Renovation Realities: Another Behind the Scenes Look

I recently came across an application for a show called Renovation Realities. I haven't applied (yet)...still waiting to hear back about America's Most Desperate Kitchen. They really need to hurry up and start filming because the stainless steel appliances we found on Craigslist are making our kitchen look much less desperate.

However, if I was on a reality show about living in the home you're renovating, I think I would have high ratings. I say this with complete humility, and actually humiliation, because, to put it mildly, I have been freaking out a lot lately. If there was a secret camera room in our house where I was encouraged to voice all my true feelings about house flipping, you would hear me confess that today I beat a throw pillow against my kitchen table while cursing the dust that covered the floor, the furniture, the walls, the mirrors, and even the vacuum I was going to use to clean it up. Except that I couldn't find the vacuum extension piece. And this is what led to the flogging of the kitchen table with the flowered pillow.

And then the scene would cut to a moment earlier in the day when, after becoming fed up with cleaning bits of grout and plaster off of my bed, I hurled my phone down (onto the bed) and commenced screaming while my phone called my brother without my permission. I didn't stop hollering till I heard, "Hello? Kate? Hello?" I hung up the phone without a word, and thought about yelling some more, but my throat was beginning to hurt. So I just sort of crumpled onto the bed and lay there for a while.

People only want to watch you wallow in a heap on your bed for about five seconds, so next they would pan to the secret tell-your-feelings-to-the-camera room where I would be plunging into feelings of deep guilt over the fact that I cannot handle a bit of dust. Some people in this world have real problems, Kate. And besides, this dust is creating some beautiful things for you: A dishwasher that actually washes the dishes; fixtures that are no longer almond colored, but fresh, crisp white; and a shower you can use without fear of falling through to the floor below. At this point I would probably make an offensive analogy about how similar this experience must be to childbirth--how I feel like I can barely handle it right now, but in the end, the herringbone subway tile and granite countertops will make me forget how painful it was.

Anyway, I'm glad I'm not on a house flipping reality show, so that no one can see that ugly side of me. No one except Jordan, who worked for five days straight to (nearly) finish the master bathroom while I was out of town so that my mental breakdowns could be kept to a minimum. And after coming home from home depot today and finding me in such a state, he swiftly installed a new dishwasher, got the bathroom sink in working order, and made a second trip to home depot so he could hook up the water purifier.  And though my husband's secret camera room feelings might reveal that he wishes I had stayed in Florida longer, or that he had married someone who didn't mind the disarray as much as me, I wouldn't want to be doing this with anyone else. He is so patient with me. He is actually installing a clawfoot tub as I write. And you know by now that clawfoot tubs are my love language.

But back to that objectionable analogy about childbirth. The dust IS creating some gorgeous bathrooms. I can't wait to post pictures of them soon, but for now, they are all three under construction, each with one completed aspect. We shower in the guest bathroom, take a bath in the downstairs bathroom, and take care of everything else in the master bathroom. If I ignore the grout filled master bath shower, the extra sink top and cans of paint in the guest bath, and the fact that a tub is the only fixture in the downstairs bath, it actually feels kind of fancy. Three different bathrooms--each with it's own special purpose? It drips of extravagance. But at some point soon I really think we might finish one of them, and at that point, I promise I will fill the blog with more pictures and details about our renovated bathroom than you ever cared to know, just like a proud new parent.

My Favorite Poem

Across Earth

Isabel Fiske Conant

Once, I think, you looked down and saw what was before you,

And begged not to come at all, and then heard one say

--A bright one, your special one: "This is your journey."

Then his gesture swept the sight from memory away.

Sandals of forgetfulness, staff and scrip of hoping,

He gave into your hand, and, in a pale cloak,

He wrapped himself away from you, though you half knew him there,

Often....in blue dusk....in sunrise smoke.

A royal road from sea to sea, like a hero's highway,

You took it lonely town after town,

Forest and prairie. Now beyond the great divide,

Long past the desert, you are near the down.

Not like the eastern is the western ocean,

It's sky-line is lost in mist, but at its near shore

Wonderful its colors, like a daytime sunset....

When the san you tread is wet, you will see him once more.

Not as you thought, with tears, but with low laughter

Strangely light and care-free, you will understand 

How many times he paced you, and his step your own was timing,

How many times your cross-road was the gesture of his hand...

I have a weakness for old books, and this poem comes from a small, worn one called Many Wings, published in 1923. It came to me after ten years of admiring it from afar. Each time my family stayed in the Breckenridge condo I was delighted to find it was still there. This year, my Dad called the owner, and asked if I could take it home.  Now it sits atop a stack of well loved books in my office.

I can't vouch for all the theology wrapped up in these words, but I feel the truth about our glimpses of God on earth, in blue dusk...in sunrise smoke. I love the allegory of life as a journey from east to west, just like the sun's path. And so moving is the idea that death will not be sad, but will be a joyful understanding of what our life on earth was all about. 

I hope this poem brings you peace and encouragement. That would make me feel better, in case the current condo guests are wondering what happened to their favorite book of poems...