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Home again, home again, Finnegan Fannegan*

We are home. Not just back north of the 49th parallel, but in our own home. Well, ours and TD Bank's. This time around, the move went far more smoothly than last. Don't get me wrong...they were rough spots. The cleaners we hired to help get the PMQ ready for march out were not particularly thorough, Zeppelin had explosive diarrhea in our motel room in Fredericksburg, and Dexter decided to wait until after our hose had been packed and our bathrooms cleaned to have a nice roll around in some skunk poo. But those incidents were nothing compared to our previous move's SNAFUs. This time, our F&E arrived on time, and most of the boxes have already been unpacked and carted away. The only damages we've noted so far are a crushed wok lid, a dented toaster, and a chipped salad bowl.

Capt Mike and I are puppiless at the moment. Dexter and Zeppelin are staying with their grandparents in Simcoe. We thought they'd have a less stressful time there than they would here while we were running around doing our closing-related business and starting on our home renovations. We were right. So far, they've been treated to swim sessions almost every day, long walks every day, hamburgers, steak, beef knuckles, and the constant attention of their doting Grampa Jerry. I am actually slightly worried that they won't want to leave their canine Shangri La to come home on Saturday. I am hoping that homemade meatballs and caesar salad will help them remember they have a pretty sweet deal here, too.

Being puppiless, Capt Mike and I have been a whirlwind of activity since last Thursday when the house officially became ours. Veritable taping, painting, carpet lifting, vinyl laying, furniture assembling, unpacking, organizing, reorganizing, cleaning, laundering, mowing, trimming, and watering machines. We've painted the dining room, living room, den-now-dog room, bedroom, Mike's study, and the wall in the basement that had been covered in olive drab velvetted wall paper. We've pulled out the shag carpet that was in the "den" off of the dining room, and installed peel and stick vinyl tile and painted over the wood panelling to make a cheerful and dog-friendly containment facility. (Our next project, before I return to school in September, is to install a doggy door, so the boys can come and go from their garden of earthly delights as they please.) We've hung new curtains in the living and dining rooms, and a bamboo blind in the dog room. We've assembled our rec room Ikea furniture (a Poang, a Beddinge, and four Laks). We've even started to hang pictures in the rooms where we've finished painting molding and trim. Today, a man is coming to paint our foyer and Phase 1 of the cosmetic updating of our home will be complete. Phases 2 (recarpetting the basement and downstairs), 3 (updating the fixtures in both bathrooms), and 4 (updating the kitchen) require more time and money, which we will likely not have until I've graduated. Once that's done, we'll likely be moving on. Such is the life of the wife of a soldier.

*My mom used to say this almost every time she pulled our Volvo into the driveway of where ever we were living when I was a wee one. I may not be remembering it correctly, having last heard it through the ears of a 4 year old. I've heard variations of it over the years, but would love to know the origins of the phrase.