Well, at least that's the way it feels today.
Too much left to pack. Too much left to clean. Too much left to build/finish/paint.
I spent HOURS just vacuuming the first floor log walls and the rest of the dining room and kitchen ceilings and cleaning windows of accumulated grime and adhesive from those manufacturer stickers that we just never took off before.
But I am digging those double-hung windows!
I might actually clean those windows again within the coming decade.
Bob and his father built a temporary railing on the balcony. Eventually it will be made of log and bent twig, but for now, it'll keep me from falling off the edge. Temporary, but sturdy.
But there's still so much left to do:
- clean out the arctic entry
- prime and paint the arctic entry
- select, purchase and install flooring in the arctic entry
- install hooks for coats and hats and bins for gloves and tuques
- move all the construction materials to the basement or to the shop
- clean the upstairs -- floors, walls, ceilings
- prime and paint the master bedroom walls
- install the board ceiling in the master bedroom
- let's not even talk about the master bathroom
- install bedroom and bathroom doors on the first floor
- put several coats of poly on the bedroom and bathroom doors
- stair treads and risers
- hearth and stone facing on the chimney
- exterior door face casings and filling in that empty spot over those doors
- laundry room wall and door
I'm not even listing things like exterior window casings, baseboard, closet doors, laundry chute doors, the whole closet in the master bedroom.... okay, well, I guess I did list them. But there's more! I'm just getting too depressed thinking of them all.
It doesn't all have to be done before we move our schtuff out of the house in town and out to The Lake and start sleeping in logness and telling the post office to deliver our bills out there.... but a good bit of it does. And now that I can see the move on the horizon, I feel impatient.
There's the real problem: I am impatient. I want to live in my hand-crafted, lovely, perfect, beautiful log home NOW and I don't want to have to vacuum more sawdust to do it. What an ungrateful whiner I am. But, there you have it. Warts and all.
It's a work in progress, but I suppose so am I. And if this house doesn't kill me, I sure will love living there. *grumble* You know: in three more years.