Okay, so we actually officially signed the papers back in October, but since I hadn't been living here, it didn't seem real. Yet. But now I'm here and in addition to my regular on-line bank statements, there is this one scary addition, labeled MORTGAGE. Yikes.
But so far, it's turning out to be pretty great. I like to be freakishly organized (and am dragging poor Jon down with me), so nearly all of the boxes were unpacked within a day of moving in. We are nearly finished hanging up all the pictures and posters we've acquired from our various travels through Europe...and to garage sales.
Since I'm currently on sabbatical from teaching (which is a much nicer way of saying that I'm unemployed), I've spent the past week or so playing housewife. I may not have cooked every meal, but I have done the majority of the laundry.
I now yield to my friend and teaching colleague Nicole with an insightful description of the aforementioned washer and dryer:
"Somehow, purchases of major appliances thrust you into the stratosphere of adulthood like nothing else can. Not sure what that is about, but there is definitely something there. Maybe it’s because a washer and dryer are the secret keepers of a household. They see the good, the bad, and the ugly sides of life. They accept, without argument or excuse, the mistakes we make when we aren’t careful with the things that belong to us; they take the blame of 'dryer shrinkage' when last year’s clothes don’t fit so well; they are an integral part of the joyful experience of washing baby clothes for the first time; and, they only fall off balance occasionally. "
Deep, huh? Much better than I could describe, hence the quote. Prior to reading Nicole's e-mail, I was only going to mention the comedy of errors that occurred when we tried to haul the darn things up the stairs. Sure, we saved a bundle on delivery charges, but at 10 pm on a cold (rainy) November night, I was certainly not in the mood to entertain any engineering whims on how to move the appliances upstairs. Especially when the 275-pound washer hit me in the face as we lifted it out of the truck.
I huffed and puffed (even though we all know Jon did most of the heavy lifting) the dryer up the stairs, but the washer was simply not happening. So we left it in the garage and called it a night. The next day, Jon came home during his lunch break as usual (we only live about 10 minutes from post) with a slew of new ideas. We scooted it, we pushed it, we tilted it, we turned it...all to no avail.
Until Jon saw his trusty fest table standing in the corner.
Some of you may already have guessed what he was thinking. I, however, had no clue until he laid the bench across the stairs as a ramp. We tested this method up to the first landing and it worked like a charm. Now we only had 16 more steps up a very narrow staircase to go!
With a mighty heave, Jon pushed the washer up the stairs as I did my best to help. But we were faced with a dilemma when we reached the end of the first bench. How to line up the two benches and make a smooth transition from one to the other? There was no way I was going to fit in between the washer and the wall, so I ran around outside and back in through the front door multiple times to make adjustments, all while Jon placidly supported the massive appliance. I can only imagine what the construction guys working on the siding outside were thinking about the whole ordeal.