After a month of preparation, purging, and packing (with a road-trip thrown in), I'm glad to say that we've arrived at the home we're calling the Summer House, and things are mostly settled for our tenure here.
I've even hung artwork on the walls. I've put food on wooden pantry shelves.
The boys have claimed the open-to-below landing at the top of the stairs as their 'loft' and say that it's like sleeping in a treehouse every night.
I stand looking through the south-side windows, watching storms build up and spill over the mountains; I see it raining there, but not here.
It's quiet.
And it's quirky, this house.
The bathroom outlets don't work; the oven's got a mind of its own. In fact, if I were to tally, more things may be broken than fixed! It's anybody's guess if a light will come on when a switch is flicked - if you can find the switch at all. In some rooms you'll get nothing, in others you'll get six lights and two fans, flailing on high.
I laugh, and sigh, and scratch my head. I wonder about this summer house and its tricks.
It may have a lot to teach me...
* * *
Hello, friends! It's good to be back with you, writing again! And, yes, I'd love to be summering in a day-dream house like the mansion you see up there, (the one you glimpsed here, [Conrad Mansion, Kalispell, MT]), but I'm pretty sure we're in the house we need. So? Here we go!
