15. The Work Before…

I know… ANOTHER post about the work? Well, yeah, ‘cuz there’s a lot of it! When people imagine moving to Portugal, they picture cafés, ocean air, and slow mornings. They don’t picture mold remediation (I mean, who does?), GFCI outlets, or driving back and forth to Home Depot five times in one day.

But this chapter of our LifeTrek?
It’s happening in crawl spaces, garages, and 1970s wiring.

We own two houses. One was my wife’s before we were married. Over the years, we rented out rooms, and her parents lived there as well. This past year, we let the renters know we’d be selling, and everyone moved out. What followed was months of real, physical work.

I tore off a rotting deck and replaced it with a concrete patio.
We installed new flooring.
Painted everything.
Replaced fixtures.
Fixed fencing.
Cleaned and cleaned and cleaned.
Did yardwork.
Fixed what had been ignored for years.

Four days after listing the house, we had an offer.

That felt like a win — and it was — but the work didn’t stop there.

While that sale moved forward, I turned to our primary residence to prep it for market. Repairs, cleaning, decluttering (my wife gets most of the kudos for this work) — all while knowing that nearly everything we own is eventually going away. We’re not shipping containers to Portugal. We’re taking a few suitcases.

Which meant something hard (at least to me): I sold all my tools.

Immediately after that, the buyer’s inspection report came back from our rental house.

Eleven items.
Electrical. Plumbing. Mold. Fireplace. Crawl space. Sewer line….
All on a house built in the 1970s and long owned by someone (before we were married) doing the best she could with limited money and no construction background.

None of it was shocking — but some of it was daunting.

One item alone came in with an initial estimate of $6,000. The chimney. We went from a cleaning and a new cap, to having to do masonry work on it. Oh, joy.

Today was a perfect snapshot of what this season looks like.

I woke up early to make sure our primary house stayed pristine for an open house (because, of course, we’re selling them both at the same time). My wife followed behind me cleaning again after I left. Then I drove an hour to the rental house and spent the day problem-solving.

I made five separate trips to Home Depot.
Bought GFCI outlets and coverplates.
Then spacers.
Then caulking.
Then borrowed a drill from a neighbor because I’d already sold mine.
Then went back out to buy a masonry bit.

Every task uncovered three smaller ones. That’s how this works.

Somewhere in the middle of all that, at 9:23 a.m., I was on the phone with a gentleman in London — coordinating the transfer of money into our newly opened Portuguese bank account.

This is what preparing for a big life change actually looks like.

In the same week we were:

• Getting FBI background checks

• Deciding when to start renting a house in Portugal we won’t live in for months

• Managing inspections, contractors, finances, and logistics

And yet — we aren’t daunted.

Not because it’s easy.
But because we’re committed.

There are physical challenges, financial stress, emotional fatigue, social angst, family dynamics, etc...

This takes endurance.

More importantly, it takes partnership.

I won’t pretend this season is stress-free. It isn’t. But my wife and I don’t take it out on each other. When things pile up, we pause. We hug it out. We plan. We try again. We’re a team — and that makes all the difference.

Just today, my mother told me something somewhat significant. She and my stepfather were talking between themselves about couples they know — the ones who are truly solid, who clearly love each other and can weather life together.

She said my wife and I made that short list.

I already knew that about my wife and I but, it still matters to hear.

We haven’t moved to Portugal yet. The dream isn’t realized. The café mornings are still ahead of us. Right now, it’s concrete dust and inspection reports.

But if you’re standing where we are — staring at the work instead of the destination — I want you to know this:

All the preparatory work is hard.
I still believe it is worth it.
I still believe it is possible.

One trip to Home Depot at a time.

We’ll keep sharing the journey.