the deep

I thought, "Sure, I'll post updates weekly as we renovate. We can share before and after and during photos and laugh and hang out and chat about our remodel adventure."

That was before, when we had free time and friends. When we cooked at home and vacuumed. When we could find time for movies and reading, laundry and grocery shopping.

Now we're nearly five months in, demolition is over, we've excavated and resealed the foundation (nearly done with backfilling). We're in the midst of wiring outlets and lights. I insulated the water pipes over the weekend, we have a new porch. And we haven't seen our friends in months (not totally literally, but just about literally). One friend even said, "Oh no, you don't understand. You won't see them [meaning us] unless you go to The House to see them." And they're right. We're completely consumed. Every detail needs a decision, a measurement, a product ordered.

There's no time for photos, for updates, for reminiscing or pondering just where that pretty painting will go. There are only decisions and labor. Manual labor. I remember the day I said, "That's the one thing I don't do: Dig." One week later I was covered in dirt, my hands had actual digging callouses, and I had sealing tar in my hair as I sat at the bottom of a 6 foot trench wrapping a footing drain.

Adam told the neighbors as they walked by, "We're building a moat!"

We are exhausted. Working 15+ hours a day, seven days a week, and it has been months now. Everyone (I mean it) says, "Oh, I know, it's hard but it's totally worth it, right?" And we smile and say, "Yes yes yes" whilst growling inside and wondering when the end result will happen. We're not to the "It was hard, but it was totally worth it" zone. It's just hard, and stressful, and we have no idea if what we've conceived as the perfect, adorable, cozy, inviting place will be what we pictured as Home.

But really, we love it. The house will be wonderful. It will be ours, exactly as we designed it after 37+ floor plans and countless revisions and questions.

This took me two days to write, and I'm sorry but there are no photos of the house. Just a photo of us in Scotland in August, when we had a full week to ourselves poking around in castles. Before we were in so deep. Before I became a champion digger. Or at least before I picked up a shovel.

even when

Sometimes it's hard to be cute. Not everyone has the ability to say things that are totally delightful or can walk around blinking like a baby owl (as you know: the epitome of cuteness). I like the ones who surprise you and catch you off guard. Like the little guy in the middle on the far right. He's pretty cute. And oops! Looks totally surprised; just trying to look like a Panda.

I am not cute today. I woke up before Mister Important made the Earth (like, very early) and didn't bother to shower. I did shower last night, but that only meant my hair looked nice before I went to bed. Once I slept on it (partially wet as it was) it looked a little awkward.

We have a mirror by the door to our office and it's job is pretty simple: To mock you each time you walk by and make snide remarks like, "Oh, what, woke up early today?" And, "You look tired."

Which, by the way, is a terrible thing to say to somebody. I try and pre-empt it with over-zealous protective commentaries about myself looking tired. "I know, I look totally awful. " Or, "Ugh, I feel like a zombie, and probably look like one, too." It's not like I'm fishing for compliments or that I have a low self esteem. I just don't want someone to tell me I look tired. Even when I look really really tired.

what the world is made of

Here are some words from a mother who's teenage daughter had a major stroke recently. I keep reading them with awe at her sense of gratefulness in response to something that most of us would tremble to even think about. If I can take anything from this, it is the aspiration to step into life with this sense of grace and appreciation. As a wise friend said, "The greatest part of our happiness depends on our dispositions, not our circumstances."

I wish I could spin my moments of unhappiness into something so beautiful. The least I can do is wonder at a mother who is watching her child relearn everything she once knew, from language to walking and hopefully one day to singing and dancing. The most I can do is learn to reframe the not-so-special times into something I can learn from, and hopefully look upon those times as a gift. If not, there's always a chance to laugh at my own silliness.

"Between watching this beautiful and amazing creature courageously rebuild her body and her vocabulary, and these people I have called my best friends for decades move heaven and earth to help her, I am quite overcome most of the day, everyday. I feel as if someone said, "Sit. Watch. This is what the world is really made of. There's more beauty and love and joy here than you could possibly imagine. Remember this and nothing that could ever happen will shake you again." I am forever changed."
                                              -m.b.q.




[photo courtesy of lavender and dash]

floor plans

It's not every day you look around at 20 houses or so and pick the one that is not inhabitable. It may have a huge yard and loads of potential, it may even have a garage and a full basement. But it does not have safe floors, there are pieces missing, and there is rot. Also, someone decided it would be fun to see how much water a basement can hold.

Truth be told, this isn't our first rodeo. We've successfully moved into two old, dirty, paint-flaky, stinky houses that had lots of potential that we were willing to paint, clean, deodorize and live in. And we did paint, clean, deodorize and live in them, and they turned out great. Nice, even. We just haven't bought one before.

As it turns out we kinda like this sort of thing, and here we are on the verge of something a little bit crazy. We have no idea (really) what we're getting ourselves into. Neither one of us are carpenters (or plumbers or smithies or window replacers or basement fixer-uppers). We've never sanded our own wood floors or tried to replace a door frame. We've painted (a lot) and we have drawn up 37+ floor plans and even created them in SolidWorks in 3D. We've studied hundreds of kitchens and bathrooms and asked questions and put the kitchen where the bathroom is and the bedroom where the other bedroom was.

And we've signed papers. Lots and lots of papers. And it's nearly ours (but not quite yet).

You know what that means: You're about to the join the adventure, too. Because I have a feeling I won't be able to hold back when I get oh-so-excited about finding a salvaged glass door knob to fit the pint-size door upstairs, and I know I'll probably go hog-wild when things get too crazy and the total bill is waaaay more than we expected (it always is).

But  it's nearly ours.

And we have help.




Pretty kitchen photo courtesy of House Beautiful, the others: that's what we're working with. yep. There is the before.... and the wishes for the after.

Shiny

I am distracted by these sparkles that are dancing around on the keyboard as I type. Lovely and perfect, they embody a million different thoughts and emotions that bounce against each other like spheres of rubber (aka bouncy balls) when I look at it. It's fancy. It's old. It's antique, created by some talented craftsman in 1925. I'll never know the story, but I can tell you mine.

We went hiking over a river and through the woods to a Lake. The weather was amazing for May, and I started calling Pup "The Lone Ranger" as he darted out ahead on the trail and disappeared and then darted back to check on us. He was leaping over streams and we were sort of slipping and jumping after him. I wouldn't describe my moves as graceful, but we were having a blast and the day was full of jokes and laughter and admiration for the beautiful woods, the blue sky, and the brief glimpses of a glassy lake through the trees.

It was a bit farther than we had expected, and I have a little blister to prove it. (Far is not so bad when you're with someone wonderful and the day is beautiful and the Pup is happy.)

Once we arrived at the Lake, (it was a perfect reflection of the snowy mountains), we sat and were sweet to each other. We talked of our new house, and how stressed out we've been and how we don't want to do that anymore (stress, I mean). We held hands and talked about our future, about the plans for the house, and building a Home. He said he loved me, and he wanted to grow old with me, and then he knelt down...

This is where you're thinking: Oh my goodness!! He's going to propose!! And I have to tell you that I was not thinking this. I was noticing his hand in his pocket, and I was thinking, "Oh, no. He's trying to cup those snotty tissues I gave him away from his leg." (I'd had a bit of a runny nose on our hike and had nowhere to put them so I had handed them over.) I was feeling bad about the tissues, and overjoyed at his sweetness and caught off guard by this talk of that far-off future of growing old together. 

But he did propose. He knelt down in the rocks and the drift wood and said that he loved me and would I marry him? I said, "Are you serious?" and could not for the life of me figure out what was going on. After three years of anticipating this very moment (we've been dating for six) I had boasted that I would definitely know when this was coming and there was no way he'd surprise me.

But he did.

He surprised me on a day which was perfect from beginning to end. He had waited for weeks for the perfect moment, he had asked my parents for their blessing months ago. We hiked back, we sipped wine, we discussed a someday wedding, and he told me what my Papa had said, and what my Mum had said. He looked at me with such love in his eyes, and I felt such joy. 

Do you need to know what comes next? Do I? My cheeks hurt from smiling. My heart is full. I think that's enough.

all the things

Perhaps you've heard of this thing called Pinterest? As someone who gathers photos of all sorts of things (art, fashion, shoes, sparkles, wedding ideas, party cakes... the list goes on and on) and who used to add those photos to random files on my computer, this site is like a giant inspiration board.

I love being able to scroll through friends' and strangers' boards, and you can even "pin" other people's pretties to your own unique board. I highly recommend it, if you are a saver of images as I am.

And yes, you're already in danger if you are even considering it. It took me a few months of urging before I tried it.

And then I pinned all the things.

walter

Today is for silliness and ridicule of the kinds of silliness that we just don't like. That means I have a rant in my head but I'm going to leave it at that and move on to Gotye:

Great music, interesting lyrics, and I like his music video (see below). I also saw him live-ish on Saturday Night Live and thought he was damn good for being on a tiny stage on a late night comedy show. His new album 'Making Mirrors' is out now, and if you want to know a little more go here. For some more: fun details.

Now that we've covered Gotye/Gaultier/Wouter/Walter, let me say just a little something about people who are condescending or who question your integrity and treat you as a young thoughtless person (when you clearly are not). Surprisingly, I am not speaking about anyone's treatment of myself, but treatment of another. It can be more irritating sometimes.

I suppose life would not be nearly as interesting without thoughtless people who have no skills in the "how to treat others" department. And so I pose the question: Who doesn't know the Golden Rules?

I'm pretty sure I can sum them up quickly; I've known them for a long time. I think most everyone should know them by about the time they, oh, learn to stick a fork in their own mouth without poking an eye out. Difficult, yes. Impossible, no.

Because you asked, and because I am more than prepared to share, here are the Golden Rules as I understand them:

Share when you're in the sand box, don't throw toys at other kids' heads, and don't pee on people.

It's pretty straightforward.

photos courtesy of soundslikerl