Moving in, moving out

We moved in!! And then we moved out again.
Long story short: last Sunday, we moved into the farmhouse; today, we moved back into my parents’ house for a few more days. Long story long: at 4:00 last Sunday afternoon we looked at each other and said, “WE’RE DOING IT TODAY,” spent the next hour and a half piling our stuff into random bags as my parents walked around going, “You know you don’t have to leave right now,” but by that point our toothbrushes and clothes were buried somewhere in the backseat of my car and we were like, “Actually now we’re too far into this to quit.” We crash-landed in Fruitdale around 7 and had a romantic first dinner in the new house… 
Classy. Then we immediately turned back around and drove the half hour back to Spearfish, because we realized we didn’t have the right size shower rod OR hooks for the shower curtain, and the actual closest town (Belle Fourche, 10 minutes away) was all closed up for the night (at 7:45) and literally our only option was the Spearfish Walmart. YAY FOR LIVING IN THE BOONIES. (I was like, “I already regret this.” My darling husband, ever the optimist, was like, “It’ll get better.”) (That’s why I married him.)
It did get better. The first couple of days were rough- our only functional bathroom has a shower the size of a standard phone booth, and the associated sink is the utility sink in the laundry room; we couldn’t find the tea kettle to make coffee (we’ve simplified to a pour-over as our go-to daily coffee brewing method); and our clothes hung out in boxes, increasingly strewn all over the room, for most of the week. 

 But we eventually found the kettle; acquired a full-size fridge, washer, and dryer; and got used to the extra half-hour of commute (read: downloaded lots of Ted Talk podcasts). And it really started to feel like home.

We also got SOME things done…mostly unpacking boxes and making it feel a little more like home, but also painting and installing the new front door, taking a bunch of junk to the dump (all credit to my mom and dad), ripping out the sink in the larger bathroom, and making serious progress on finishing its replacement. 

Then came today. My biggest (and SLOWEST) project of the week has been redoing the laundry room. I took down all the shelves, scraped the popcorn off the ceiling (IMPORTANT UPDATE: there is no more popcorn in that house!!!!!!! HOORAY!!!!), and started washing the walls to prep for painting. So this evening, as I’m in the (TEDIOUS) process of washing the walls, D was like, “Here, let me take of those old washer hoses, we need to replace them anyway so I’ll just get them out of your way.” Tries to take off hose. Won’t come off. Gets wrench. And BAM off comes the ENTIRE FAUCET thing. WATER GUSHING EVERYWHERE. (Sorry for the caps. I’m just trying to sufficiently emphasize the SUDDEN CHAOS.) We’re both yelling. He recovers faster and shuts off the main water supply. It stops. 

(No pictures. That would have been a truly sweet action shot, but I was a little preoccupied.)

After we both let out a few choice words about the situation, we do what any self-respecting adult would do in our situation and call my father. I won’t bore you with the details (that I can’t fully explain), but essentially no more water is coming into the house while that faucet thing remains broken. He notifies us that we are welcome to come back and stay at their house. We (dolefully) accept.

So…here we are again! Back where we were almost exactly a week ago. The house is looking MUCH better, I promise…this week we’ll finish the laundry room and hopefully get all the tile, which we have finally picked out. I’ll also take some pictures of the things we have actually accomplished. And VERY hopefully, we’ll move BACK in this week. Once we have water back. Wish us luck.


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