In my last blog (click here to read), I shared about our experience crossing the border into our new home province, and how thinking outside the box was essential in successfully completing the legal and financial aspects of purchasing our new home in the midst of a pandemic. 

The movers—the same ones who packed our little house on the Prairies—were already at our new home by the time we arrived on site to officially move in. 

My first impression was that the house seemed larger and grander than it appeared in the photos. As I stepped onto the veranda, I couldn’t help noticing that it was big enough to host a COVID-friendly open-air concert.



As I extended the key to unlock our home for the very first time, I took a deep breath and paused to say a silent prayer. 

I opened the door to see the main floor looking just like what we’d seen in the photos and on FaceTime with our realtor. As I wandered around, I was delighted to see the gorgeous French doors, big windows in the front and dining rooms, the white kitchen, the lovely hardwood flooring, and the built-ins flanking the fireplace in the family room. Back at the front entrance, I was tickled pink to see the little room just to the left of the small foyer that I had pegged for a media room or possibly a little storefront to showcase my books, photography, and arts and crafts pending researching the local zoning bylaws. 


I turned my attention to the beautifully constructed staircase, which faced the front door. It looked a little intimidating—certainly a longer flight of steps than what I had been used to at my old house, which was a four-level split. Nonetheless, I was excited to explore upstairs. 

It was on the fifth step on my debut ascent when I felt a twinge in my knee. What in the world? As I continued, my knee got weaker and weaker. I gulped. Apparently after being on the road for eight days, my legs had forgotten to climb stairs. 

It was a harbinger of things to come. As I walked around the upper floor, my initial euphoria started to seep away. While the house certainly had “good bones,” there were many elements upstairs that were outdated, and the walls, trim, windows, window coverings, and doors clearly lacked TLC. 

I was disappointed, as my husband and I were adamant that we didn’t want a fixer-upper after doing extensive renovations at our previous home. Even in my first brief glimpse it was clear that a lot of work needed to be done. 

For the next few days, my knee gave me grief whenever I climbed the stairs, to the point that I couldn’t put any weight on it. Coupled with my disappointment with the upper floor of the house, I started to wonder what we had gotten ourselves into. 

Little did I know that a knee injury and disappointment about the state of the upstairs level would be the least of our worries as our self-isolation presented challenges that stretched us beyond our limits.

Click here to read the next instalment of "Prairie Girl Goes Coastal."

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