However, we made it to 3675 yesterday.

Our trusted friends at Got 2 Move (fourth time using them) got us in on time and on budget, under the direction to basically just vomit all our possessions into a pile in the middle of the living room.

Meanwhile, under the house, Randy, Travis, and Kyle were epoxying the foundation for the seismic retrofit. When the vomiting ceased upstairs and the Got 2 Move boys were paid and on their way, we all clocked out and went down to The Oaks Card Club for a good, hearty lunch, courtesy of Randy (I kind of want him to adopt me but I don’t know how to ask…).

My grandfather, by the way, would FREAKIN’ LOVE THE OAKS. I’ve been wanting to go in there for ages and it nearly brought a tear to my eye, the place was sooo Sam Spade…

Playing floor of The Oaks Card Club in Emeryville, California.

Sam Spade would crush all those dudes.

Even though I suggested we hang around The Oaks for the rest of the day watching the Texas Hold ’em tournament with Randy and Travis and drinking beer, alas — we sent the Giannis home to Santa Rosa and went back to 3675 to unpack part of our heaping pile of crap. I don’t know HOW that happened.

Trent unpacking dishes in our kitchen.

Unpacking Nazi.

By nightfall, though, we had made a little dent. And we got a little more company, when Marlene stopped by with beer and snacks. We entertained our first true guest in our evolving living room, eating spicy guacamole and talking about raising fruit trees and raising puppies and all the stuff we’re going to do together in the Easy Bay now that we’re neighbors.

We slept in our guest room, because there are still holes in our bedroom wall, but when I woke up this morning I was surprised to find that we did get a decent amount done yesterday…

Our living room on our first morning in the house.

Living Room: Morning 1.

I can maintain this feeling as long as I don’t look in this direction:

Our huge pile of boxes.


I’m fired up, though. We’ll be back at it tonight and every night, as long as it takes (which will probably be forever, since we’re homeowners now).

And by “we,” I mean me and Trent. Sam is a lazy good-for-nothing puppy loafer. He’s lucky we let him come along.

Sam sleeping in a pile of unpacked towels.

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8 thoughts on “CHAOS!

  1. Sitting here viewing the post with the grandparents and we have decided that you are crazy and the house looks wonderful for someone who just moved in! TOLD YA!!! I love the living room. Grandma wants to know if Randy is single and old enough for me. She would like to have another builder in the family. Grandpa loves Marlene (he still calls her “Red Dress”), and we all love the house. Grandpa thinks the computer is G.D. neat, because it is like he is there. And I think he would like that poker room. As for that lazy, good for nothing dog of yours, if you decide to give him up, I will take him. DID YOU EVER THINK I WOULD SAY THAT?!?!? And you and Marlene should raise puppies and grow fruit, and I will move out there and can it with you, and we will start our own line of west coast jellies. I am tired of health care anyway. CAN’T WAIT TO SEE ALL OF YOU!! Invite the builder too! Love, Mom

  2. Marlene says:

    I can’t wait to see you Munga and Sam and Lucy and I am honored to have been the first guest and it is all PERFECT (as long as you didn’t look um was it West?) 🙂

  3. mary granata says:

    Lisa you amaze me. Even with a major project like a move, you take the time to share. Love reading your post! Your home is beautiful!!!
    Margie…you make me smile. Hugs

  4. This is so exciting! I can’t wait for you to settle in and come visit!

  5. Carla Daniels says:

    OOHH those Got 2 Move boys…..swwoooooonnnnnn. How I love them. Oh, and congrats on getting all moved in! Love the living room set up already!

  6. lisatemp says:

    Well, it ain’t pretty, but we ARE entertaining guests. So come on over, folks!

  7. Hey! Temple Jams and Jellies was *my* idea! 🙂

    And, yeah, Lisa, you’re nuts, the place already looks like my place looked after I’d been there a good six months.

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