Holy Toledo, Where Does the Time Go?
It snowed over the weekend; my sister and my parents lost power up in Minnesota and got to play post-apocalypse, but all we got were covered cars and a beautiful white lawn. I love the snow. I don't even mind that it's below zero this morning. It makes me feel oriented, rooted in the right time of year. I am not a fan of freakish, spring-like winters in the Midwest. Last year when spring came, it didn't feel like the payoff it usually is because the winter had been so mild.
Ivan and I went couch shopping yesterday, which I was a tad bit nervous about because I've heard that couch shopping can be a real spot of tension between couples. Luckily, we were able to pass that test with flying colors. We were pretty much on the same page and neither of us had to convince the other about which one we would ultimately get. It's a futon, so that we'll have a bed option for guests. Once it's delivered and placed in the basement this Friday, the "basement project," and thus, the house, will be complete. I'm looking forward to finally crossing "finish basement" off my to-do list. (Next to-do: PAY for basement ...).
It feels so good to finally have all my boxes unpacked, to have everything in its proper place, to fully live here. It gives me such satisfaction that I find myself feeling reluctation to ever make any changes to it. Not to move to a bigger house, not to add on, not to make room for a child. Just to hunker down and enjoy this.
I've often felt this way shortly after settling into a new place. I know it's because it's so much work that once it's done I abhor the thought of doing it all again. But, as I've heard happens with childbirth, over time you forget how overwhelming it was, when the urgency of change pushes harder than the desire to stay put. But there's snow outside, a Christmas tree twinkling and a dog curled up in the living room, a cat on the window ledge and a life and home built with the love of my life. Why wouldn't I want to stay put?
Ivan and I went couch shopping yesterday, which I was a tad bit nervous about because I've heard that couch shopping can be a real spot of tension between couples. Luckily, we were able to pass that test with flying colors. We were pretty much on the same page and neither of us had to convince the other about which one we would ultimately get. It's a futon, so that we'll have a bed option for guests. Once it's delivered and placed in the basement this Friday, the "basement project," and thus, the house, will be complete. I'm looking forward to finally crossing "finish basement" off my to-do list. (Next to-do: PAY for basement ...).
It feels so good to finally have all my boxes unpacked, to have everything in its proper place, to fully live here. It gives me such satisfaction that I find myself feeling reluctation to ever make any changes to it. Not to move to a bigger house, not to add on, not to make room for a child. Just to hunker down and enjoy this.
I've often felt this way shortly after settling into a new place. I know it's because it's so much work that once it's done I abhor the thought of doing it all again. But, as I've heard happens with childbirth, over time you forget how overwhelming it was, when the urgency of change pushes harder than the desire to stay put. But there's snow outside, a Christmas tree twinkling and a dog curled up in the living room, a cat on the window ledge and a life and home built with the love of my life. Why wouldn't I want to stay put?