Our “for now house”

On Saturday, JG and I stopped by our neighbors’ Phillies-centric open house, and one of the people we met there asked how long we’d lived next door. I paused before I answered, startled, “Almost three years, now.”

Yes, three years ago today, our friends arrived at our apartment, where we waited with juice and donuts. I had arranged all of our things according to where they could be packed (the piles were marked, “heavy,” “okay anywhere,” and “fragile”), and each red Staples box was labeled with contents and future destination. We loaded up the various vehicles and carted everything across the Pennsylvania border and to the new house. Our one-bedroom place barely needed any furniture, and the job was done in less than three hours. JG’s parents graciously provided lunch for everyone, and we plopped in front of our little 12-inch television, rabbit ears and all, to watch the Penn State game.

I went back to the apartment with one girlfriend to gather up the last few items while JG let our capable friends loose in the house with the vague directive, “Unpacked is better than not!” Uh, what? Things ended up hither and yon, so by dinnertime, we were basically “unpacked,” although not exactly organized, much to my chagrin. Regardless, one of our friends painstakingly organized all of the books, and my mother-in-law washed the newspaper-wrapped dishes. I had little reason to complain. That night, we all went to a local pumpkin-carving contest, and I had a little thrill at being a real local.

I guess we’ve accomplished a bit in our three years. JG painted six rooms one summer, we bought a couch and a guest bed, we spent a Saturday organized the laundry room, JG installed an invisible fence, we introduced a dog without destroying our major pieces, we inherited a dining room set from my in-laws, and we bought matching bedroom furniture. To the casual onlooker, our house looks pretty composed and intentional.

But, oh, I can’t help but focus on the vertical blinds on every window and uncomfortably thin carpet in our bedroom. The house is this ever-demanding mistress of repairs, upgrades, and tweaks. I might enjoy it if I were halfway decent at design, but I’m not, and there is never enough money.

Despite that, when I have my fair share of perspective, I love our house. I love our green room, the kitchen island we found for $15 at a yard sale, and the picture ledges that are miraculously level. There were times of heartache, like when my lovely big clock fell off the wall and shattered, or when a pipe burst under the sink on a Sunday, but figuring out how to handle our little homestead has been an adventure.

When JG and I bought this house, we knew it wouldn’t be what we call our “forever house.” But it’s okay if our “for now house” ends up lasting us a long time.