Well, I’m in the house and completely done with the apartment. I have just 3 boxes to lug down to the basement, and then I’m more or less moved in. The ‘more’ means I have lawnmower and if we’d only get some grass-growing rain, I’d use it. I also have a half-barrel planted with geraniums and three other kinds of plants I can’t name (gardener buddy picked them out), and I have three tomato plants in the garden. The ‘less’ refers to the facts that the vacuum is still in the back of the car, along with some other junk, and that the books and yarn in the basement room are still in piles and boxes.
Having lived here for a week, though, I know two things that are going to be changed whenever time and $$ present themselves. First, I need a new toilet. The present one works fine, but it is loooow — mid-calf height — and not much fun to get up from. Using the toilet shouldn’t *always* be a grunt-inducing experience! Second, I need a bathtub/shower insert. As it is, the tub was never plumbed for a shower and there’s a shower stall in the basement. That trip downstairs has already gotten old.
The animals have adjusted well. Ricky and I have discovered the less doggy-inhabited walks around the neighborhood for our morning walks,* and most evenings we drive to one of the parks on the lake. Yesterday I took him down to one of the tiny beaches and he chased the waves that dared to dampen his precious toes, only realizing afterward that the chasing caused greater toe wetness. Silly dog.
Pics after I locate the camera. You’d think it would be in one of those last three boxes, but the strange physics of moving may preclude that…..
*for some reason, he loves crapping on the lawn at the Lutheran church on the corner.