It is again Friday afternoon, and I’m preparing to meet my husband at our new condo. Thus far having the condo has been an adventure, in a good way. We’ve spent two nights there, on successive Fridays, and this weekend we will be there Friday night AND Saturday night.
Feeling comfortable there has been a process. We are in a kind of squatter’s limbo. We don’t want to take much down there because everything will have to be moved for renovation. Normally I would scrub every surface of a dwelling I had purchased, but we’re not going doing it here, because it will all be torn out. Yet it has to have a decent enough atmosphere for me to stay there without cringing and holding my muscles in uncomfortable positions, the way one automatically does in a place where one does not want to put one’s purse on the floor. I was already a little disappointed when we went to the condo for the first time because my husband had not yet changed the air conditioner filter, and I thought the place smelled like like a dead foot.
With the afore mentioned dilemma in mind, we started out the first weekend with an air mattress, linens, and basic toiletries. The footies I remembered to bring so I could walk inside without shoes were an added plus. We weren’t there very long, because we had theater tickets. In the morning my companion went out and bought us coffee to drink on the balcony.
That morning, sipping our not so good coffee, we outlined what we thought were the next vital needs for the condo. Me: Lamp beside the air mattress. One cannot be expected to sleep in a room where one cannot read. Him: Balcony height chairs and a coffee maker. Me: Change the air conditioner filter! These improvements were unanimously approved.
The second weekend we arrived armed with the coffee maker and coffee, and had the balcony furniture on order. I had scrounged up a lamp and a little table for the bedroom. My husband had stopped by earlier in the week to change the nasty air conditioner filter. And when we entered the condo, SURPRISE!!! the balcony furniture had arrived! And the place smelled much better!
That night had a more relaxed pace, because we did not have the theater deadline. After unloading our new supplies we headed down to Mud Island, where our youngest son works as a server in a casual grill. He ushered us to our reserved table where we were able to have a leisurely dinner, knowing we would be receiving stellar service!
While we were waiting for our dinner I slipped out to get a few shots of the Mississippi River and the bridge in the dusk. Standing there, with my camera poised to snap, I had the lovely revelation that we were making this condo a home. By staying there even when we didn’t walk to walk there barefoot, by enjoying a glass of wine on our too small chairs on the balcony, by coming down to Mud Island and recording the evening, we were making memories. And each small memory would now be attached in our minds to the condo. A new chapter had really begun.
After dinner my sweet husband and I unpacked the furniture box. I was determined to do my share putting the furniture together. Naturally the directions had few words if any, and screws and things kept spilling out of those little plastic bags and rolling into oblivion. My husband was very patient with my “help,” stopping what he was doing to show me how to use those little wrenches and providing helpful information such as, “Screws generally go in clockwise.” When we got the first chair put together he kindly suggested I try out the chair and let him finish the job. Since it was so late I accepted his offer.
Now we are the veterans of two nights at the condo. Events have lined up so that this weekend we plan to spend two nights there. Tonight we will go to the theater, tomorrow meet the plumber to discuss the renovation, go to a festival and to a party. My husband doesn’t know it but I am bring a second air mattress to slide in under the first one. I’ll let you know how it goes!