Thursday, January 1: Let's Rent Out the House
Let the 2026 edition of Skipping Town begin. And let us begin with a renovation.
Before Molly, Jeremy, and Luca left today, Jeremy helped Andrew move all the furniture out of the family room. This was no small task: two couches, a massively heavy bureau, a large farmhouse table, a leather armchair. Once they left, Andrew did the rest: a glass coffee table (with Greta's help), lamps. Mom and Dad came over in the afternoon to help us with the next phase: moving out all of the plants and all of the contents of every kitchen cupboard.
It took a few hours, but we did it. We have relocated our kitchen and family room entirely to the basement. The plants are now collected in various areas, and I hope they survive this time away from their favorite windows. Andrew and I spent the rest of the day organizing, putting away, storing, arranging. The end result is actually quite cozy and functional. The farmhouse table is in the Long Room, a perfect spot for playing games by the fire. The large couch is in the dining room, a way station. The small couch is in the basement, along with the coffee table. We have fully stocked cupboards and drawers in the basement kitchen, with shelves for food. It's fine! It works! It's basically an apartment, larger than some of the apartments where Andrew and I lived in NYC. Andrew suggested we just live in the basement and rent out the rest of the house.
Farrah is unsettled by this relocation. When Mom carried her basket of toys to the basement today, she followed close at Mom's heels and then just sat by her basket, confused and alarmed.
Tonight the four of us gathered round the basement TV and watched the final Lord of the Rings. The girls really liked the movies. "I'm really glad we watched these," Lucia announced at the end, thrilling Andrew, who has been trying to get them to watch these movies for ages. I like the movies too (I've seen them all before), but I have to close my eyes for the graphic, brutal battle scenes with the orcs, and they go on for so long that I inevitably just wind up falling asleep.
I succumbed to the usual January 1 melancholy by the end of the day. I hate this thin first day of the year. But now the year can begin. Moving forward, always.
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