Just nine months ago, we were in the swimming pool at the JW Marriott in Austin, Texas at about the halfway point of our first cross-country drive from Oregon to Florida.¬†While enjoying the sunshine, we were mentally measuring the dimentions of the pool we were building behind our new home. It struck me this morning as I was swimming in it how much has transpired in that timeframe. On that long drive we could only picture what our house would look like and stopped by the design studio and pool supply stores in Sarasota to put the finishing touches on our plan. My wife spent hours selecting floor tile, countertops, cabinet styles, door handles, and paint. We went together to lay out the pool features that we wanted including a shallow sunning level, bench, and waterfall. It has all now finally come together, but it’s still missing one important element – our frickin’ furniture.

We had another tense phone call with the movers yesterday. On a humorous note, at one point he mentioned that there was a bad echo. We shot back that this was because our house was empty and they were not being responsive. Apparently, our furniture is now in the hands of a third party, so we have no idea where it is. This is unacceptable in a world of tracking devices. They should be able to tell us exactly where it is, provide an anticipated delivery schedule, and notify us if there’s another delay. None of this is happening. Instead, it’s now over thirty days overdue and forty-five days since it was originally loaded. Since then, it’s been unpacked, stored in a warehouse, and reloaded on another truck. It will then apparently be delivered to a warehouse in our area and unloaded again. All this inefficiency makes us wonder how much damage there will be when it finally arrives.

In the meantime, we’ve added a few rugs to absorb some of the cavernous echo, had our floor grout sealed, and contracted for the kitchen backsplash. The only area of normalcy is the lanai and pool area where I can enjoy a peaceful morning swim after my run. The water is a bit cold, especially after yesterday’s surprise rain shower, and our schnauzer Tally is afraid of the giant inflatable unicorn that my wife supposedly bought for the grandkids – but really for her. Two sunning lounges sit on the shallow platform at the end of the pool, just as we envisioned in our pool dreams back in Austin.