A red letter day. I'm opening the house to visitors to celebrate. I haven't got sign off, consent or insurance but I'm in residence. The formalities will happen and the finishing could take weeks, especially with Christmas looming. The pre-Christmas, I want to be in my house, rush has already started.
There's cloud and it's cool. Not so many kids as it's school activity day. I have two slots practising the school haka. It helps embed the movement and words- when you repeat and repeat, the brain recognises and welcomes the patterns. I'm home by early afternoon and Kahu is washing dust off windows. We have an argument carrying the bench in and he picks it up by himself again. When he puts it down and moves it along the floor it makes a deep, visible scratch. Another. Moving the couch the argument flares again. I know where I want it but he questions. This times he leaves for Chris's and I'm on my own rushing to tidy up before people arrive. Really annoyed.
Nothing a drink can't fix. My colleagues arrive and I pour my first glass of bubbly. There's a stream of friends who celebrate with me. They're stoked, I'm stoked. It's been an epic journey. And I'm nearly there. Later in the evening we turn on the chandeliers and the light strip and reach for our sunglasses. Dimmers essential. It's a celebration. I go to bed tired but happy.
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