Ode to the Punch LIst

Well, I DID buy a house. I just can’t seem to get in it. I got back from the two week trip to Florida on Saturday and left again Monday for a work trip to Atlanta, where I am sitting in my work booth right now. I get back from this trip on Thursday night and leave again for a four-day trip to Miami on Sunday.

I did stay overnight there, with G-Man and Sweet Pea, last Saturday and Sunday. We slept on the hanging bed in the sun room. The stars were brilliant through the windows, and the morning light woke me gently. But I was surprised that I, like my two cats, didn’t feel like I had finally come “home”. I thought about it all weekend and came to several conclusions.

I don’t think I will feel at home until the house is actually completed. And I don’t want to move in until it is completed. The seven sister lights aren’t up (althought there has been a ladder in my kitchen for a few weeks...), the washer and dryer aren’t hooked up, the garage door openers aren’t installed, the front door entry set is temporary. In order to lock the house up I have to leave from one of the back doors and walk around. The rock floors still need sealing. The master bath shower needs to be reset so that I don’t get water spraying from both the hand held and the fixed spout spray at the same time. There are so many other things.

It is constantly overwhelming, and my job and my adult responsibilities didn’t disappear just so I can get this house completed and furnished.

I do have a front walk, but Mike built it as a ramp and not as a step down like I asked for. We even went out there and measured for the depth of steps. He just had a brain fart. It will make Glenn happy that the front entry will be ADA compliant. Perhaps it will make me happy one day too.

Anyway, I thought about my little house on Grace Street, and how much heart and soul I have poured into that place over the last five years to make it my home. I can’t expect to instantly feel connected and at home on Big Hill. There is virtually no furniture out there, no decoration, no fingerprint of myself, if you will.

Having said all this, on Sunday afternoon, Tracy and I went “swimming” in the hot tub, with the water just warm enough to keep us from getting chilled. I bought a cheap float and we just hung out for a couple of hours, watching the buzzards fly and enjoying a perfect June afternoon. There was a moment, when leaning on my float with my eyes closed, listening to the wind and the birds and the water and feeling the sun on my shoulders, that I felt a palpable contentment and peace.

So I will keep my hand to the grinding stone, and little by little make Big Hill a home, ready to welcome friends and family and share in many happy moments.