The Cabin

We moved in this weekend. Moving days are always tough, because moving is the absolute worst, but this move was supposed to be painless because we have had 85% of our belongings packed and in storage for the whole summer already. Another aspect meant to lead to the ease of moving was the fact that we decided to only move one bedroom's worth of stuff into Southmore. One bed, a couple bedside tables, a lamp or two . . . there's no real point to moving all of our belongings into the house because we would only have to move it all out again when it is time to refinish the floors. 

Even small moves turn big when a mattress is involved.

This move was vibrating with the excitement about finally sleeping for the first time at the house we have owned for ten months, but was also tinged with trepidation at the prospect of moving into a house that still does not have central air or proper electricity. Sure, we could run extension cords to the bedroom that we would be sleeping in to light a lamp, and we could buy a window unit to keep the room cool, but the lack of amenities made it feel like we would be moving into the house for no other reason than we had given ourselves a deadline. 

All of this would need to be patched before moving in.

The planned ease of the move was swiftly cancelled out be the amount of physical labor needed to make even one room remotely livable. We decided a while ago to move into the smallest bedroom once we realized that it would be difficult to move the piles of reclaimed shiplap from the other two rooms, but the bedroom that we would be moving into still needed shiplap on an entire wall. James worked, not tirelessly because he was often exhausted, but diligently and lovingly to patch up the room that would be our first sleeping place. We still don't have any rooms that are finished, but we now have a room that I can confidently call "the closest to finished to date."

James' hard work pays off.

We've taken to calling our first bedroom "the cabin." The darkness of the wood walls and the sound of the struggle of the window unit working overtime really make us feel like we're staying in some hot mountain summer cabin whose visitors long for the day they return to civilization. It's not that we're not enjoying the novelty of staying in a place with so few luxuries, but we're ready for the day when we feel clean and cool in our house.

Rudimentary closet. We'll put shiplap on the walls inside the closet after we've patched other rooms.

We've all missed this mattress. There's something about one's own mattress that leads to a better night's sleep.

That crate makes the room feel a bit smaller, but we're used to sharing our space with such a huge creature.