Friday thing : this old house

When we left our first house, we had planned to move into a new place that was being built in a neighborhood close to my husband’s job. We’d picked out the paint colors (aubergine for the door) & elevation along with dog-friendly carpeting & flooring and we paid the upgrade fee for white trim & a real wood mantle on the fireplace; we felt even more grown-up than the first time we’d bought a house. But as the construction [very slowly] proceeded and we kept visiting the site, we were increasingly dissatisfied with our choice: most of the houses were the same style we’d chosen, the neighborhood streets were already cramped with cars, and whenever we asked about adding other detail options, the builder basically sighed and suggested we were being difficult.¹ So we started driving around town while we still had time to cancel the sale and happened upon an open house in a neighborhood we’d actually visited six months earlier, when it was just starting to be built.

As soon as we walked in, the white trim made me smile. Plus there were stairs with a banister - something I didn’t know I desperately wanted until I saw it.² Around the corner was the fireplace with wood mantle waiting. I was sold before even seeing the rest of the house, though I would soon also love the laundry upstairs plus extra bedrooms for crafts & guests. My husband (and the dogs) got most excited about the spacious backyard with a curb cut for vehicle access. This bigger, more welcoming place was exactly the same price we were about to spend, and it instantly felt like home.

This piece of perfection, with its comforting Burt’s Bees color palette - yellow, black, and a candy apple red door: Thank you for your time & dedication, good home.

We moved in as summer started in 1997. My husband’s job was about a five-minute drive; I transferred to a Barnes & Noble in town and also started teaching part-time at a group home in east Portland. The dogs ran up & down the stairs all day, and on evening walks they gleefully discovered every place cats pooped. I joined a Bunco group; Stu made friends with car guys; we went to barbecues and organized neighborhood garage sales. We had our kids, finally put in air conditioning, got cats, remodeled our kitchen and patio, went to more barbecues and had more garage sales. Neighbors moved, married, divorced, remarried, got arrested, died³…then one morning we realized almost three decades had passed, and we needed to move again.

For the past year, I have only looked at houses that don’t resemble this one at all. If I chose something built in the 1990s, it would feel like I was cosmically betraying the place that had served us so nobly & lovingly for decades. I know how absurd that sounds but I don’t care. Our first house was a space for us to figure out what our life would become; we might have stayed and watched that neighborhood grow up with us but circumstances changed, so Second House became Home - where our family (people, pets, friends, foes) solidified through the ebbs & flows, waxing & waning of years. We thought we would see old age and grandchildren settling in here.
But circumstances have changed again, so we pivot.

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To Our First Full Home

Thank you for welcoming us and
our hound dogs onto your carpets
(until we put in tile
after the muddy trail)
(until we put in wood
after the dishwasher flood)

Thank you for shifting expectations
of breakfast nooks & family rooms,
from sunny places for old highchairs
to crafty spaces with desk & easels;
from cozy spots for fire-watching
to crowded plots with games & computers

Thank you for warmth
on the snowy no-school days
and the stormy no-power nights
and all the lucky years of visiting family & friends

Thank you for comfort
in the only-one-arrangement-works
living & dining rooms
where we had to come closer
together for movies & meals
and parties & present-opening

Thank you for the memories
echoing
across the porch
through the hallways, up & down stairs
around the kitchen
in the backyard, front yard
every room
echoing
laughterweepingjoydespairhopeworrywonder

Everything
has been just what we needed

We’ll take that all with us so
a new family can start over
Here
(almost our There)

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1. I appreciate that a mechanical engineer as home buyer can feel exhausting with his probing questions and curious scrutiny, but it seems a quality business would want our approval - and money - in the end…?

2. I had visions of The Brady Bunch staircase with our dogs & future kids standing on it for yearly photos (we never did this), and wrapping garland all along it at Christmastime (did this twice in 27 years)…maybe even having a newel post to fix?

3. Not the same people. Usually.