Six weeks after the verdict, we move into the farmhouse on a Wednesday.
Not because Wednesday is special. Because that's when the keys are ready and the utilities are connected and the moving company has an opening and life does not wait for symbolically appropriate days. That's one of the things nobody tells you about building something real. It happens on Wednesdays. On ordinary unremarkable mornings when the coffee is bad and Hope has oatmeal in her hair and Lily is expressing opinions about car seats.
The farmhouse is exactly what it looked like in the listing photograph and completely different at the same time.
