For the week before I switched modes from cabinet construction to tying up loose ends - literally loose electrical wires, empty switch plates and the astonishing amount of construction detritus that littered the house. I spent several days cleaning, organizing, agonizing and trying to find the "home" under the house. But I got it clean.
So finally the house was clean(er). Trim was consolidated into the back room, lumber into the "mud" room and the place was swept and cleaned. For the first time, as I took the photos above, the house started to look like a house instead of my personal workshop. It had the empty feel of a real estate house and in that light I was able to look at it and remember the dozens and dozens of houses that I saw when we were searching and, while the place isn't finished, I saw the house that I had been looking for the whole time. It was here but it was buried under ugly paint, cheap cabinets, horrible fixtures and a general lack of respect for what was originally designed. It took a year but I uncovered a very spectacular house. A house I am very proud of.
Of course the day we moved Portland has it's first blizzard in like 4 years. We dug out boxes we'd packed two years earlier in NYC and it was like a time capsule. Furniture that I'd forgotten the color of, lamps that had been crushed by movers and shards of a former life.
It was a strange transformation in a way. Imagine if one day you moved into your office and how strange it would be to see your couch and kids there. It was sort of like that. The kids obviously loved the house instantly. With so many circles to run, stairs to climb and small spaces and overlooks it was a dream come true for them. For me it a relief to finally be in. It was hard to reorganize my working spaces but within a week I had reordered my space and found a better way to build. The cottage became the overflow space for all the we-can't-deal-with-that-now stuff.
One thing for me that was essential, mandatory even, was to get the fireplace working. The previous week I was checking the flu and discovered, tied in a knot inside the chimney, the original flu chains that held the original "O" and "C" for open and close. It was a very nice find. Still, we didn't have a screen of any kind since I'd ripped out the cheap brass and glass door contraptions and tossed them in the trash. Luckily I'd saved the screens and so set about using my machine shop in the garage to make a simple hanging system.
I'm a person who thinks constantly, frets details and works hard to make my vision a reality but I'm also a person who can take a step back and appreciate just how very far I've come. Lighting a fire and seeing the kids stare in wonder as they watched the flames dance was truly everything I'd been hoping for. To finally relax at night, in my own home, the first I've ever had and the one that I practically rebuild from the studs out was more rewarding than I'd imagined it could be. Probably even worth all the stress and anxiety that it's put me through this past year.
