Wednesday, July 30, 2014

The first renovation

I ascribe to the idea of a home participating in the great memories and milestones of life: births, baptisms, communions, graduations, promotions, and engagements. A home is a place to remember and celebrate life's offerings. It's a place to grieve and struggle with what life takes from us. It's a place to play, learn, love, and grow under a protective roof that brings all your precious family members together each night.

And so I've always been drawn to the neglected fixer upper that I can pour my soul into. I always end up buying the home that can somehow change, laugh, cry and improve right along with me and my family. 

My new home falls into that category. It yawned at potential buyers as they toured. Its jammed windows, peeling paint, unsettled porch flooring, and funky layout deterred busy buyers who didn't want to put time and effort into it. Its master bath came with such an outrageous tub/shower that most didn't want to dip a toe into it: 
My shower, built in 1920, has a 2 foot hole in it. Why?

But this old home and its demands for attention did not frighten me.  I knew it had good bones, and though it might not be my forever house, I would live in the moment and love it as I did the others I've lived in. 

This week we completed our first project. It was small: undoing a bad renovation that left three doors opening up in the same 4 square feet of space. We knocked down a partial wall and moved two doors.

Today the house feels more open. The flow feels right. The house is exhaling, and so am I. It's a good start to a new chapter in life, one that I hope will have many pages.

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