A First For Us

We're just about to climb into the minivan and drive south(ish) for 2200 miles. Right now we don't even own a computer in Texas, and everything we do own is in a big storage unit, waiting to be delivered and unloaded, so I'm thinking, after this post, I'll be out of the loop for awhile.

This building a home and moving into a brand spanking new house is a first time experience for us. When you're in your sixties you don't get to say that very often. There are a few things I could still say that about, like hang gliding or bungee jumping or hiking Glacier park, none of which I plan to do, but for the most part I'm not going to do anything that I haven't already done at least once.

This is what our lot looked like back in summer, 2016. 

The first time we went to look over the location of our future home, it was 35+ acres of field, with wild sunflowers blooming. I took home armfuls several times, to have a marker on my kitchen sink, that eventually we'd be living there.

Seeing this photo, I tried to imagine where everything was; a challenge for someone spatially challenged. I could see the front door, the garage and where the plumbing went, which helped figure out where my soaker tub and kitchen sink were.

Within days it looked like this, and I could tell where more rooms were. 

For awhile the house was green. It looked like a little house on the prairie to me. 

 We added a covered patio to the back postage-stamp sized yard, because we've always, always, always spent mornings and evenings outdoors, sipping coffee or wine. 

Inside the front door, looking out. That's not the real front door, but the construction one. At this point I couldn't actually remember what the real door looked like anyway. We'd picked it out over a year before.

They'd also gotten a good amount of our bricking and stone work done. I think the hardest thing to pick out of everything was the brick. Trying to visualize what an entire house would look like from one 12 x 12 board was beyond me. 

We've lived in houses that were almost one hundred years old, several that were only a few years old, and everything in between. But we've never looked at a field, and chosen to put a house on it. Everyone warned us that the building process was awful, but we didn't find it too bad. This house is semi-custom, with limited choices and that suited us well. I don't need endless possibilities for faucets or cabinet hardware - a handful is plenty for me. More than anything, we had a hard time remembering what we'd chosen. Walking in at closing will be a bit like Christmas morning - surprise, surprise!

Right now I'm realizing the brand spanking newness of it all. Nobody has ever bathed in my soaker tub. or showered in our master bath. Nobody has cooked on the stove, or run the dishwasher. Ever. Lit the fireplace, baked a cake in the oven, filled the pantry, sipped coffee or wine on the patio, watched TV in the living room, scrubbed the toilets (I'd say flushed but then I'd have to think about all the workmen who likely used those bathrooms while they were building the house so we won't go there). No one has celebrated a birthday or Christmas or cooked a turkey with dressing, and watched Macy's parade and celebrated Thanksgiving, or made breakfast or grown flowers on the front porch. Nobody has rung the doorbell and stood waiting for the door to open and be let inside. Nobody has sat at the desk and paid bills or filed income taxes or sent sympathy or anniversary cards.

Nobody has lived in this brand new little house. But the three of us are about to - me, Cub Sweetheart and Miss Lily. We're about to embark on a brand new adventure, a brand new town, with brand new people, and a brand new church and brand new friends. Hopefully we'll laugh more than we'll cry, and if we do cry, hopefully most of those tears will be happy ones. Right now there's no tape stuck to the ceiling or the dining room light fixture from hanging streamers, but we'll fix that. There have never been stockings hanging from the fireplace, and no flag has been put out on national holidays. We'll have family and friends come to visit, and we'll pull out of our garage and drive away to see others - for the day or for awhile.

And eventually, at some point, we'll pull into that garage, turn off the car, and walk in the door and it'll hit us that it finally feels like home.

It's almost ready! Shutters, address on the front, and us to show up. 

But for now we need to order furniture and refrigerators and replace the Keurig I was dumb and gave away. I'll take photos along the way, and post all about our new place as soon as we come up for air. Feel free to pray for our safety - we've got a few mountain passes to cover and anyone who's lived north of Texas knows snow storms can still sneak up on you this time of year.