We moved in twelve weeks ago, but we didn’t start living in the new house until this week.
The mirror propped against the kitchen floor found its way up onto the wall. The photos stacked on the countertop in the half-bath were also hung, along with portraits of family and friends.
Green plants bloomed. Clutter receeded. At the top of the stairs, lighted shelving appeared. The green wrought-iron patio table we’ve used in the kitchen found its way out to the patio, and the much nicer wooden dining room furniture from the old house took its place.
In the office, that framed single-sheet print of all 78 Bright Idea Deck cards now hangs above the color laser printer. A bookcase is in place, with books arriving today.
Last night, seated on the couch, watching Six Feet Under, with Clyde on one side of me and Chelsea on the other, I felt at home for the first time in almost three months.
It’s a good feeling.
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