Friday, March 10, 2006

A housing retrospective...and resignation

Ah, yes. I remember this day. The day our house arrived “completely finished” on the back of several tractor trailers.

We were so full of hope then.

“Thanksgiving will be a little sparse this year,” I laughed naively. We wouldn’t be unpacked, you see. It was the middle of October and I figured by the time we moved in and got somewhat organized, I couldn’t possibly have found the huge turkey roaster and Dirtman’s grandparents’ dishes, which were among the first things to be packed.

That was when the man from the housing company reluctantly informed us that there were certain things that couldn’t be done at the plant to finish our house, due to having to drag it up a gravel hill.

We were oh-so understanding. It’s the price one must pay to live in a wooded secluded area. That’s okay, we assured him. So Christmas among the packing boxes would be a little chaotic. But, hey, we’ve waited this long just to get to this point, what’s another few weeks?

“I hear you want to be in here by Thanksgiving,” our electrician said as we took him around the house a few days later.

“I was told that was a little unrealistic,” I admitted. “We’re aiming for Christmas.”

All he said was, “Hmmm.”

Easter would be at our new house! I announced at a family gathering shortly after this. Wouldn’t the nieces and nephews enjoy searching for Easter eggs in the woods? I had this insane idea that, in addition to the two gnomes we had already purchased, I’d scatter several more around the land and place eggs next to each one for the younger kids to find. I had a whole story concocted for them.

I remember someone joking that maybe we shouldn’t make plans for the house until we were actually in it.

“It had better be done by then,” Dirtman snapped. “That’s almost five months from now. That’s plenty of time.”

We both laughed in that hysterical way that is one step away from insanity, the kind of laugh that never quite reaches your eyes. The kind of laugh that scares people.

Shortly after that the lists began and the picture began to sharpen.

At first people asked how things were going, almost apologetically. Now they just cross the street when they see us coming. I realized our voices were taking on a tinge of madness when discussing our construction project. People feared for us, but from a distance.

We no longer make plans for the house. We know now that we will never actually occupy the house. We will visit the house. We will talk about the house. We will use phrases like, “If we were in the new house…” and talk about how wonderful life would be.

But we will never actually live in the house. I know this now. We must accept and embrace our role as eternal overseers of never-ending construction.

Resistance is futile.

9 comments:

anne said...

I just happened upon your blog after hitting the "Next Blog" button on the Casino horseshoe tunica blog. Which I had no intention of reading but "Next Blog" is kind of like blog roulette. As it turns out, this time I was a winner! What a great blog you have!

Regarding the house...fear not! I have never heard of anyone building a house that didn't turn into a wild-eyed, drooling maniac by the time they moved in.

I am definitely adding your blog to my List-of-blogs-to-check-out-whenever-I-sit-my-butt-down-at-the-computer-to-do-important-stuff-but-end-up-reading-blogs-instead list.

Jagosaurus said...

Sisiggy- While I do feel your pain, I think it is better that you have come to accept the reality of your situation. But never fear, you will almost certainly be in the house by Labor Day. Of 2007.

Leslie Shelor said...

Resignation is a beautiful thing.

zib said...

Is it bad that your post made me giggle? Yes yes Labor Day 2007 is a lucky day it is!

sisiggy said...

Anne: Thank you! You saved me from having to eat a pint of Starbuck's coffee ice cream...for today, anyway.

Jag: I quote Dirtman: "We're heading for Northern Virginia. I got a dinosaur to kill."

Leslie: You need to teach your cousin not to poke sticks at the sad animals through the cage bars.

Zib: Is it that tight-jawed, wild-eyed kind of giggle that is slightly disturbing? Then it's not bad at all. You'd fit right in around here.

Jagosaurus said...

Fat lot of good it will do you asking Leslie to reign me in.

Leslie Shelor said...

Sorry, JAG is teaching me to be more - assertive.

Mrs Lifecruiser said...

Oh my... Poor sisiggy I said when I read this... had to read it out loud to Mr Lifecruiser too and we both just sighed and laughed a little bit crazy just like you.
*just shaking our heads*

It's the never ending (house) story... maybe you could sell the story to some moviemaker, I mean considering the fact that you ARE a star after all.....

Good luck anyway :-D

Hick said...

Heh! We thought about buying a piece of property and building our dream house on it...

Then we thought again and decided to buy an already built one.

Sorry about your troubles.