Okay. Yesterday as we moved into our new house in Alexandria we did the math and realized that we have made three moves in less than 13 months. Makes us feel like college students again except we are almost 50 years older. And this morning we really felt it. Thomas came walking (not bounding) up the stairs and said "These stairs are solid; not one creak". That is the stairs ~ not us.
This house is 91 years old. It was built at a time where slightly more than half the homes had indoor bathrooms. There is a line in the house as you are walking throughout from the front door where it is clear what part existed in 1930 and what part was added a half century later. Some of it is charming and some of it just looks old. In the old part of the house there are beautifully polished pine floors, In the new part ~ oak. In the old part there are so many layers of paint that as I looked up at the window sill from our bed (still on the floor; the bed frame needs to be completely disassembled to go up the narrow stairway) it looks like there are no sharp corners. The paint had created lumpy rounded corners that look like the cottage cheese cellulite of old age. Thomas walked around the house and in his engineer way described every imperfection. "This house has so many things to fix." An engineering dream I think.
I was actually so surprised he liked the house. Thomas likes neat things that are done well. He liked living in Palo Alto because he said it was like a clean Berkeley. This house is certainly Berkeley. I love that about this house and this neighborhood. I love the messy diversity of humans, dogs, dwellings that surround us. Something has shifted for him and he seems to see the opportunity this house is presenting. It is a project to him. He appreciates the solidness that comes from building that happened almost a century ago ~ the materials used that would be cost prohibitive now. The craftsmanship of the details. He can keep those qualities and make it even better.
I see it as a story of time. And, I see it as reflective of our own developmental experience. This house is like me (although certainly even older than me!). I have so many parts of myself that have been painted over and over again. Like this house, the paint wasn't carefully stripped to allow the new coat to shine in its sharpness. Each coat created a rounded (and lumpier) layer. Everything worked so well when the house was first built. Sure, there were some glitches (asthma, eczema, allergies) but mostly it was solid and capable and strong. Now some things don't work so well and definitely don't look so perfectly cultivated but who cares. There is so much beauty and cohesion in the aging process of this house. It has good bones that have sometimes been cared for over the years, sometimes neglected, but for now, remain solid. There are many cosmetic blemishes but the overall beauty of the structure mitigates those or at least makes them easier to overlook.
Perhaps what has changed for Thomas is the knowledge that throwing abandon to the wind and moving three times in a year just emphasizes the sense of control we don't have. What a shock for us. Those college moving days appear to be not over. We who thought at one time in the not-so-distant past that there would be little revision in our lives. Apparently transformation is still possible ~ to this 91 year old house and to these senior selves. It is just creakier.
We hope to welcome you to our beautiful backyard sometime soon
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