I know our current situation would not work for everyone. In fact, I’m sure the very thought of trying to sell one house, renovating another and awaiting a potential cancer recurrence probably seems like a total nightmare to many of you. But I have to say, this is just what we need right now. This works for us.  The new house is such a bright spot, such a positive distraction. Witnessing the daily transformation from ordinary time-warped house into dream home is enormously satisfying.

Yesterday our countertops were installed and I was gushing to my mother about how much I love them, when she interrupted to say how glad she is that I have this house to occupy my mind and my time. She said this because she knows me. She knows that I function best with the most on my plate. Not that this process has been without its meltdowns, of course, but overall it is so helpful to have something else, something good, on which to focus our emotional and physical energy.

And our countertops, by the way, are fabulous.  I love love love them. We went with a very green granite, never ones to shy away from color.  We had originally tried to find a cream or tan or gray, something much more ordinary, thinking that we would have to live with this color for many many years and we shouldn’t make a big statement. But big statements are what I do and besides, what’s the point of sinking a bunch of money into granite if it’s only ordinary? This one is definitely not ordinary. It’s like jewelry, like a piece of art sitting atop my cabinets.  Enough words, check it out:

My island -- and this doesn't even do it justice

The little strip near the stove -- again not nearly as good as the real thing

The storage warehouse that will one day be our dining room

The exterior of the mudroom -- and this was a week ago; it looks even better now

So we juggle, visits to Santa squeezed between trips to Home Depot, decisions about surgeries offset by decisions about wall colors.  It works for us. And any of the myriad things that might go wrong when renovating a house suddenly seem less important. So, the doors are delayed . . . who cares?  The mudroom roof was leaking? We’ve had worse.  Our perspective is in just the right place. While the house provides a fun and exciting distraction, we know what really matters.

What really matters can be found upstairs in their beds.

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