Like a Dog's Itchy Butt by Janie DeVos

 

              The theme for April, at WordWranglers, is new beginnings, and it’s the perfect topic for me because this weekend my husband and I, with our two Bassets in tow, are spending the night in our lake house for the first time.  

I’ve been busy getting the place ready, and to me “ready” means that the place feels like we’ve been living in it for some time.  Not that I want a bunch of nicks on the wall, but, hey, if a little ding happens here and there, I won’t be thrown into panic mode trying to find the paint can and brush.  There’s plenty of art work up on the walls, the floors have area rugs, each room is fully furnished, and the doggy beds have been put in place.  We’re ready to go!  At least in theory we are.  

It’s going to be interesting to see how long it takes for us to really feel “at home”; before we’re not opening three different cabinets to find our drinking glasses, or fumbling around in the dark trying to find the light switch.  No doubt, it’ll be frustrating, exciting, aggravating and funny, but also a lesson in patience. 

Yesterday, I was over there by myself for the first time, stocking the place with groceries and sundries.  My husband wasn’t with me, no construction workers were there, and it was sheer (and silent) bliss.  But, after a while, I turned on the TV, (which took me 15 minutes to figure out), just for the background noise.  We’re funny creatures, we are.  At least I am.  Though I often like keeping the world at bay, it’s still comforting knowing there’s a world out there, and the small voices issuing forth from the TV in my office were oddly reassuring.  Yes, I have a TV in my office because I’ll use that as a place where I can shut myself off to watch what I want, while my husband watches his choice in the living room.  And just to make sure that “my special place” was going to be comfortable enough, I settled into my overstuffed chair, threw a comforter over myself and settled back to watch a segment about the Shroud of Turin, on an old episode of “Unsolved Mysteries”.  My special spot will work quit nicely I discovered, after nodding off for half an hour, but, hey, every house-setter-upper needs a little break, right? 

When I got back home at 5:00, rather then start dinner right away, I sat down at my computer and immediately started ordering all those things I noticed we still need at the lake house while they were still fresh on my mind.  An hour later, new candles, a small rug, baking pans and a blanket were all en route thanks to Amazon Prime, and our easy dinner of steaks on the grill and baked potatoes was underway. 

Though I’ve worked at the speed of light to make this new house into a home, there’s a method to my madness: My distressed-white writing desk with newly set up laptop is beckoning to me.  But because I’m anal, or OCD, or whatever this month’s flavor of mental instability is, I’m the poster child for it, and if each room in my house isn’t done, or near-enough-so anyway, then I’ll be distracted, just as I have been for nearly two years.  When that’s the case, I can’t get any writing done until the cause of that distraction has been remedied.  I’m like a dog with an itchy butt; he’s going to stop whatever he’s doing to relieve it.  I’m the dog’s butt and the unfinished house décor is that maddening itch.  Thus, the pantry is full, each bed has been made, and there are tables, artwork and rugs in all the right places.  Ahhhh, itch all gone!   

Now, at long last, I can write…Wait!  What’s that?!  Is that a corner void of a floor lamp????  Crap!  I’m coming, Wayfair!