There is a Piano in my Bathroom

Here we are. We’ve moved (?) into our new house, Christmas has come and gone merrily, and I still have two glorious days off until returning to school and beginning the life of a commuter. Must admit, I’ve always said that my quality of life standards would prohibit a long commute yet here I am, now living an hour plus away from the school from which I have lived within four minutes for the past 17 years. Am I compromising much? We’ll find out. Are we settled in? Not even close. Do I regret moving? Not for a minute. Yet.

There is a piano in my bathroom. This is not so I can practice during bouts of menopausal digestive issues…it is because the master bath and the guest bath are the only rooms that currently have floors. The rest of our furniture and possessions are largely stacked in our garage…an 18′ by 18′ cube by my eyeball reckoning. Somewhere in that impenetrable cardboard wilderness is our furniture, the rest of our clothes, and hopefully the charger to the dustbuster. We are camping in what my sister so charmingly described as a “crack den” (minus any illegal drugs) when I sent her the requested pictures of the new place. She’s not wrong. The floors are bare plywood, the essentials that we could find are stacked and spread throughout. We hadn’t yet hung any pictures at the time I sent her photos. We since have but it just lacks a certain…you know…without floors. Hopefully we will have that remedied within the next three or so weeks. Yes, there was a mistake made, no, it wasn’t ours, but really, by next year we will be laughing at this. Bring it.

We have discovered that the fireplace doesn’t work and the pool hasn’t been opened in years. The boat lift on the dock is currently inoperable. We were here for eight days before we got internet. The driveway is long yet narrow enough that every time someone has to leave we have to jockey the vehicles around. And yet we are delighted to be here. We have seen deer and cranes in our yard, we have met several friendly neighbors (two of whom even delivered oven-warm goodies to welcome us), and we have proven once again that we can overcome some inconveniences. We will emerge more appreciative than ever once the floors are laid and we can move in the rest of our belongings and have a comfy place to sit together. We will have our family visit and be able to offer them a real bed and a home-cooked meal with the oven back in the cabinetry instead of in the middle of the kitchen floor. And, most importantly, when we arrive home in the evenings after our commutes, we will be exactly where we want to be, and there will be quiet discoveries awaiting us as well as the excitement of new adventures. Our weekends will be mini-vacations and our time will be ours. Right?