It’s like Christmas!

Rather suddenly, all the boxes are gone from our living room; our furniture is in place, books packed away six months are on shelves, and our house has an appealing lived-in look. Today I found my Fiesta spoon rest, and my Bible cases, one of which contained the notes of my checkbook math demonstrating that Adam was still alive on earth into the lifetime of Noah’s father, Lamech, and that Noah lived into Abraham’s 50s. I unpacked my deerskin drum and displayed it on the dictionary shelf. Only pictures, and a few other gratuitous things one moves from home to home wondering why, remain in boxes in our office closets. What a joy it was, slashing open these boxes, revisiting our books, and having them in our sight and available to our touch again.

This revolutionary climax in our transition phase was made possible by my husband installing baseboard molding in the living room yesterday so the bookshelves could be placed against the walls, and the good eye of our friend Brenda, who came over to help us determine placement for the furniture. Brenda and her husband have issues with their own home similar to ours: a small space, fairly massive pieces of furniture, and a preference for a lot of open space. They have such a good sense of how to use their space and still preserve liberal traffic patterns that I asked Brenda to help us with ours. And so she did, with good cheer and fresh from her of new record-breaking workout. Our furniture is in place, we have room to move around with access to everything, and I even got to keep my coffee table.

I’m still unsure what to do with all the pictures. I haven’t missed them at all, but now, with things in place, I think I will at least need Jane’s cat needlepoints, and possibly my Chinese watercolor up. The old Bozeman Sweet Pea Festival poster in its copper frame is a weak maybe. The ancestral photo gallery is close to out of the question and will likely live in a box in the closet for a while. Perhaps indefinitely. As for the rest, a box in the shop might be a good home for an indeterminate while.

As of last Wednesday, I have enjoyed finished kitchen counters of porcelain tile, completely grouted. My husband has been putting in six-day weeks for most of the past three months on a complete overhaul of our house. Lots of trim molding remains to be put in place around baseboards, windows, and ceilings; two bathrooms remain to be gutted and new fixtures installed; a new roof awaits a warm spell, the shop needs to be wired, and we might still replace the bedroom Pergo floor so the new bamboo floor in the closet doesn’t outclass it. But our livability index has gone from happily endurable to joyfully near luxurious. We are so grateful for all of God’s kind provisions in seeing us through all of this, always with the good help and encouragement of our old and new friends.

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