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Last week I moved me and Nehi 1,951 miles across the country, into a house I bought unseen other than through the Interwebz.

It surprised no one that my boxes were color-coded and marked with what the contents were and what room they belonged in or that there were multiple coordinating color-coded lists for each step of the move. Most people were speechless if not down-right horrified that I would buy a house unseen. I tried to explain that it was actually pretty easy. I know exactly what my and Nehi's daily life requires- a quiet neighborhood where it is safe to walk. A fenced yard for her. A bedroom. An office. Light. Green. Our house has all these things. So I knew it would fit us just fine. It is a 1956 brick bungalow in a neighborhood full of them. I heard a lot in the last month that it was a "starter house" and I shouldn't change anything drastically because I'd have an issue reselling it. I'm listening to any of that because it's my home now, and I'm going to make it what I want, and honestly, I don't plan on going anywhere. Someone else told me I could easily add another bathroom. Why? I only need the one. It's a Goldilocks's house for us.

I have a friend who delights in turning up the corners of rugs in my house just to watch me leap to turn it back down. Despite my tendencies, I'm pretty chill with a lot of house things. Given the age, this house will keep me busy with honey-do chores for a while, which I like, but honestly, the only thing that needed immediate attention was the kitchen.

Other than feeling a bit claustrophobic, it's also dated, and laid out really badly. So I made an appointment to get an estimate to pull down the cabinets and replace with farm shelves and cut off the end of the left hand side cabinet/counter to put the fridge there. The rest was cosmetic, paint the lower cabinets I was keeping. Once everything is pulled down, paint the upper wall. I decided too to replace the hardware, something farmhouse-y but not this...

I went with this, a darker brass that I think complemented the updated farmhouse look I want it to have.

Despite how organized, anxious, and color-coded fussy I am with so many things (read: almost everything) it's always interesting to me how NOT so I am with house stuff. In the last week I've painted the living room, office, bedroom, and lower kitchen. I have the bathroom left to do, and honestly I've been putting it off for days because I hate painting. The bottom molding has color splashed on it in the living room and office because honestly until day two I forgot the tip of using a piece of cardboard as a runner guard. The ceiling has some spots too. Meh. IF I get the energy those are a fall-winter weekend fix. If I don't I honestly don't care.
I dinged the guest room floor putting together the spare bed yesterday. Meh.
I got blue paint on the deck from redoing the cabinets and drawers. Meh again.
The two kitchen cabinets I redid hang a bit off AND the handles are not level.

I am not a careless person, or an uncaring one, but my day to day life, my home environment, it's as though it's the one time and place where the atmosphere to me is more important than the exactness. I'm focused on how happy and open the kitchen looks not the uneven handles. I'm enjoying the calm grey-blue of my bedroom. The light on the sandstone walls in the living room. The soft rug.

Maybe part of this is too because this is all mine, it's my house, and I can do whatever I want. The only other house I ever owned I bought for Mom, painted for Mom, designed for Mom. I did not like it, I did not like the space or neighborhood, although I tried to make the best of it. This place is just mine and Nehi's. It's five minutes to the store. I can walk to my doctor's and it's ten minutes from work.

I have over a month til I report to my new job, and the POD comes Monday with movers unloading Tuesday. I've gotten done everything I needed and wanted to before the furniture and boxes are here (except the damn bathroom).
Other than painting, I've rigged a fix for the whole in the fence and put together furniture. I've also replaced my shower head.

Unsurprisingly the last week I've thought a lot about tools, which was I started to write this blog about. I don't have a lot of tools, and over the years I've had to replace some. The first day I moved into my rental in Albuquerque, someone stole my Dewalt drill right out of my truck! I went immediately to replace it. Over the years I've learned that there are some essential tools I can do just about everything with.

•  A drill, battery powered, because what you lack in power (which you rarely need in house stuff) you will more than love for the mobility.
• Drill bits. I'm pretty sure these are not in the correct spot. And I break pilot bits like I'm gonna win an award. But they're super handy.

My bag is a holdover from when I was a master electrician and worked freelance in Atlanta, having to lug it around on MARTA to jobs (that sucked by the way) but made for a good pillow for in between call naps. The bag holds:

•  A staple gun
• Screwdrivers of various sizes with Philip's heads marked with comic tape.
• Gloves
• Painter's tape
• wire cutters
• Vise grips
• Hammer
• zip ties
• Molecular tape (one of the coolest things ever invented)
• The painting sheet is usually in there
• A jar of screws
• A tupperware of sandpaper and misc. hardware
• A tupperware of drill accessories
• A C-wrench with tie lie on it
• A measuring tape
• A chalk line

 
I also have a jigsaw drill. A hatchet. A long extension cord. Sharpies. And with these supplies I can do most things. The furniture I put together this week had the graphic "lift with a buddy" on it. In my head, I kept hearing "Well what if there IS no buddy? There wasn't one today..." in Bill Murray's voice.

Everything is harder when you're on your own. Bathroom breaks were non-existent on the drive out because Nehi couldn't be left in a hot car. I ate fast food take out because Nehi couldn't be left in a hot car. I carried furniture boxes into the house on my own, and fending off Nehi being helpful trying to see, boxes that clearly said "requires two people to lift."

There was no one to help clean the new house, run out for groceries while I stayed home with Nehi, hold the cabinets while I screwed in new hinges. That's okay, I've gotten good and balancing and holding weight with my feet.

I am proud of the work I've done. I'm proud that I've done it without any help. I was telling my godmother the other day about all the moving stuff and she said "you keep saying 'we,' did so-and-so come up to help you?" And I laughed, and laughed, because of course not, and because when I say we I mean me and Nehi.

So that's been our last week. I'll be happy when the furniture gets here, as 43 is too old to sleep on hardwood floors. I have a special book to put all my house "to do" stuff in. I'm enjoying the green. I'm glad I have a month still to get all settled before starting my new job, and glad this will feel like home when I do.

I'm really excited about this move, this new start. And Nehi is glad I finally came through on my promise the last six years to get her a yard with grass.
She's defending it daily.