Done and Dusted?

Well, not quite...

We have finally settled into our new home, somewhat. All of the papers have been signed, we closed on the old house, October mortgage payment has been made on the new house, but there are several things we want to change, update or replace. However, after twelve years of renovating our last home, we just don't know where to start. One small renovation project begins another, begins another, and so on.

The previous owners were young newlyweds with a small child, and they weren't the best at preventative maintenance, let alone cleaning. So we've spent the last month cleaning sticky handprints off of walls, windows, and whatever else a sticky two year old can get his sticky paws on. Upgrading all the CFL lights in the house to LEDs revealed much of the grime. The dirt and grime on everything needed to be scrubbed with magic erasers, steel wool, soap, water, and a lot of elbow grease. We have yet to get it all, but we started the "to-do" list of several minor repairs around the house needing attention. New toilet seats, furnace filter replacement, light switches replaced, faulty GFCI plug replaced, pressure washing both the front and back patio, installing cat doors to keep Basil Kitteh from wailing all night wanting out, and deterring the neighbor kittehs from coming in.

Trobairitz is cursing the new kitchen, we had designed and installed the Ikea kitchen in the old house to maximize storage with an abundance of drawers, ceiling height cabinets, corner cabinets with a lazy susan, and a huge porcelain farmer sink. The new house with contractor special kitchen cabinets are short, shallow, and lack any innovative thought into efficiency whatsoever. Something we've both had to adapt to is finding a place for everything and then remembering where that was when we need it.

The bathrooms are also contractor specials with budget toilets, sinks, faucets, and one piece tub and shower surrounds. Ack! How do people live like this? I won't even get started on the carpet and linoleum throughout the house.

I jest really.

It is a nice house and much better than the 16 other houses we viewed previously. It is a 2007, so it has all modern plumbing, wiring, windows, insulation, siding, roof and underground irrigation. It doesn't "need" anything per say, and we've settled in just fine. The neighborhood is quiet, exactly what we were looking for; I am sitting here on a Saturday afternoon enjoying the silence.

We hear a small private plane fly overhead once in awhile as we live near the airpark, and a train horn off in the distance, but we don't mind it at all, nor the light traffic going by on the road behind us. Those sounds come, and then they're gone. There's a rooster down the way, and the cows moo in the distance, just what you'd expect living in the country. No kids screaming, no dogs barking, or chickens squawking, nor pigs grunting like we tolerated in the city.

We'll get to the updates and renovations, once we prioritize the list, in due time and on our schedule.

I have one more loose end to tidy up in the next couple of weeks, but in the meantime it's good to be home.



Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. 

~Melody Beattie