Life is funny. Sometimes it seems like things are moving along at the speed of light, and at the same time, other things are barely moving along at all. Welcome to buying a house and trying to move, with a full-time job, during a pandemic and racially-charged, nationwide protests (which I 4,000% support). What a time, right?
This past weekend, we officially moved from the old place to the new place. Make no mistake, I still have a ton of work to do at the old place to get it cleaned up, and I still have a few things there that need to get moved, but we slept at the new place on Saturday and tonight I cooked some food in the new place's kitchen (been living on Imo's since Saturday, which isn't the worst thing ever), so it's official: we're here.
Unfortunately, there are only so many hours in the day and getting moved out of the old place meant I really didn't get to put much time into the new place over the past few weeks. Moving all the wood shop tools, moving some of the reclaimed lumber I've been hoarding, moving furniture...what a fiasco, 1 pickup truck load at a time. And then, moving out of one place is just the tip of the iceberg; all the stuff then has to get set up - or in my case, about 10% set up - in the new house. Getting the internet hooked up, trying to find specific items transported in any of 42 identical giant plastic containers, going to stores to stock up on stuff for the new place...it all takes a silly amount of time.
And then there are the dogs.
Although Freckles follows Roscoe everywhere and does everything he does, they are totally different dogs. The best way to explain it is like this: if you were a cowboy (or cowgirl) and had a herd of cattle to drive across the Rockies, Roscoe is the dog you want helping with the effort. He's not particularly fast anymore but he moves at a nice steady clip. He always wants to walk in front and lead, and no matter how far off the trail he gets, he always finds his way back, usually better than I do. He is ultra protective of his people and animals, requires zero leashes, is startled by nothing, and his once youthful exuberance has given way to the wisdom that comes with having been around for quite a while. "Dependable" is probably the best way to describe Roscoe; he's the dog that you'd want helping move the cattle.
Freckles, on the other hand, would amaze the cattle with her athletic abilities, do some puppy stuff to entertain everybody, and then legit try to eat every last member of the herd.
Roscoe has handled the move like an old dog. At almost 11.5 years old, he's pretty content to lay around on the couch, or the floor, or pretty much anywhere. I can leave him alone and pack things, or unpack things, or work in the new place's yard, or whatever, and he's fine doing his own thing. He's been involved in several moves before, he knows the drill.
Freckles, at not quite 9 months old, has more energy than Roscoe and I combined, and pretty much exists within about 3 inches of my feet, anywhere and everywhere my feet happen to be. She slows me down a bit, either because I'm tripping over her or she's letting me know that if I don't play with her, she's going to destroy a blanket or a pillow the next chance she gets. But I know that one day - hopefully not anytime soon - she's going to outgrow the puppy stage, and then she'll get to a point where she's seen and done so many things that not too much excites her anymore, and ultimately she'll be just like Roscoe is now, old(ish) and slow(ish) and not always wanting or needing to be by my side anymore. So, I've been pretty good about taking a break from unpacking stuff or continuing the yard cleanup effort or getting generally prep'd for the real chaos - the rehab - that's about to unfold to play with Freckles and do my best to keep her entertained.
I have about another 10 days of chaotic moving-related stuff to deal with, and then...it's on. Or however much "it's on" my wallet will allow for at the moment. The yard will always be a work in progress, but with a little grass starting to grow I think I can set that project aside for the time being and focus on big project #1, gutting the basement. It's about 1,300 sq. ft. of "finished" space, which isn't a huge thing to tackle, but the logistics of getting all of it out of the house and into a dumpster are pretty terrible. As not exciting as a basement demo might be, given the funk and mountains of mouse excrement down there, now that we're living here full-time...it sort of needs to happen ASAP. Plus, opening up the basement will let me know the condition and layout of the building's MEP systems, which may help guide decisions that need to be made about how to go about rehabbing the main floor.
After that, I'm going to buy enough scaffolding to erect about a 20' tower and get to work on the outside of the house. Before it gets cold, which will get here faster than I want it to, I'd like to repoint as much of the parapet as I can, and redo as many of the windows as I can, but those are projects we can talk about down the road.
Until then...I need to finish moving, and finish making the house livable/tolerable, and probably take a couple half days off to go swimming.
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