Yesterday morning on the way to work, there was thick fog along the road: fog in the fields, fog in the swamp, even fog on the expressway. Today, there were lumps of cotton all alongside the roadway. Now I know I'm back home for sure.
We moved back into our house a week ago yesterday, Thursday, the 3rd. I didn't really have time to write anything then because we were so overwhelmed with all we had to do, plus my daughter and her friend were going to come to visit the next day, and we had to have the bedrooms put together. There are still some boxes of books to dust and put on the shelves (the wrong shelves--I don't know when I can get them back where they belong.); there are some problems with the gas line; the porch and yard look like a cross between a construction site and a slum; there's a lot of dusting and arranging still to do; but by and large we are settled in.
For a while, I had an absolute dread of going home. The house was really dreadful. There were sheets of white plastic hanging everywhere that didn't seem to protect anything, but made everything seem alien and hostile. My things were piled up and mistreated. The large kitchen was completely filled with boxes stacked two deep. We could barely forge a path to the (only) bathroom. I felt like the house was actively hostile.
Now, everything is peaceful and it feels like my home again. It looks so very much better than it ever has before that while the thought of the work to be done exhausts me, I am very grateful. I had gotten so used to living in the condo (almost 3 months), and it was such an easy life, that I was worried that I would miss it, but already those months seem to be rapidly receding into to the murky recesses of my memory.
So, thank you for your prayers.
I'll post some pictures when things look a bit more finished.