We are in the middle of a major home renovation, a much overdue renovation. We’ve lived in a time-capsule of trends-throughout-the-decades. Our former neighbor, Mr. Benny, built our house and those around us shortly after returning from the war … that is WWII. Over the years we have updated and upgraded the urgent issues: a substantial electrical system overhaul to accommodate a techy husband’s obsessions (and basic appliances), removal of the olive-green kitchen appliances and ripping out the matching shag carpet that greeted guests as they stepped through the front door. We have removed walls, installed stairs to an attic loft, refinished wood floors, and added French doors while closing others. To be honest, any delay in remodeling has solely been on my shoulders. I am perfectly content with dated furniture, appliances, and technology. It is a tradeoff for being frugal.
On a side note, can I go back to the aforementioned attic loft? The previous owners were living in this house, and raising a teenage son, during the late 1960s. The attic loft was his bedroom. One problem, the only access was through a pulldown ladder in the hallway! (Maybe not a bad idea.) When we climbed the rungs, we discovered a 1960s treasure trove. My friend, Alice, dubbed it the “Groove is in the Heart” room. Three Jimi Hendrix posters, abandoned to the decades, called out from the walls, and a ticket stub – November 23, 1968, Houston Music Hall headlining Janis Joplin – was thumbtacked and left forgotten. You could almost smell a faint pungent odor, baked into the walls, beckoning us back to a groovier time. Although quickly redecorated, a proper staircase installed and aroma therapy for the walls, the room still has a love-affair with music. It is my husband’s studio and stores countless trombones (how many does one man need?), baritones, a bass, amps, a keyboard, among other instruments. I would hope this makes Jimi & Janis proud.
After watching too many home-improvement shows (Home Town is my favorite) we were finally influenced to shazam the place. Time to leave the 20th century in the 20th century. The problem with a total makeover, is that we had to empty our home of everything. E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G!
Do you remember George Carlin’s “Stuff” routine? “That’s all your house is: a place to keep your stuff. If you didn’t have so much stuff, you wouldn’t need a house. You could just walk around all the time. A house is just a pile of stuff with a cover on it.” Let me tell you, we have stuff and all of the stuff had to be packed and moved. At first it was a pleasant journey down memory lane. Remnants of my son’s childhood. Artifacts that bring my parents and grandparents to mind. But then the connection to family became more distant. A jelly dish handed down from my mother that was her grandmother’s or great-grandmother’s. I am not sure. All I know is that this pioneer woman carried it with her when she crossed the mighty Mississippi River in a wagon with her family (so the story goes). And now I have it. It is just a dish. I doubt it was of any significance to my ancestor other than a vessel for jelly, but it survived the journey and then was passed down for generations to live in my house with all of my stuff! It’s not just the jelly dish, there is more, much more. Aside from “heirlooms” there is sh*t, lots of sh*t.
“Have you noticed that their stuff is shit and your shit is stuff?” – George Carlin.
My closet embraced clothes a size too small in hopes that one day … It also acknowledged reality and stored pants a size too large, just waiting for the inevitable fat days and Thanksgiving dinner “hangovers”. Do I really need 3 sizes of jeans? And what about the capri pants? Nothing screams old lady more than baggy-butt capris on a squatty, former-middle-aged woman. And then there is my kitchen. Large gadgets and small gadgets. Gadgets for everything. By the time I remember where I put the specialized go-go-gadget peeler, and then dig it out from an overpacked drawer, I could have stripped a truckload of cucumbers with my pairing knife. I don’t need kitchen st*ff.
Letting go can be cathartic. And remodeling can be refreshing. But why stop with the house? Why not let go and remodel my self? Old doubts. Preconceived limitations. Ideas. Assumptions. Viewpoints. Resentments. Behaviors. Sh*t. I wish these changes were as easy as packing up all that holds me down or holds me back and hiring movers to haul it out or contractors to remake me. Sigh … this will take a personal investment.
So, I’m looking at my schedule, and finding dedicated time to devote. Time for introspection, self-reflection, prayer, meditation, writing, growth … time for me. Like my house, the old bones remain (some worse for the wear), but what’s inside can be rethought, and upgraded.
I invite you to join me. Let go of the sh*t. Change from olive green to a new array of colors!
On my way!
I remember the famous chainsaw incident!🤣🤣🤣