“Happy Saturday. I am headed back up to the place today and excited to unpack.”
The house in Cornwall-on-Hudson had finally closed.
The day of the closing was long. By the time I got inside, I had a couch to sleep on and enough time to unpack a small fireplace and a grill. I cooked a steak, mushrooms, and asparagus with a stick of butter and some aluminum foil, ate on the patio, and watched a rainstorm roll through.
It was an absolutely fantastic first night.
The next visit started with a project list.
The underside of the back deck needed to be sealed so the ground-floor patio could stay dry. The television in the kitchen and living room needed to come down, followed by patching, paint, and blank wall plates. The radon system drained into a temporary bucket that needed to go. The patio door only closed if you leaned into it.
I also wanted a Murphy bed in the upstairs guest room.
We had barely unpacked, but I was already asking for help finding a plumber, carpenter, handyman, and someone who could deal with the deck. This was not a grand renovation yet. It was the first pass at making the house work the way Amanda and I wanted it to work.
The timing was a little absurd. I had just accepted the Wahoo job and was setting up an apartment in Atlanta so I could be near the office. I was still going back and forth to New York, trying to make the new house usable, and arranging work with people who could keep things moving when I was not there.
Within a week, the plumber and handyman were being scheduled and the deck contractor was being tracked down. I was headed back to Cornwall for the weekend. Amanda and I were going to ride our bikes.
There were boxes to open and furniture to buy. The first project was already underway.