8:30 start. Come by and watch if you like.
Twenty years is a long relationship to have with a single house. And it hasn't always been a civil one. Whenever asked what I wanted for Christmas, my most frequent reply was, "A bulldozer."
The other day Popeye was wondering aloud if maybe he could get the demo crew to let me drive the bulldozer - just for the first pass through the old kitchen. As always, I am truly impressed by his thoughtfulness.
But the thought - the reality - of the old house coming down after all these years... somehow I don't feel the elation that I thought I would. In fact, I feel more like I have signed someones death warrant.
We have all the same old stuff in the rental townhouse that we had in the house. The same couch, the same rug. The same old Christmas tree we've had since the last time in a rental townhouse, when the Chick was five. Why does it all seem newer here?
Maybe it's the high ceiling, or the floor that's not ancient terrazzo, that doesn't look as if it were speckled with little brown roaches. Maybe it's the kitchen with the oven that doesn't run 50 degrees too hot. Maybe it's the lack of a thirty foot hallway to get to a bathroom. Or the fact that the whole place is not trying to slowly slide downhill into a lake.
I need to remember it's not the house that made Christmas or any part of life easy, hard, good, or bad. (Although stepping out of bed to an inch or two of water on the floor, or finding that the wall had moved three inches overnight, did make it a bit trying sometimes.)
It's just a house, only a structure. And not a very good structure at that. I remind myself that there's no reason for emotion, nostalgia, or vindictiveness.
I appreciate how lucky I am that I get an opportunity to set right the wrongs - within budget, of course. To make our lives, not worse or better, but more carefree and much less annoying.
In this world of litigation anxiety, I doubt I'll get to drive the bulldozer tomorrow. But it won't be the disappointment it might once have been.
House on Shepard Lake
1959 - 2011
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Nice post, Vicky. Reminds me of my parents house, where I grew up. Not that it was demolished, but selling it was rather sad. It wasn't the greatest house either - small and only one bathroom. I'll always have my memories of it though, and I can choose to only think about the good ones. :) -Amy
ReplyDeleteDriving a bulldozer definitely isn't like driving a regular car and you might need the assistance of an expert to be able to operate this correctly.
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