Whenever I’ve heard about living in Minnesota, I’ve been completely confused as to why anyone would choose to live in a place with such miserable winters.
I’m beginning to get it.
Turns out that miserable winters are the price to pay for summertime perfection. This is the picture I took 5 minutes ago from the back patio where I’m sitting right now.
It is never hot here. Never. Well, at least not hot to my standards. I think it hit the high 80s one day, but generally it’s between 75 and 85. The humidity is lower than what we are used to and anyone who complains about Minnesota mosquitoes has never lived in Nebraska. I leave the windows open all day long and only run the AC at night to give my allergy prone kid a break.
Now for the move in story:
Living in a hotel was nice for about 10 days and then it got really, really old. So I pretty much panicked last Thursday when, the night before we were supposed to close on our house, there was a paperwork glitch and we were told that we couldn’t close until Monday. Thankfully, the seller said we could go ahead and move in so Friday morning I met a cleaning crew at the house and they cleaned and sanitized all of the carpets and flooring and scrubbed the bathrooms and kitchen. While they worked, Faith mopped the walls and I washed windows. Rich and Hayden were on the road making the two hour trek to the closest Home Depot to buy new toilets because I’m a freak and I have raised my children with my freakish ways and none of us were willing to use someone else’s toilets.
This house was built by and for short people and so the squatty potty with the squishy seat was unacceptable.
Rich and Hayden were back by 6:00 and we started moving our possessions from the garage where the movers had left them a couple of weeks ago, to the correct rooms. That first night we got the beds set up and a toilet working by 10:30 and then crashed.
Saturday was full on hustle day. Rich and the kids got the rest of the boxes in and I lined all the kitchen and bathroom shelves and drawers and began unpacking. By Sunday night, the kitchen, bedrooms, bathrooms and living areas were done. We still have boxes to unpack in the storage area and Rich will be assembling his office space for at least another week (being a technical perfectionist is rough).
The house is not my favorite thing. Honestly, the first day I cried because it smells weird and everywhere I look is another project and I just really wanted my Lincoln house. Getting our stuff unpacked helped. I will never again downplay the value of “stuff”. I’ve always tried to say that it’s the people that are important, not the possessions, but there is so much comfort to be gained by being in one’s own bed surrounded by familiar objects.
Slowly the place is growing on me though. The view helps immensely. Every morning I sit out back with the dog to eat my cereal and drink my coffee and just drink in scenery. We have chipmunks and geese and snails and eagles. The first day, the kids found a turtle that Faith named Gary. The second morning they found Gary’s freshly hatched eggs.
I also got a picture of a pelican floating by. I had no idea pelicans lived this far north. Pretty cool.
We finally did close on the house on Monday morning and celebrated by making s’mores in our fire pit. It’s like we have all the great things about camping here and then we can go inside and take a shower and sleep in our own beds.
I guess I can deal with the house. There’s plenty of room and lots of potential. It won’t smell like other people forever and the projects will get done.
For now, we are just going to get settled in and figure out small town life and actually meet people. Apparently bringing baked goods to the new neighbors is not a thing here. I’ve waited for cookies and brownies for days in vain. Looks like I’ll have to get out and make an effort.