It’s not even over yet, and already I want my house back.
It’s in disarray. Things are out of place. And there’s a feeling of anticipation in the air, the feeling that it’s only going to get worse.
On Friday, the HVAC contractor came to the house and measured and looked around and decided where the hole in the ceiling for the new heat pump would go.
They are coming back today to take out the old pump and install the new. At least we hope they’re going to complete the process today.
This new heat pump is larger than the one we have now. Plus, Larry wants to install those attic steps. So the new, larger hole has to be in a different part of the ceiling: right where we have a bookcase full of books and my keyboard.
OK. I can deal with that, I thought.
It’s a heavy bookcase, made heavier with more books than the bookcase should hold. We’d have to pack up the books before we could move the bookcase.
|This isn't the usual home for the keyboard.|
On Saturday, Larry was going to cut the hole in the ceiling, do the prep work for putting in the attic steps, and get me to help him install the steps.
He had been working for a while when I went into the den. The keyboard was gone. It was now in the futon room/my office. On the floor in the den, there were pieces of plaster and plaster dust all over the large dust cloth covering half the room. Tools lay everywhere.
I didn’t say anything. I just walked out of the room. And took some deep breaths.
I don’t do well with chaos or even semi-chaos. I like things to be somewhat orderly. But I told myself I’d be able to get through a few days of things being upside down.
|Chase Bird feels left out.|
Poor Chase Bird was not very happy either. We needed to keep him out of the den while dust was flying and dangerous tools were lying about. So we closed the French door between the futon room and the living room, keeping him safe (or trapped, in his mind, I believe) in the other part of the house.
The measurements provided by the contractor didn’t seem to line up with where Larry thought the joists were. So he reluctantly decided to wait until Monday, when the contractor returned, to finish the hole. He taped up what he had done with duct tape.
|It looks like we're in the midst of moving.|
I packed books. And packed. And packed. Larry put the boxes on a hand truck and moved them to the foyer in the front of the house. Thirteen boxes of books. And that’s from only one of four bookcases/shelves in the house. Plus, I have many books packed up in boxes already.
We carefully folded up the dust cloth so Larry could take it outside while I picked up pieces of plaster.
|My grandfather built this bookcase. My father refurbished it when he and my mother gave it to me.|
Then we allowed Chase Bird to come back in the room. He jumped up on the now-empty bookcase. I wonder if he thinks it’s now a bunk bed for cats?
To me, the empty bookcase looks sad. It’s waiting for the books to come back.
I’m waiting to get my house back.
Do you operate well in semi-chaos? How do you cope when you have to live in the midst of a work-in-progress?
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