After seven weeks, I live at my house again. Hooray!
It's actually been livable for a couple weeks, but we had to choose the right timing to reacculturate the cat. Even so, she spent four hours yesterday pouting under the porch, where she felt safe.
One of the many perks of living in Boulder is that I can evacuate to my parents house for a month and a half. They've got a spare master bedroom, lots of tasty teas and nuts, and an endless supply of conversation. They're also half a block from a bus stop and in biking distance of all of Boulder, which is nice when your car's stuck on the side of a canyon.
It's nice to be back, though. The Internet is faster. There's a hammock on the front porch (and it's still super sunny in November). I can listen to the punk music show at loud volume without my dad giving me a funny look. We can walk around naked and fondle each other. Rather than setting aside a weekend day to drive up to the house and rearrange things (which got moved to make way for carpet), do a little work, goof around, do a little work, make out... On the plus side, my room is way more organized than it was this summer... or indeed last summer.
I'm not sure if we'll host a games day this month. We can have a welcome living room and a clear table, but it's still a one-lane road at the bottom of the driveway. I'll see how it holds up to rain and snow. The county says the contractors should have it done by the end of December–hopefully we don't get a big dump earlier.