Because she finally found a place to settle into that was just right.
After trying out a condo in Silicon Valley (too crowded), a renovated farmhouse in Teton Valley (too remote from any family), and a suburban home in Comox (too, um, suburban), she and her best friend, Rick, finally stumbled upon a humble beach house in a delightful oceanside community south of town, walked directly to the picture window overlooking a world-famous oyster farm, and sighed, “It’s Perfect.”
Oh sure… maybe it had some funky pink carpeting, higgledy-piggledy sized baseboards throughout, a shot septic system, leaking roofs, 40-year old doors, windows, kitchen cabinets and fixtures, an ancient hot-water heater, squishy basement flooring, poly-B plumbing, and Icky, the resident “sea kitty” in the attic, but all that was SO behind your field of vision when you looked out the windows!
We’ll take it, thank you.
It turns out that, despite the babbling-inducing vistas, “mid-70’s papier-mâché dachshund beach house funky” wasn’t going to be a perfect match for the rickandkathy chi.
So we did what we, apparently, always do.
It was actually nice to be able to sit down now and again, even if it was to drive the midgy shovel-loader thingy. I sat on the driveway with a chilled adult beverage and cheered him on.
By this time, what with the demolition of his internal catwalks, the noise, Dave the Pest Guy, Rob the Tree Service Guy, and a few strategically placed industrial-strength rat bait traps, we were seriously disturbing the sea kitty, Icky.
Buh-bye, Mr. Icky Kitty…
Say, does this paint can make me look phat?
See the baseboard that wraps itself around every curve of every stair? Yup… it yells at me every time I go up and down those steps.
“Halloo!,” it hollers. “Remember me? You promised… You said!”
Shaddup, stairs. I’m busy.
Remember the PM dachshund from upstream here? In the same way, the image above pretty much sums up how much attention and energy we had leftover for organizing that lil’ shindig.
Needless to say, unpacking and sorting through the boxes and the “where does this go?” game on this end has been… interesting.
We’re in, the boxes are finally gone, and we manage to find the odd hour here and there to just sit and enjoy what drew us here in the first place.
Yes, in part it’s the whole “stay calm on the surface and paddle like hell below” thing, but mostly it’s just because they look so at home on the water.