Burlap & Satin

Guess what? I'm still sick. Yes, you envy me. I know this, don't deny it. My right lymph node is slightly smaller than a golf ball, the coughing continues, the throat is still sore, the fatigue rages, the tissues continue to dwindle.

Having asthma in a house full of remodeling dust, moisture, bacteria and animals... well, it sucks, but it wasn't always this bad. I can't deny that my health has suffered since we moved into this house a year ago. I haven't yet gotten a massive raging asthma flare-up that's left me in the hospital (like I did in our condo), but I do seem to get sick on a smaller scale more often. We knew there was moisture and leaking in the basement when we bought it, but we vowed to fix all that. However, what we did not know was that the beautiful hardwood floor that we thought was just underneath yucky carpet was actually ruined by fire damage and that Monkey Family had also allowed water to come into the walls for years without ever fixing the problem. So guess what? All that moisture we smelled wasn't coming from the basement. It was coming from everywhere. (And don't even get me started on the fact that they never cleaned the jets on their whirlpool bath, so there's years of encrusted mildew on our bathtub jets that refuses to come off.) Believe it or not, with six pets in our house, we've always kept it reasonably clean. But in this house? You'd think we never clean at all.

We've now fixed the water in the walls (we hope) and the floor is up next. Sadly, even after the new sanitary hardwood floor goes in, the ducts are absolutely disgusting and will need cleaned as well. It just feels like ever since we've moved in, we are constantly fighting either 1) moisture or 2) semi-toxic dust. Welcome to the world of the constant remodel. This house wasn't our first choice, but it was the choice that seemed best for us at the time. What I'm learning now is that if you choose to buy a Fixer Upper and you don't absolutely love it? Don't buy it. Because on those days when the ceiling starts to cave in and your walls are suddenly gushing water and the basement floods and all you see are massive road blocks and even more massive dollar signs... well, it's on those days that you really need to still LOVE your house. Because if you don't love it and it becomes a nightmare? You can't get out fast enough.

That's the predicament we're currently in. We know that we will be here for another couple of years and that the improvements we're making to it will (hopefully) pay off, but people often ask us if we would do it again. Our answer simply and immediately is always a firm "No." There were other fixer-upper houses that had more storage, bigger yards, less maintenance, but weren't where we wanted to be. What we're finding now is that those other neighborhoods that we turned down are now looking pretty good. The reason? They would have given us freedom. As it is, our life is this house and this house is our life. Sure, we escape into a few select favorite TV shows, we go out to the movies every now and then, we take the dogs and get out when we can. But we always have to come back here and walk in the front door to whatever new demolition or catastrophe awaits us today. It's a never-ending process, living in a Fixer Upper. It's something I don't know I would do again.

It hasn't been all bad though. We've learned so much about houses and how they work. We've learned that we can do most of the work ourselves and when to hire someone when we can't. We've learned we actually have good ideas and that people actually enjoy seeing the progress we make on our little house near the city. We've learned how to do good work on a crappy house with little money and that there are richer people out there doing a whole lot worse things to perfectly good houses. Also, if we hadn't bought this house when we did, we wouldn't have been able to get Bogey and that makes it all worthwhile to me right there.

Still, we miss having free time. We miss planning vacations and being able to use money for fun things rather than another emergency trip to Lowe's. We miss the days when a project was done after a room was painted, not when the floor is replaced and the drywall is replaced and the carpet replaced, yadda yadda yadda.

Oh, and closets. We really miss the damned closets. Seriously, if you have a nice big closet that you can stand up in and look into without crouching, go hug it. Those things are brilliant.

Hi everyone. We're undergoing a strange process in which we catalog every single item we've owned in our eight years and four residences together, rate each item on a scale of "wantability," put a paltry price on all our memories and offer it to the general public in hopes of justification for extreme capitalism and/or the cleansing of our souls.

Some might call this a "Yard Sale" but that is a title merely decreed by the location of the final event. A more accurate title for this event might be "Stuff We Don't Want but Hope That You Will Sale" or "Yes We Realize It's Old and Crappy But We Hope You Will At Least Deem It Worthy of a Quarter Sale" or the more revealing "We Spent a Month Cleaning This Shit Out of Our Storage Facility, Basement, and Garage and Tagging Every Item Individually So the Least You Can Do Is Peruse and Act Interested For a Few Minutes Without Haggling Me For an Extra Fifteen Cents Off That Old Box of Floppy Disks Please Thank You Sale." Any of these titles would be appropriate, but since the final part of this behavior ritual happens on the front lawn of your dwelling, "Yard Sale" might just be easier to remember and therefore repeat to others when seeking verification or understanding.

It is a labor intensive process often rife with soul searching and the persistent questioning of one's personal spending habits during those lean and misguided formative years. As expected, the more erratic and impractical one's financial sensibilities and the more years that pass, the more labor that is required. Additionally, when there are two people with differing spending habits and differing opinions on each memory's worth, time and labor become exponentially extended.

All of this to tell you that yes, I am still alive and no, I am not selling my X-Files t-shirt. The expensive locket from the evil high school boyfriend though? That can totally go. For a quarter.

-- Pouring out a memory that I held with me a for a long, long time. Not a horribly traumatic memory, but a painful one nonetheless. A memory that hurt more than I ever realized it did. Feeling the surprise when Husband holds me, cries, and says simply, "They should have never done that to you. I'm so sorry you had to go through that." (It always surprises me that every other child didn't live like I did.) Then Husband's laughter through tears when he says, "You broke into your own house just so you could go to your grandfather's funeral. That's awesome." That feeling when I expose a weakness or a fear and he finds it captivating and yet another reason to love me. This is what healing is, this is what a good marriage should feel like.

-- How happy my girl is when she gets to go out and explore nature. How much she grins and loves just being with me, anywhere. How much she loves her momma, how much she lives for the sun.

-- Laying in bed late at night, all is quiet, my head on J.'s chest, feeling that this is life worth living. Feeling like this type of peace doesn't just happen, but that it's worked for and earned with all your heart. Feeling like no matter what happens, this moment will always be pure and sacred. Will always be ours and ours alone.

-- Taking my dad to an old reservoir, watching him throw pieces of his chewing gum in the water and explain the habits of female bass to me. Gearhead, fisherman, humorist, same as always. Here I am at the age of 30, realizing that after all this time, my dad is just a man and I actually like my father.

-- Though I may never have a conversation with my mother when she is truly sober, she is still my mother and her own person and I must acknowledge that. I may always have to apologize for my mother's behavior, I may always receive drunken phone calls at 1am, I may always be put in the role of her "keeper," but I am still me and she is still her own person. It's easy to love someone with faults, but it's hard to maintain civility when that person's faults repeatedly fall upon your shoulders. This is the situation with my mother and I'm slowly (and sadly) realizing that it may always be that way. It cannot come between me and myself however and that is the hardest part, maintaining balance in the presence of unbalanced parents. I can love her though and reflect upon happier times and allow it to just be what it is. I can move and change and grow and become myself without demanding the same of her. It's hard and it's not the way I would want this story to end after 30 years of being inside it, but at least I am allowing the story to continue without knowing or manipulating the ending. That's something big for me indeed.

-- The way Bogey takes me away from all my lists, worries and agendas. The way he shoves a toy in my hand and says, "Here, play." It works.

-- Understanding that even though I quit my job in order to work on the house and even though that work is not nearly on schedule and funds are intermittent at best, it does not mean my hiatus was in vain. My soul has rested, my priorities have shifted, my relationships have become more positive, my goals seem outlined and renewed. I understand now that not contributing money does not mean I am worthless.

-- First giving away of items on Freecycle experience = Oh. My. God. What greedy-ass people we have in the world. What part of "it's already taken and out of my driveway" do you not understand? I don't care that you're on a fixed income and somehow badly "really really need" landscape edging (wtf?) but whatever dude, it's gone and therefore not worth emailing me 100 more times to ask me if I would please consider giving it to you anyway. It is GONE. Like the wind. Capice?

-- Now this is cool. Seriously, how awesome is it that someone wanted to reunite photos with their owners just for the sake of goodness? Rock on.

-- We're leaving for the beach in about a week. That's not as fun as it sounds. The entire trip is for a family reunion and my entire family will be there, griping about everything under the sun and talking over everyone else at top volume while we all wear obnoxious neon t-shirts with our family crest on them and complain about the weather. Should be um... interesting. At least we've rented our own little separate cottage by the water. And yes, we're taking the dogs. I have no idea how they will react to the ocean. I hope it's at least favorable... and that Bogey doesn't try to swallow a crab. Because he would. He seriously would.

-- Since we've never left our cats alone for longer than four days, we decided to hire a professional catsitter while we're gone. The company requires an in-home visit first though in order to learn more about your animals and obtain a key. The information they required was very thorough and extensive. This was both reassuring and odd. By the end of filling out a form for every single animal (5 total), it was hard to tell if we were overprotective pet parents or just downright insane. Observe:

"Jekyll's favorite hiding places: the upstairs closets. Please keep closet doors cracked at all times so she does not become trapped. There is limited air conditioning upstairs too so she may also just be sprawled in the floor panting. The heat doesn't seem to bother her, but you may have to move her downstairs so she doesn't overheat, as she will not do this herself. Also, she might bite."

"Ghost is weary of strangers at first and will not approach you immediately. It is best to let her approach you at her own pace. However, if you wish to play with her, I would recommend the laser pointer and the giant feather toy in order to draw her out of her shell. If the bottom of the food bowls is visible or the litter boxes are not clean, she may pee on the bathroom rug. If so, please just throw it downstairs next to the washer. If she decides to pee on your jacket or bag, this means she likes you. Feel free to use our washer and dryer. Febreze is under the kitchen sink."

"Raven is very social and will most likely greet you immediately. She often tries to escape out the front door and will be waiting closeby ready to sprint once she hears your key. Best to have your foot ready to block her path immediately. Has a habit of jumping from extreme heights when bored and trying to knock over unstable furniture during the night, so please call veterinarian if you should notice any limping or lameness in her legs. Also, if there are furballs please check them for ribbon. It is her favorite treat. Sometimes answers to 'SuperDave.'"

-- It's a good thing this catsitter is a female bodybuilder with a black belt and a sense of humor. Because seriously, someone is going to need protection while we're gone and I don't think it's the cats.

That's all I've really got for you tonight because it's been a long day and I'm tired. Speaking of sleepy, how about I leave you with this?

Yes, we are rigorously training for beach life.