Yesterday, we signed up to rent it out through a management company. By Tuesday it will also go on the market for sale. I'm hoping the perfect renter comes along and loves it as much as we do. I sure would feel better knowing we get to come back.
The management lady kept saying, "Oh wow. Oh wow..." as she walked through.
In the week that we've been scrambling, I painted both stairwells, requiring a ladder on stairs. It was a little scary and my kids kept saying, "Please don't die." Sean told me not to put the ladder on stairs, so I waited until he was on call to paint. :)
We've cleared out the largest part of our garage. Some young beefcake friends lifted our 300lb fireplace insert and carted it off as if it was nothing. They carted off a deep freezer and two pick up truck loads worth of kid stuff. I wasn't ready to let go of my baby's Cozy Coupe, but...it's just a toy.
I've painted our ginormous master bath. I'd been putting off painting because our plans were to gut the bathroom. We wanted to get rid of the garden tub and extend our walk in closet by building into half the space of the massive tub. With the remainder of the space we were going to put a shower that all spas would envy. Instead, I painted it gray. I had coffee for dinner and painted all night long. Well, until 4 am. Then Jude woke up having wet the bed the one time I forgot to put the mattress pad under his sheets. Murphy's Law.
(These flowers have been on my hit list since the day we moved in.)
Now that the painting is done, I feel like I've been able to finally release some of the breath I've been holding. There's still a bit more decorating and packing away of extras and clothes sorting and runs to Goodwill and Sean hasn't even begun his first check list. I don't know how we're going to do it, but we're doing it anyway!
This week that we really needed to re-finish the deck that we stripped bare, a hurricane is coming. We need 72 hours of sunshine. Murphy's Law.
The dog woke up this morning with her eye swollen shut. She went to bed whole and woke up broken. Murphy's Law.
There are so many more examples of Murphy's visit to our home, but my brain is too fried to think of them. A funny story about this, though. When Sean called to tell me about Japan, I was shopping with my mom. After the news had settled, she said flippantly, "Well, y'know, Murphy's Law."
I was thinking, "Does she know Murphy's Law is not a good thing?"
On the ride home, she clarified.
When my dad was stationed at Langley himself over thirty years ago, he got orders to move to England. Unexpected and without enthusiasm, he went kicking and screaming. They had bought versus renting, as we have. They needed to sell quickly, as we do. They listed their home for sale through the local newspaper. The newspaper misprinted their ad and put the wrong phone number with their listing. They had no time to fix the problem and my mom said, "Well, y'know, Murphy's Law!" They didn't get any calls on their ad, obviously.
As a last ditch effort to get their house sold, they called the number that the newspaper had listed as theirs. They explained to the person that answered, "Look. We have to sell our house and now. Please, please, if anyone calls give them this, the correct, number."
That person, that perfect stranger that was a huge hinge upon which this whole thing held, did as was asked. He gave their number to one person. That one person called the correct number. That person bought their house. And the person's last name that bought my parent's house, drumroll please, was Murphy.
Isn't that the best story ever?
When my brother was inprocessing when he moved here a few years ago, he had to go to some random military office. When they called his last name, another person waiting said, "I bought a house from a Rutan thirty-some years ago." And so my brother got to meet Mr. Murphy. :)
It's hard not to smile when Murphy's Law comes trolling after a story like that. He's been heavy in our house this week. We have chilled out mostly, stopped the pity party, but there have been some intense moments of stress. I won't lie, I've gone from having super spiritual moments of trust to stark raving, make-a-sailor-blush moments. Sean and I have gone from high-fiving each other on the good fortune of getting to have an adventure to almost committing a crime against one another. I have gone from praising my kids for their hard work to ripping their heads off for recycling clean laundry in with dirty and thereby forcing me to do laundry twice. I don't have time to rewash clean clothes!
My whirling dervish of a three year old seems to live to undo everything I do. I painted the stairwell at midnight-ish, by noon the next day there were dents all over the wall. As if he'd smacked the wall repeatedly with a toy. I don't know where he finds the markers, but he finds them and uses them. His favorite thing in the world is to pump soap all over countertops. Every room I pronounce, "Done!" becomes undone as soon as I leave it unattended. Basically, he's doing everything he's always done, only now I really need him not to.
One fun thing about staging the house is the actual staging part. I don't tend to spend gobs of money on decorating. To have the freedom to go nuts with pumpkins and mums and scarecrows and hay bales and fresh flowers and candles and fluffy towels. I likes it. This chair met it's demise on a fall from the attic. I almost put it out to pasture, but I think I'll get a few more miles out of it. I need to add a bit more to the set up, but I can't wait to see the mums in bloom.