!??) The hub got a call today from them, saying our stuff was on a truck in the state TODAY, and they wanted us to pay $500 to store it up here until they could deliver it. Huh? Where in the contract is that wrinkle?

So the stress is still high, but it is shifting, and there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

Or perhaps it's an oncoming train.