After six weeks, you'd think we'd be wholly moved-in to our new place. Well, we're not. But we're getting close. Again this past weekend, we focused on putting the house in order at the expense of all else.

(If it seems lately that all I ever write about is the house, that's because the house dominates our lives. From the moment we get home 'til the moment we go to bed, we're working on the house.)

On Friday afternoon and Saturday morning, we touched up paint, we re-attached moulding, and we tore up the paper and plastic that protected our floors for the past three weeks. Suddenly, the house almost seemed livable.

Hanging the moulding was a tricky process, one that prompted heated words and tears on the first night we tried it (last Wednesday). We gave up, and went to bed dejected, once again afraid the house would never be finished.

However, one of Kris' co-workers loaned us an air compressor and a nail gun (thanks, Darrell!); my brother, Tony, loaned us a miter saw. With these two tools in hand — and with my new moulding-hanging system — the trim went up quickly. (Kris, quoting Martha, keeps telling me that "the right tool makes all the difference". She's right!)

The moulding doesn't fit exactly as it used to. The sheetrock is slightly thicker than the previous wallboards, causing things to be misaligned. Also, we mismeasured the location of the picture rail in the study, so that we had to chop it into many smaller pieces in order for it to fit. (As a bonus, though, I have several feet of picture rail left over.)

Not only is the moulding too long for the spaces into which it's being put, it also no longer squeezes into the gaps and corners it once filled. Some pieces set back tighter to the wall; others bulge out, sticking out a few millimeters beyond the window or door they're meant to trim. There are gaps between the moulding and the window frames. Basically, I've got a project for the winter: go through and fill the gaps with caulk (or spackle), sand down the chips and cracks, and then repaint. For now, though, we're happy.

With the moulding hung, the real fun could begin. On Saturday and Sunday, we moved furniture into the dining room, parlor, and den. We made trips to furniture stores, to hardware stores, to the awesome Rejuvenation Inc. Andrew dropped by to help me move some of the heavier pieces from here to there. I lugged books down from the guest room to the parlor and the den.

It was as if a vast settling were occurring, and all the accumulated flotch was oozing into the appropriate spots.

By Sunday evening, the house was beginning to feel like a home.

On this day at foldedspace.org

2005 — Alternate Reality   What would it be like to be young and hip and witty and beautiful? What would I do? Who would I be? Where would I live? Couldn't it be possible I could live two parallel lives at once, both wonderful, but both completely different?