Confessions
More than once over the last three years, I have really, REALLY wanted to ditch this house.
There. I said it. It's off my chest and I'm relieved. I have daydreamed about leaving the door unlocked with a sign on it that says, "Help yourself" and taking the first flight out of O'Hare to...I didn't care where. Somewhere far away where I could rent an apartment or, better yet, sleep on a beach and work as a waitress and never pick up a power tool again. This has happened more often than I've let on. And regret is a nasty roommate at 3:00 a.m.
So...a few nights ago when I climbed the stairs to the second floor, I surprised myself when I actually had WARM feelings towards the house. For you see, working on the house was not my first choice. It was a means to an end. The location was the thing, along with the ceiling height. To raise a child near family. We didn't relish the thought of strapping ourselves to mountains of restoration/renovation. But, the house was more affordable than our options and in the right place. There have been times when I have (whispers) HATED THIS HOUSE. Which is why I am amazed that I am warming up to it so much now.
So there it is...I am not the virtuous, self-sacrificing home renovator that Mr. Metcalf referred to in his article. I re-read it after this recap in the Rage Diaries and was deeply ashamed. I've had many reservations about this project. I want to love this house and, until this week, really didn't feel like I did. I was resigned to it. But I wasn't in love with it.
At the top of the stairs, I walked through the dark rooms to look out of the front window at the snow and the moon.
Having to psyche ourselves up for the next phase of work is daunting. Because, instead of an unused area of the house being closed off, some pretty critical rooms will need to shut down. Which will reduce the amount of space we are living in considerably. And then the dirt and dust will come. And the noise. And the heavy lifting. And finding additional things that are wrong. And coming up with the funds since we try to raise money for work before we start. And...oh. Eek. Do we really want to plunge back into that again? Do I have the "moral chops", as Lisa S. puts it? I'm afraid I don't.
But, this one room is a haven. It feels comfortable in here for the first time since I walked through the front door. And, for someone who lives for closure, it has taken an excrutiatingly long time to get to this point. Almost three years. I feel like hiding underneath this bed instead of getting into it. I'm a DIY coward. I've lived in the construction zone and I don't relish going back.
After I slide under the covers and keep the shades open. I look out at the trees. I can finally feel what I was already able to see...that this work can lead to rewards. That the sweat and pain can be worth it. Eventually. We've reached a big milestone and there are more obstacles ahead, but there is quite a bit behind us. Gotta keep slogging on. Reluctantly but we can't go back now.
Hang in there, fellow old house people. I wish you a warm bed and a lovely view.
Looking for More?
| Search for more on 'home improvement motivation' on this site. |
| Search for 'home improvement motivation' on on other houseblogs like this one. |
| Search for 'home improvement motivation' on Google. |
| Search for 'home improvement motivation' on Amazon.com. |
Cabinet Refacing:
Face Your Kitchen | Your Guide to Kitchen Cabinet Refacing |
Comments
quitcherbellyachingandgettowork.
You won't find that in the dictionary.
POPS --30--
Posted by: POPS | March 9, 2006 4:23 PM
Very well said, much appreciated, and completely understood by this fellow "old houser."
Entering our sixth (and hopefully final) year, with 3 children (the youngest of which has only known of a torn up house) I sometimes wonder if it will be worth it...And then there are moments like you describe...and you get a glimpse of what you saw in the old place so long ago--and you think: "It will be great!"
Keep it up and may you have your just reward.
Patrick
Posted by: Patrick | March 9, 2006 4:53 PM
Gasp! Say it's not so! Tell me you didn't mean any of it!
Honestly, I think everyone has those moments. For me it's, "I could be in LA in a condo with no giant, daunting task ahead of me". Then I think, "Ugh! I could be in LA living in a condo". I'll take this life any day of the week. It is nice to finally see some real progress after a lot of hard work, though. I know that feeling. I'm glad you're warming up to the place.
Posted by: Greg | March 9, 2006 6:26 PM
I think I could have written this post! But I realized a few months back that I really don't want to fall in love with this house! Appreciate it, find comfort in it, realize the blessing in it....yes. Fall in love with it so it can one day break my heart...mmmm, I don't think so.
Loved this post!!
Posted by: Maria | March 10, 2006 4:33 AM
I feel your pain old house comrade.
We are in the midst of making a mudroom in the back of our 1899 house. We're at the stage of putting up the drywall and just dragging our feet. We've done this many times before in this house, but right now we're just tired of it. We keep thinking about the end result which will be fabulous. It's the grunt work that puts you down.
I find playing fun and funky music helps the mood.
Keep at it. It is all worth it in the end!
Posted by: Lee Ann | March 10, 2006 8:32 AM
Yeah, I've been there.
I'm a little there right now. I'm refinancing soon for the massive construction, and as I walk upstairs I see the granules of plaster that have fallen since last night, and hear them grind beneath my feet before I get to the bedroom, where there's no plaster dust, but the painted floor slopes preacariously down toward the corner whose foundation must be rebuilt... and I imagine taking the equity that I've built up in this crazy market and just plowing it into a drywall box condo where all the windows work.
But I think of my laundry chute.
And the bathroom, with its seperate toilet room and roll-in shower.
Solid vertical grain carbonized bamboo floors.
And getting to work in the yard once the regrading's done.
The cantileverd roof over the deck.
A new (Simpson) front door.
The living room built-in, and my own shop to build it in.
I think of me in that condo while some speculator bulldozes this 1912 cottage and all its problems so he can put up a McMansion.
And I sleep soundly.
Posted by: Nathan | March 10, 2006 12:55 PM
Your comments about finally loving one part of the house are timely and heartfelt. But taking a long view--you may bond with other parts of the house as your child grows up in it.
We have been in the SLOW process of renovating a central Illinois farmhouse for 15 years now. My 16 year old son is resigned to the fact that we won't be done before he leaves for college; my 12 year old daughter's room includes wall sections where the fiberglass insulation and studs are showing. Sometimes I get to feeling really guilty about that, and the fact that my kids have grown up in such a topsy-turvy house.
But just this morning, my daughter, who was cuddled in her bed with a good book, looked up and said to me "I love my room" . . . " When I asked her what she likes about it she said: the birds she can see from the window; the view of the soybean fields; and the secure feeling she has when she is there.
So, I pushed my guilt aside and realized that she understood the true meaning of home. New or old, half-renovated or a showpiece, it doesn't hold a candle to what goes on inside your hearts.
Posted by: Adelaide Aime | March 11, 2006 7:19 PM
Y'all, please! You certainly do have what it takes -- your entire site is a testament to renovating the right way. (I think of you as the "anti-GUTTED" folks) What's more, you're adding greater moral/ethical meaning to your remodeling by sharing your journey with us, in a way that's both informative and entertaining. You've made an impact on other people in a positive way.
I have obviously had houses and character on the brain, as dealing with the post-diluvial repairs and renovation has forced me to take stock of myself along with my house. I'm only six months into fixer-upper ownership, but I've already had those moments when I fantasize about walking away ... lord only knows what it'll be like when we rip into the kitchen next year!
In any event, you should rest assured: your weblog is a testament to having the moral chops. After all, you're still slogging ahead: the virtue of persevering so that you can honor the values that prodded you to buy the house in the first place.
Posted by: Lisa S. | March 13, 2006 1:10 PM
I think this post exemplifies why I just adored you and your blog on first read. You come across (and I feel sure you are) genuine- the real deal- and that is refreshing.
I think we old-house restorers like real things, tangible results and that's why we like reading each other's blogs too.
I have moments where I worry I'm wasting my life on the house- I could have more fun, I could be writing that novel (I'm trying to work on it), I could be getting married and living in a new condo (barf-sorry) but no, I have to WAIT because I'm not made of $ and can't do it all at once.
I like the P&P comparasin in the NYT because I think that novel was all about character and in rehabbing an old house- one of the by products is an excess of character in the house and it's occupants/worker bees...
Thanks for the thought provoking post. :)
Posted by: Jocelyn | March 13, 2006 7:34 PM
That's a familiar feeling for me as well. You've summed it up perfectly. When people ask if we're having fun, I always say yes - the real answer is so complicated and complex that it's hard to put into words. And no one wants to hear it anyway!
I just wanted to offer up some hope on the space issue.... when we moved my brother in upstairs and essentially cut our living space in half, I thought it was going to be incredibly inconvenient. But we adapted very quickly to our smaller quarters. There are times when I wish I had a closet for my clothes (they're residing in a makeshift wardrobe) or more space to spread out a craft project, but the frustrations are few and far between.
Posted by: mindy | March 14, 2006 7:42 PM