|A portion of the packing material|
|Sunset: after railings, and in the midst of exterior painting|
Though we still had the views.
|A pot rack, at last!|
A friend of ours generously helped us unpack a large number of books into the built-in shelves on the main floor. There was a delay in settling into the music room as the shelving unit that was originally in the closet (and would have been perfect for keeping the instruments off the floor) vanished down the same hole as the toilets. We also had to wait for a thermostat to be moved so the bookshelves could go up. But that (or the path to the door in various states of being dug up and replaced) didn’t deter us from rehearsing in it.
|If only they would sort themselves onto the shelves.|
“Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds”. . . but if you move the mailbox a couple yards, forget about it. It was up next to the front door for weeks before the mail carrier finally told the head carpenter that she won't deliver anything until we move the mailbox closer to the street. Ironically, the only mail we received was a notice from the Post Office confirming our change of address. After the mailbox was moved, I went down to my ‘local post office’ as instructed, to retrieve the mail and ask them to resume normal delivery. The man at the counter said, "you have to go to the annex" (which was due to close in twenty minutes). I zipped over there on my bike only to discover they couldn’t find our mail, and there was no hold notice in our mail compartment in the sorting area. They took my phone number and promised to call after they spoke to the mail carrier. The impression I got was that the mail carrier is all knowing and all powerful. Indeed, once the clerk spoke to her, our missing mail was found, and service resumed. All that trouble for a few bills. . . and a pair of slippers with non slip soles.
|Our illegally placed mailbox in the corner by the door.|