We’ve been living in this house for months, now. Finally, I feel like it’s starting to come together after our many settling in ‘issues’.
One issue became apparent during this winter’s first thunderstorm, when I had just sat down on the couch, and was thinking how good it was that I’d finished unpacking and could finally relax. The rain was pelting down. “Gee, that rain’s loud,” I thought. “Like … really loud. Oh – that would be because it’s raining in HERE!!”
Ah yes, the new house. I did say it would have its quirks, didn’t I? Well, that sure was an understatement. I’ve moved right into the middle of Quirkville.
This new home of ours is taking a little getting used to. The ‘rustic’ kitchen is distinctly barnlike, except for the bench, which is more minimalist in style. As in, there’s barely any of it. An old chimney in the kitchen expels drafts of freezing musty air. I’m sleeping in the dining room. The shower’s in a cave (makes a change from a cupboard), and what was extravagantly called the third bedroom is a cold draughty room about the size of a large wardrobe. The heating duct in that room produces as much heat as your average birthday candle, and the roof leaks. A lot. Over the last week or so, I’ve spent a goodly amount of time either up a ladder or on my hands and knees (and not in a fun way). I’ve been high on Nifti for days on end.
On my moving house ‘To Do’ list is an item that says ‘Remove bee bubble wrap’.
That’s because here, in this house I have rented for six-and-a-half years, the bees come to visit every November. They check the house out, buzz around a lot and live in the walls for a while. The more intrepid explorers come inside through the old-fashioned vents in the ceiling. I don’t mind a few bees, but one day there were so many flying around my courtyard the air was thick with them – like a noisy, fuzzy fog – and I was too scared to go out the back door. I called the Bee Man that time, but by the time he turned up there wasn’t one to be found. Pesky things! The bee man said they were most likely scout bees, who wouldn’t ever set up a permanent home here. They just like to visit. I realised I could stuff bubble wrap in the old vents to stop the bees getting in, and I learned to live with their appearance quite happily.
The annual bee visit is one of the quirks of this house. So is the racket of the trains whizzing past, the cold seeping up through the floorboards from the basement, the regular cacophony from the neighbours’ cats (Oh, WHY do they congregate under my bedroom window for their love-fests?) and the fact that the shower is in a cupboard.