Lovely, isn't it? Well, this is my livingroom. Ever since we moved in, the livingroom and diningroom have been the staging areas. All the boxes went there first before moving on to the rooms they lived in. All the furniture we didn't know what to do with; all the boxes; all the odds and ends.
We've been living in the bedrooms, bathrooms, family room and kitchen, but now the living and diningrooms are coming into play.
The Piano arrives Monday.
Yes. The Piano. THE piano. The very same piano that my very helpful husband accidently tipped over because the little piano wheels don't roll well on just-cleaned damp carpet. It laid on its back for four days, with big pieces of it missing. It took every one of our big, strong friends to pick the thing back up. And it hasn't been quite right since. Half the hammers seem to have leaned over to the left just enough that if you hit a key, the note next to it plays. It's missing its front and a few crucial bits of hardware (probably IN the piano somewhere), but Gary the piano guy says it's relatively easy to fix - so when it finally moves out of our old house, it will move here rather than to the dump. Just to OUR dump. Which I'm trying to get cleared out and ready to recieve our battered piano.
On the right side of the picture, under a bunch of pillows and behind those boxes, is a couch. It was left by the owners because they didn't have anywhere to put it and I said "sure, leave it here - we don't have anything to sit on anyway." Well - the livingroom is the ONLY place in the house it can be. It doesn't fit through any of the other doors. But the only place the couch can be is also the only place the piano will fit, so the couch has to go.
I picked up a bunch of stuff and redistributed it around the house, then I tried to move the couch into the family room, which was the original plan and when I discovered that it doesn't fit through our doors. (For those of you wondering, my dear man was down at the old house cleaning out the garden shed and not having any fun his own self.) I did get it into the foyer. I stood it on its end; I twisted it around and tried every configuration to get it out of the livingroom. Then I couldn't get it out of the foyer. Then I couldn't get out of the foyer. I finally managed to climb over the thing and called my brother Matthew through tears of frustration.
Poor Matt was in the middle of a first date. Fortunately for me, they had reached that point where they'd eaten, gone swimming, taken a walk and were wondering what to do next. Matt came right over and we went through the whole manipulation exercise again. We finally got it out the front door and into the carport. And the box of trash, and a big, weird desk/shelf that the owner had also left behind. Bless you, Matt... my hero once again.
Matt went off to continue his date, and I sighed in relief. I might not get the painting and sprucing up done that I wanted to get done this weekend, but there is a SPACE for the piano come Monday.
4 comments:
My boyfriend has been living in his house for a little over a year and he has a spare bedroom that STILL looks like that. There's a constant unfinished look to everything.
I commend you for trying to get the job DONE.:)
We moved into our house in 2002 and we still have a spare bedroom that looks like that.
doh.
Go Sayre!
Ughh... That is why I hate moving. The next house we move into will be the last for quite a while.
Next time, I suggest hiring someone to paint first. Saves so much time and headache later. Plus it is one less thing you have to "get around to" so no guilt involved.
Good luck!
PS. I am jealous about the piano, I always wanted to learn to play.
I am a die-hard do-it-yourself-er. I think it might actually kill me to hire someone to paint! I like to be able to think about it while in progress.
The piano came from my mom when she inherited her mother's piano. None of us officially play, but my husband noodles around on it and my son is very musically inclined. He loves playing the piano even though he can't really play it. Lessons in the future when he asks for them...
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