First of all, totally unrelated to the topic of this post but as a follow-up to my last one, guess who successfully mowed all two acres of her lawn today without cutting off a toe? Yes. Yes, I did. And I am so sorry that the first 20 minutes of that adventure wasn’t captured on camera for posterity– particularly the part where I came thisclose to running the mower through the closed garage door.
It has been a long time since I laughed that hard at my own ineptitude, but I will say this… mowing the lawn may actually be the one household chore that I love to do, and it was a nice way to decompress after what ended up being a particularly crazy couple of days.
You may have gotten the impression over the last couple of weeks that I wasn’t completely moved out of the Farm House rental. My lease is actually up at the end of May, and while the landlord agreed to let me out of the contract early if they found another renter, up until Friday it looked like I would still be on the hook for another month of rent and maintaining the grounds and utilities at two properties. (Which is not stressful or financially taxing at all, right?)
Then Friday at 9:30 AM I found three frantic messages on my voice mail. Apparently they found a renter who had signed a lease and wanted to move in rightthissecond, which, on one hand, Yes! On the other hand, I still had about four carloads of junk in that house. You know, all that big awkward stuff that was both difficult to move and that I had nowhere to store at Liberty.
That, for the record, is one mini-fridge, one microwave, one full-sized Christmas tree (boxed), one bar stool, one dining room chair, one ironing board, and four boxes of miscellaneous junk.
Now 330 days out of the year I go to work in some variation of jeans-and-a-tshirt, which would be totally fine if I had to unexpectedly take an afternoon off work to move large and unwieldy objects by myself, but oh no, not Friday. On Friday I was wearing a dress. So, add to the list of things I never thought I would do, but did: “load minifridge into back of SUV wearing cute red flats and making very unladylike grunting noises.” Check.
It took four loads and eight hours, but by the end of the day Friday I was able to close the door on this house for good.
It was never “home”, but I’m grateful for this little place because if I hadn’t taken a leap of faith and moved here five months ago, I never would have found The Liberty House. (Okay, that thing with the sink I would rather forget about, but everything else I’m grateful for.)
I also figured out what the World’s Largest Mudroom is good for…
Yup. That’s only three carloads of stuff because the fourth one is still in my car. And, you know, usually I’m all about breaking out the fancy camera out so that you can have a really sharp image of all of the crap I’ve managed to accumulated over the last decade (and have moved twice in the last six months) but I have a sneaking suspicion that the camera is located at the bottom of that pile of junk right now so the iPhone pics will have to suffice.
Now the ironic thing is that it really only took eight hours to move all of this because I had a half hour drive between houses each time I took a load, and when I mentioned this to my Grandpa over what has become our weekly Sunday breakfast, he looked at me quizzically and said, “Honey, why didn’t you use the trailer?”
Oh, right. Look what I forgot was conveniently sitting in my barn:
So clearly I’ve moved beyond a point of rational problem solving in my life these days, because that would have been a hell of a lot easier.
So, there is just one thing on my to-do list for the house this week: Regain control of my sanity and the mudroom. And the kitchen. And the front entry. Okay, so like four things, actually. One day I’ll be able to get back to building stuff and making big messes, but apparently this is too much chaos, even for me.