When company is coming, I start to really look around my little bungalow.  Really looking around means putting on my glasses and taking a close look.  Usually I’m in a happy cloud when in my historic home and  feeling grateful to live here surrounded by endless memories and a long fascinating history. The house is full of light that warms the lathe and plaster walls and the honied wood floors.  Memories of my children growing up and reaching milestones, celebrations, parties, having my parents over for dinner and to play games and relationships started and ended all live here.  I also think of how I came to the love this home and what a labor of love it became.  When I’m in my home, I’m reminded of the community of preservationists and members spent countless hours working on the preservation of my home and actually coming over to help me with repairs.  Spending time discussing subjects like double hung windows and how to properly size and  frame an antique  door. 

 

It’s fall now and we are headed into Winter in Southern California.  It’s been a hot Fall and the days really don’t cool off until early morning hours.  But today the clouds came in with the faint promise of rain and still have not spilled their contents.  So, I’m working on small repairs. I’ve got my 3/8″ power SKIL drill out, drill bits, a pair of needle nose pliers and working on securing screens.  It’s basic and fun, but requires concentration if it’s going to come out right. I’ve learn over the past 18 years that building and repairing requires precision and focus or it comes out all wrong.  Your time is wasted and it just doesn’t work. 

I love the work of it because it reminds me of times when I was growing up and my Dad always included us in his building projects. My parents bought an old home in the country that we restored while we lived there. We added on rooms, decks, bathrooms and restored the interior.  We worked on it ever weekend that we didn’t go camping.We would start after breakfast and each of us would have an assignment.  I usually just stood by to fetch things, but sometimes I would get hammer nails or work the electric saw. So, when I bought my own house, it was amazing to be the one in control and to figure out how I would fix things.  I bought tools and learned how to use them. I have to admit I’ve never been completely comfortable with power tools, but I learned how to use them safely.

I was fortunate because so many wonderful people that loved working on old houses offered to help me.  First and most importantly my parents and then siblings their husbands and then friends and colleagues.  The work was sometimes hot and difficult.  So Cal is hot most times of the years, when you are working on a house you end up outside quite a bit.  Just to turn off power and water, go to your shed to retrieve materials, things like that. Even though it was hot and I felt like a mess in a sweaty shirt and jeans and sweat running into my shoes, It feel good.  Often I found my arms, face and hair speckled with paint and my clothes grimy from all the crawling and digging around. I would go to bed, feeling stiff, but completely satisfied that I was accomplishing with the help of family and friends, something awesome and beautiful. The next morning you always wake up sore, but after you have some coffee and move around a bit, your body relaxes and sets itself right again.  

The work of restoring an old home is difficult, time consuming and many times frustrating, but that isn’t what this post is about.  More importantly, what restoring and old home is teamwork, community, camaraderie, fun, laughter, sharing lives and that’s what the work creates. For anyone who has worked with their hands, they now that making things and doing things by hand brings a sense of accomplishment that is so organic, it’s hard to really distinguish it as work.  

There’s alot of complaining too, but that’s the conversation and within those conversation are found antidotes and knowledge that is often not found in manuals or books.  

This introduction into restoring old homes, was an introduction into the slow life for me.  I learned about living in the moment and savoring it. To be conscious and mindful of what I was doing so the end result would be embed with a halo of pure intentions and love.  It’s been a journey,  because as human kind we tend to resist changes like these.  We have to learn to be confident and accepting of both are abilities and weaknesses.  We are compelled to accept the moment and live deeply within it.