To me, the new house looks the way it did one month ago. Basically, it's completely painted, the kitchen cabinets are installed, and there is one fully functioning and completed bathroom (in which I even hung a shower curtain this week). Hence, there are no pictures in this update. Also, my camera is all packed away in preparation for The Big Move of 2011, so there's that. Supposedly, my kitchen appliances will be delivered tomorrow. They've been rescheduled twice already, so I have little confidence in them actually making an appearance. This also means that I've had to reschedule the countertop measure twice. If I say much more about these delays, I might explode. I want my freaking refrigerator already.
When I'm at the New House ("working"), I keep randomly relocating piles of tools from the living room to a box in our new back hallway. Thus, if you are missing a screw driver, paint brush, drill bit or a tape measure, it is probably in that box. The tools keep getting piled back in the living room, though, because we have fifty million little odds and ends to complete and they all require some of those tools. My OCDish tendencies then require that they get put away. My visits to New House are usually an odd dance...I focus on the task at hand for a little while, and then get distracted by the need to move all the tools into the box. It's therapeutic, the useless cleaning up. Also, the spouse bought me a Dyson, so it's become fun to randomly vacuum things. (Unsolicited Dyson opinion...it's pretty awesome, however the cord is much shorter than I'm used to.)
The doggies have visited the place several times and have had the expected anxiety attacks...panting, whining, frantic sniffing, drooling. They are fine in the gigantic yard. Bones, my most senior dog, has actually participated in running and playing. Typically, he's a moper and a non player. I'm encouraged by the playing and hold onto hope that the move will be good for him. He hates the bamboo floors though, thanks to his reconstructed knee. This necessitated a visit to Ikea (aka ninth circle of hell) on a Sunday afternoon (seriously, don't do this, ever) to acquire various throw rugs. Bones will now be able to Frogger his way through the house. Squirt is happy so long as she has a fresh tennis ball to carry around.
Things I have learned in this renovatory process are many and varied. For instance, our spray foam guy made a mess of epic proportions on our vinyl window frames (even though he covered them in plastic). After much testing of various chemicals (and worrying that the staff of Home Depot would think I was making a bomb at home), it was Goof Off Professional Strength and my elbow grease that got the remnants of the spray foam insulation off. CPM learned that Clorox Wipes should NEVER be flushed down the toilet. (This is why I do all of the house cleaning.) Oh, and if you are our stucco guy (who hails from Ireland), "third" is pronounced "turd," which makes for all sorts of fun when Colin and I discuss how we are paying him his second "turd" for the work he has completed to date.
Thus, the move is scheduled, the Uhaul reserved. I've shifted some stuff up there, and I have more ready to go in small trips. The TV/Internet/phone got installed last weekend (possibly the most painless Comcast install ever) and it works. That's all for now.