Saturday, February 11, 2012
The Alcohol-Free "Drunken" Phone Call
Carri and I used to love our drunken" phone calls. Didn't mean we had to actually be inebriated. Just meant that we had shed all inhibitions and opened ourselves up to whatever was going on in the moment. S
Friday, February 10, 2012
House Of Dreams
980 square feet. 3 bedrooms. 1 and 1/4 bathrooms. Drafty old windows. Floors that slope so much you'd better hope your peas don't miss your mouth. Leaky pipes. Mildew in the popcorn ceilings. Only half the outlets work. Mosquitos so thick in the summertime we should probably get a malaria vaccination.
This is my House of Dreams?
We moved in ten years ago. A three year starter home, we told ourselves. So, we painted. We wallpapered. We ripped up carpets and laid down floors. We enthusiastically replaced appliances and installed new countertops. We planted flower bulbs in the spring and mowed the lawn gleefully with the shiny red lawn tractor. We transplanted rosebushes and turned ourselves into bright red lobsters. We sweated. We stayed up late at night and went to work at our dayjobs worn out but happy with the progress that would someday soon lead us to being able to buy the perfect home.
No matter how much work we did it never seemed to be finished. Some new problem aqlways popped up. One thing would get fixed and something else would break.
This is our House of Dreams?
When the babies started coming (yes, somewhere in the middle of the break-downs and fix-ups we somehow managed to find time to make babies) the house had to take a backseat. There, it has pretty much stayed for the last seven years. These days the only things that get fixed are the things that are essential-water, refrigeration, air-conditioning, heat, cooktop. My kitchen cabinets still have no doors hanging on them (they're painted but I can't figure out how to attach the fancy-schmancy hardware I talked my husband into buying almost two years ago.) The dishwasher's been kaput for two months now. The paint on the living room walls is covered in permanent marker because SOMEONE (yours truly) left her Sharpie on the desk when she went to answer the phone a year ago. The humidity in the bathroom has caused the wallpaper to peel and the paint to crack. The water damage a couple years ago meant we had to replace the whole floor, new joists and everything...everything, that is, except flooring. No tile, no laminate, no anything but the wood that separates us from the earthen ground about three feet down. (We did that repair about a year ago, too, but with all the splashing the kids do the floor is already in need of re-replacing. I'm thinking I might actually pick up the tile this time.)
This is my House of Dreams?
Yes, actually, it is.
This is where my married life began. All those projects- my new husband and I worked together, side by side beaming and dreaming. It was us carving out our own little corner of the world.
This is where my children were conceived...where they came home from the hospital to. This is the only home they have ever known and there's a great sense of stability and security that comes from having had only one Home.
This is where the sound of laughter has outlasted any temper-tantrums, where stories have been read, pictures drawn, where the charming pitter-patter of tiny feet has slowly evolved into the stampede of a herd of elephants on a Saturday morning race down our one tiny hallway.
This Is my House of Dreams.
I still dream about a big house with at least two full bathrooms where no one will walk in on me to ask me where their shoes are. I still dream of lots of insulated windows where the sunlight shines into every room. I still dream of having my own floor to ceiling library room with a fireplace and giant window seat. But more than all those things, I dream of many rooms that are filled with visiting grandchildren, children and friends. I dream of waking up on a Sunday before church to cook a breakfast for twenty and hearing my son say the Blessing where he impishly still says, as he did as a child, "And God Bless The Cook!"
But all that can happen in this house too. Some might have to eat their Sunday breakfast standing up. We might have to put wall to wall air mattresses down for all our visitors. Some might have to sleep feet-to-face. We'll probably have to draw straws for the bathroom.
No matter the size and specs of it, as long as it is full of loved ones, it will be our House of Dreams. Where dreams have been born, where dreams have grown, where dreams have come true....
This is my House of Dreams?
We moved in ten years ago. A three year starter home, we told ourselves. So, we painted. We wallpapered. We ripped up carpets and laid down floors. We enthusiastically replaced appliances and installed new countertops. We planted flower bulbs in the spring and mowed the lawn gleefully with the shiny red lawn tractor. We transplanted rosebushes and turned ourselves into bright red lobsters. We sweated. We stayed up late at night and went to work at our dayjobs worn out but happy with the progress that would someday soon lead us to being able to buy the perfect home.
No matter how much work we did it never seemed to be finished. Some new problem aqlways popped up. One thing would get fixed and something else would break.
This is our House of Dreams?
When the babies started coming (yes, somewhere in the middle of the break-downs and fix-ups we somehow managed to find time to make babies) the house had to take a backseat. There, it has pretty much stayed for the last seven years. These days the only things that get fixed are the things that are essential-water, refrigeration, air-conditioning, heat, cooktop. My kitchen cabinets still have no doors hanging on them (they're painted but I can't figure out how to attach the fancy-schmancy hardware I talked my husband into buying almost two years ago.) The dishwasher's been kaput for two months now. The paint on the living room walls is covered in permanent marker because SOMEONE (yours truly) left her Sharpie on the desk when she went to answer the phone a year ago. The humidity in the bathroom has caused the wallpaper to peel and the paint to crack. The water damage a couple years ago meant we had to replace the whole floor, new joists and everything...everything, that is, except flooring. No tile, no laminate, no anything but the wood that separates us from the earthen ground about three feet down. (We did that repair about a year ago, too, but with all the splashing the kids do the floor is already in need of re-replacing. I'm thinking I might actually pick up the tile this time.)
This is my House of Dreams?
Yes, actually, it is.
This is where my married life began. All those projects- my new husband and I worked together, side by side beaming and dreaming. It was us carving out our own little corner of the world.
This is where my children were conceived...where they came home from the hospital to. This is the only home they have ever known and there's a great sense of stability and security that comes from having had only one Home.
This is where the sound of laughter has outlasted any temper-tantrums, where stories have been read, pictures drawn, where the charming pitter-patter of tiny feet has slowly evolved into the stampede of a herd of elephants on a Saturday morning race down our one tiny hallway.
This Is my House of Dreams.
I still dream about a big house with at least two full bathrooms where no one will walk in on me to ask me where their shoes are. I still dream of lots of insulated windows where the sunlight shines into every room. I still dream of having my own floor to ceiling library room with a fireplace and giant window seat. But more than all those things, I dream of many rooms that are filled with visiting grandchildren, children and friends. I dream of waking up on a Sunday before church to cook a breakfast for twenty and hearing my son say the Blessing where he impishly still says, as he did as a child, "And God Bless The Cook!"
But all that can happen in this house too. Some might have to eat their Sunday breakfast standing up. We might have to put wall to wall air mattresses down for all our visitors. Some might have to sleep feet-to-face. We'll probably have to draw straws for the bathroom.
No matter the size and specs of it, as long as it is full of loved ones, it will be our House of Dreams. Where dreams have been born, where dreams have grown, where dreams have come true....
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