Our shipment is en route with all our stuff, presumably chugging slowly along the Panama canal as I type.
In the meantime we have a small perfectly formed house in which to live. We are making do with some gap-filling bits and bobs. I've described it as camping but it's better than that. Still, I miss our stuff and am looking forward to being reunited with lots of material possessions. Yes, I'm that shallow.
But our ship is carrying all the little things that make a house a home. Not just the sofa and dining table, and all our clothes. Also a lifetime's worth of books, a lovely orange plate from my granny, TLOML's childhood baseball glove, and you know, tchotchkes. And useful things that we could replace, but it seems wasteful to do so when the ship will be docking in a couple of weeks. For example, my clever egg timer that cooks in the pan with the eggs. Last night's devilled eggs were a little on the soft side. And, for another example, a cheese grater. I guess I might be taking Von's up on that offer after all.
When our ship comes in we can watch TV from a sofa, not a rug.
When our ship comes in we will eat at a dining table, seated on dining chairs. The office chairs will be deployed to the office, where they belong.
When our ship comes in the beach towels will be for the beach, and our nice bathroom will get the fluffy white towels it deserves.
When our ship comes in we can relegate the sofa bed to the guest room and sleep on a Queen again.
When our ship comes in I will have more than three pairs of trousers to choose from. And I can keep them on coathangers too!
And perhaps most importantly, when our ship comes in Lady P will have a proper cot, and all her toys and books. We can throw out the Pampers box and install her toy box, and instead of reading stories sitting on the floor, we can get cosy on her daybed. We may even have replaced the crappy paper blackout blinds with something pretty by then too.
Hurry up, ship!