Home…sick

Peter and I recently celebrated our 4th anniversary of moving from the country to the city. Are we happy with our new home? I hope that the upbeat tone of my blog posts has told you the answer to that.

I have often written about the joys of living in our new neighbourhood: kayaking down the Humber River to the lake, feeding the deer in the cemetery, walking to local markets and festivals, hopping on the subway to explore downtown. I’ve also told you about the happiness we have found in our new house: swinging on the patio with the grandkids, hosting pandemic Christmas parties in the garage, reaping the bountiful produce from Peter’s vegetable garden, and looking after the mice in the sunroom. (Yes they were in a cage!).

Oh there have been a few challenges. You might remember that, when we first moved in, our grandson Ben, who was 2 at the time, went for a walk with us and loudly proclaimed to everyone: “Road broken, Nonno!” And indeed it was: potholes, cracks and crumbling curbs everywhere. In fact it still is broken, only worse because the road construction I wrote about in April of this year is still not finished. Now we live with potholes as well as porta-potties, and decorative orange cones.

And there was the time the sink collapsed into the cupboard below. Or the toilet that broke when our 2 favourite repairmen were on holidays. But, for the most part, we have been really happy with our new lives. So, when we heard that my niece Amy and her new husband and son were coming from out west to visit us, we couldn’t wait to show them around. We started making lists of things we needed to do to get ready.

First we tackled the sleeping arrangements. As we have only one guest bedroom, where would the son sleep? Would he like the garage with no Christmas decorations? Since the mice have moved on, would he like the sunroom – with no blinds, and a saggy sofa bed? Or would he prefer the basement with no bed at all? Our daughter came to the basement’s rescue with a blow-up mattress, we added a couple of chairs, and we renamed the space “The Lower Level.” Perfect.

I was on a roll! I hit the kitchen and began cleaning out cupboards and drawers. Then I remembered the toaster, the one with capacity for 4 slices which now only toasted 2 slice at a time. It was hard enough for just Peter and me at breakfast. How would 5 of us manage? A new toaster must be purchased! Then I moved on to the living room and noticed that the 3 lamps had light bulbs with 3 different shades of white. Oh No – Decor disaster!

Before I had time to deal with this calamity, Peter called me outside. How were we going to get the geraniums to bloom for the guests’ arrival? Would some high-powered fertilizer do the trick? Could we manage to get the ivy to grow longer and cover the cracks in the wall below in just a few weeks? What could we do about the yellow spots in the grass where a visiting dog had recently peed? This was a tricky one for sure.

Suddenly we looked at each other and started laughing at our foolishness. Maybe a less time-consuming approach was in order. Maybe we could just keep our guests so busy chatting with us that they wouldn’t even notice all the flaws. Peter began brushing up on on all his favourite anecdotes, and I searched the newspapers for human interest stories. For added support, we invited more people to visit. Maybe there was no need to be home…sick at all.

Sue