We are in, and so far we have all survived, although Marrakesh spent much of the night yowling mournfully. (He is currently quietly curled up right next to me.)
We are still just shy of technically legal — Dusty has to convert the completed building permit into a certificate of occupancy, which he will do today — but as of about 6 p.m. yesterday the driveway guys relented on their own mistake and signed off on the permit.
It turns out they were sure we were crossing the ditch that borders our property to the east. Now, when we first looked at the property with real estate agent Kiley Flint, we asked her about bringing a driveway that way, but she promptly shot that down, saying she didn’t think the HOA would allow it. That was the last time that was given any consideration, so why the county got that into its head I don’t know. And that they can’t read maps any better than that is a tad worrisome.
They tried every which way to make that Dusty’s mistake and not theirs. But Dusty had been very careful. Initially, we were going to go the the right of our western-most tree, and then we decided to go to the left of it. So Dusty went in and made that change with the county, and when the county guys pulled out their maps, why there it was, stamped “revision” and showing the route as initially planned and as it is today. No crossing of a ditch at any time.
Much of the day’s action happened right around 2. We called our movers back to help with the final load, but then we had to wait out on Riverwalk Drive while Charlie the building inspector conducted his inspection. (Pronouncement: he really liked our house.) And the Dish guy showed up to give us TV.
It’s a good thing Dusty was here, because Dish turned out to be total overload for me. I couldn’t understand a single thing the guy was asking, but Dusty directed him to the correct place in the garage; decided for me where the satellite dish was going to go (he vetoed the installer’s plan to put it on the roof and instead put it somewhere up under an eave); and settled on where the modem was going to move to (because Spectrum, which got here first, took the spot the Dish guy wanted). By midday yesterday every one of those decisions was beyond me.
Especially since I went to pay the movers and realized I had used the last check, with no idea which of one million boxes the rest of the checks were in. So I was freaking out about how I was going to get them paid, but fortunately Matthew said he could wait until I could get to my checkbook, which I’m pretty sure is at work.
(I also learned, while we were waiting on Riverwalk Drive, that he’s a jack of all trades, a licensed electrician who does plumbing, flooring, carpentry, landscaping. We’re keeping him on speed dial, and if you find yourself in need of a handyman, he’s happy to have his contact information passed along.)
It was a much busier, longer day than I expected. I think I would have still been packing anyway, but the delay in moving several large pieces of furniture from Tuesday to yesterday left Gilly cleaning our Irwin house until an hour before the scheduled walk-through for the buyers. She also had to rescue several kitchen items that we forgot. And our “metal guy” never materialized or followed up on his promise to come get our scrap metal last Saturday, so at 5:30 Lynn and I were hastily trying to fling it all into my truck to get out before 6.
As we were moving cats, around 4 p.m., we had our old/new neighbors stop by and introduce themselves, because they recognized Lynn’s yellow Jeep. On Irwin we lived a couple doors down from Geoff and Kate Oros, and his parents Ken and Jackie have been building for longer than we have in Riverwalk. They had to spend a month in their son’s basement, but they are at last in their Riverwalk house too.
So we are — finally — completely out of one place and into the other, and as of 1:30 this afternoon we will no longer be second homeowners, down to just one house. We can’t find much of anything in it, and although water dishes were left everywhere imaginable for the animals, no one would drink anything until I hooked up their fountain this morning.
Our replacement microwave went from arriving two days ago to now arriving “in a few weeks,” and it turns out I can’t complete my morning routine without one, and I can’t find my phone power cord and am running out of juice, but this morning I woke up and could look out my window to the corner of our new house (and see through another window to see through the windows in the Good Room, which actually so far seems pretty great after all.
I picked up all the protective covering from the wood floor this morning and did some sweeping (which could be a full-time job around here), and even though not much of anything is where it completely belongs, it’s easy to see how it’s all starting to fit.
There are a million projects to undertake, and as with packing, I’m flitting from project to project in a far more ineffectual manner than if I just picked one thing and went with it.
In the meantime, I blew off payroll yesterday (mostly because my brain was fried and I was very tired), and people at work are starting to forget what I look like, so I’ll put in an appearance there for almost an entire day. (I will have to leave for the closing, but they’ve come to expect this sort of behavior from me.)
So, nine months after it began, Dusty has delivered us a bouncing baby house, and it finally feels like we have come home.
It took longer this week than planned, and the county’s driveway non-issue threw him for an unexpected curve, but Dusty can be proud of his work. Although we did verify he’s not going away — I have Shelf-a-Palooza planned for him and his crew.