I got loved ones into watching “This Is Us” but I’m not sure I ever really loved it. You have shows you watch, and some feel like a chore, and others feel like you can’t possibly wait a week for a new episode, and for some reason – you feel an allegiance to even the chore ones. Maybe you think they’ll get better. Maybe you’re watching them for work or school or a spouse. Who knows why anyone would watch something they don’t love during their precious time? Although time is different these days in Coronaverse. I fell in love with “This is Us” recently, when Rebecca sang “Our House” to Jack, and it carried over from the flashback into the present. It got me real good.
Such a cozy room, the windows are illuminated by the
Sunshine through them, fiery gems for you, only for you”
There’s something about that old home feeling, isn’t there? And I have searched for it. It doesn’t come easily. I lived in a little square house on Hickory Place in Rockaway until I was about five. It was where I was brought home, and it was the last place I saw my father alive, but barely. You could walk up the street and see the Twin Towers of New York City, and then come home to the garden and the attic and the bedroom with the bunk beds. When my mom remarried my dad, they took his house and turned it into a dream home six-bedroom house with four bathrooms, a loft studio, an art classroom, and lots of stuff of dreams. I had my old home feeling there, oh yes.
Nothing ever felt like that again, or at least not for awhile. My first house most surely did, but it’s filled with hazy details and terrifying sadness at this point. I had many college and post-college apartments, condos, and roommates, but that life isn’t really suited to me for long. San Francisco was hard and I wish it could have been different. Our first condo here was AMAZING and gave me that old home feeling. It’s where we first brought Scarlet home from the hospital.
Now everything is easy ’cause of you”
Now we have this house. This piecemeal dream house, from modest beginnings, only when you compare it to what’s been there, what’s going there, and what will be there. How we found it, how it was hard at first, and how it grows with all the new/olds. “I don’t ever want to move. You’ll build me a house on the hill,” she says, and maybe that’s actually true. Right now we have blueprints and architect plans and contractors on our text messages. “Can you do the outlandish, like secret bookcases and doors?” We ask. “Yes, I can do the outlandish. In ways that will actually work.” What will the house be like when we bring this one home from the hospital?
We used to go to open houses, even though we weren’t actively looking. We were happy. It was at one of those fun weekend open house jaunts with two-year-old Scarlet that we met a realtor who saw us for the goldmines we didn’t even know we were. We saw a house, and liked it, and then went back to see it – with relatives in tow. I think I panicked after that. I know that first houses are often fixer-uppers or starters, but I wasn’t really into that idea. That house required a second look, but it was only that. It didn’t give me that old home feeling. Not even close to it.
I told Cassidy my concerns and he suggested we both look at listings for something else. So we did. And we came to each other with the funkiest ski lodge of a house listing you ever did see.
We didn’t need a second showing with this house. We were the first ones at the Open House and the realtor was smiling serenely from the (then) deck. It was a paradise. All beams and lofts and sun-drenched forests. They say not to wear your emotions on your sleeve, but how can you not? Really. How can you not? It was a buyer’s market then, and we got the good news only days later – when we were at my friend April’s wedding. I told everyone there that we had big news, and their eyes would fly to my stomach. No, it wasn’t a baby. It was a house. Although, that same morning was actually the day of my last period, marking the first day of my 40 weeks with Des.
It snowed our second night in the new home. I was six weeks pregnant and feeling awful. Then we lost power for awhile – IN OCTOBER – because of a freak blizzard that canceled Halloween. It was one of the weirder experiences in this house, although I think Coronaverse takes the cake. That’s why we’re so lucky to be here during this, still building and rebuilding. Letting it grow.
It was hard at first because moving is hard. The transitions can course through your blood and make your heart pound. Also we had a freak blizzard. I was so early in pregnancy and so nauseous and the smells should have been good, but they sickened me. I don’t remember when I fell in love with this place, but I did. Probably when nausea floated away from me, and then January’s growing light warmed me. I’d see it linger over the trees and I knew that I was home.
I’m glad we have so many photos, because the organization is daunting. So much new/old. The first chicken coop, and the one now. Same with flags, bedrooms, gardens, paint colors, sheds, ramps, decks, and more. There isn’t a ton of rhyme or reason in my photos. We keep finding different ways of doing things. And that will continue. It’s a piecemeal dream house for a piecemeal dream life. You can’t always factor in freak blizzards, viruses, morning sickness, and heartache – they creep into your lives. Job loss or changes, uncertain times, setbacks, etc. And that’s what my photos show. And I kinda love this one love story because it continues to grow.
I’m linking up with Finish The Sentence Friday (FTSF) for a new prompt. This week’s awesome new topic is “Welcome to my house (anything about your home).” Link up your own post HERE.