May 1, 2012
Rose (noun)
1. Any of numerous shrubs or vines of the genus Rosa, having prickly stems, pinnately compound leaves, and variously colored, often fragrant flowers.
2. An ornament, such as a decorative knot, resembling a rose in form; a rosette.
3. A form of gem cut marked by a flat base and a faceted, hemispheric upper surface.
4. A compass card or its representation, as on a map.
Idioms: Come up roses
To result favorably or successfully: Those were difficult times but now everything’s coming up roses.
Dear Friends,
You would not believe what I’m doing. It’s midnight, and I’m on line, shopping for locks and levers. That’s fancy contractor talk for “door knobs.” Yes, I am picking out doorknobs. That’s how far along I am on the house.
That, of course, is the good news. Nellie and I are still about two months from being “home,” and we have to move AGAIN because our lease has expired and the construction is delayed. (Sigh. Really BIG sigh.)
Two months sounds like a nano-second compared to this almost two-year process, and yet it still feels impossibly far away. My brain still cannot let me grasp the fact that soon we will be home again, back on my land, in my new house. Part of me refuses to accept that, and won’t believe it until it’s real. Denial, caution, overwhelm – or a combination of all three? What is it that holds me back, what voice has begun to whisper in my ear, “Don’t believe it until you see it?” I don’t remember hearing that voice before. For most of my life, I have been Ms. Throw-Caution-to-the-Wind. The fire has made me a bit more wary, and frankly, I’m just plain tired.
A friend was over the other day and said, “Wow, you look kind of exhausted.” I said, “Oh hon, I passed ‘exhausted’ about a year ago – that landmark is long gone.” Recovery from loss is a marathon, not a sprint, and now that I am in the home stretch, I am feeling the distance – trying to catch my breath yet again for the final run across the Finish Line. And yet I know there is no Finish Line – just a different life waiting for me up ahead; a life full of question marks, new experiences, and possible adventures.
Anyway, back to locks and levers. Yesterday I drove about a half-hour to a doorknob showroom (yes, doorknob showrooms do exist) to go look at levers for the doors to the new house. You’re probably thinking, “Oh for God’s sake just go to Home Depot and be done with it!” Well, apparently some doorknobs are made from plastic, some from metal, and if you go to a real doorknob guy you’ll probably get something more long lasting and durable. As I’ve said, I’m building a house to die in, and part of the design of my new house is what’s called “aging in place.” So I actually don’t have door knobs in my new house, I have levers. No twisting, just a gentle push and voila! The door opens. Mom in her walker, my friends with mobility issues – everyone can move around easily in my new home. And thus, I am taking some time to thoughtfully choose door hardware. And besides, as a writer and researcher, I tend to be neurotically detail oriented, so this is right up my alley.
I sat down with the very nice guy in the showroom and started looking at catalogs. We found a simple hardware set for the pocket doors – a bracket and lock that you can grab easily – stainless steel, looked nice. I asked how much it was and he said, “Let’s see… that one is…five hundred dollars.” I said, “FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS?!!! That’s my entire budget! One one doorknob? What do you have in the forty dollar range?” (Note to Self – Always tell the vendor your budget before you start shopping for anything.) Sigh.
And of course, you not only have to pick out the levers, but the locks – what kind of locks? Keys? Keypads? A separate deadbolt? Keyed in the plate, or in the knob? Do you want locking pins for stability? (Take another breath, you can do this…)
We picked out some inexpensive hardware that will do the job, and this still took over an hour. This was my fourth house-building appointment of the day, and I was feeling a little overwhelmed, but okay. Then he said, “What kind of rose do you want on these?” I looked at him and said, “Rose? What kind of rose do I want?” “Yes,” he said, “The rose is the plate that goes behind the lever – this part right here…” He pointed to the little metal plate behind the lever I chose. “Do you want round roses, square, oblong, rectangular, custom…?” I stared at him blankly and said, “I have to decide what kind of ROSE to get?” And at that moment, I felt my brain starting to shut down. I could almost hear the little computer inside my head beeping; “Warning! Hard drive full! Crash imminent!” I stared at him and said, “Uhhhh….” This was decision number ten-thousand-two-hundred and eighty-four, and my brain just decided to take a little vacation. It was refusing to cooperate. He said kindly, “Would you like to call your architect?” I said, “No, no, just give me a second.” Roses, for Pete’s sake.
My little dog Nellie was with me, and she came over, wagging, and licked my hand. I picked her up and said, “Okay Nellie, what kind of roses do you want on your doorknobs? Round, square, oblong…. perhaps dog-shaped?” and then we laughed. That seemed to snap me out of it. “Round,” I said. “Round it is,” he said.
And so, another milestone. I have picked out locks, levers and roses. Phew.
I drove down the highway from the showroom back to Boulder, chomping on an apple, feeling rather proud of myself. Nellie was crashed out in the back seat, exhausted from being dragged around to various places all day, and I felt strangely happy. I wasn’t raised to be handy, or to know anything about building a house. I always thought, like many people, that it was a wildly complex project, far beyond my abilities. But when push comes to shove, you just do it.
Even though I’m exhausted and overwhelmed, I realize that this is a precious gift that has been dropped in my lap, through both dire and happy circumstance. Who gets to build a house from the ground up? Mostly people with a lot of time and money, which has never been the case with me. My friends and I like to raise money for charities, but we don’t tend to stash away a lot for ourselves. Freelancers, nurses, artists, teachers – these are the folks I spend most of my time with. Building a house would be like flying to the moon for most of us, and yet here I am, working with architects, builders, painters – picking out doors and locks and levers, paint colors, tile, and designing rooms. And learning, with surprise, that I am rather good at it. Who knew?
I am finding that when life pushes us far beyond our comfort zone, we seem to rise to the occasion. When we are stripped of comfort, of all familiarity, all that is left is our inner strength, our true resiliency, our inner core of being. And I am finding, at that core, my Warrior Princess, my Inner Super Hero, who can sometimes leap tall buildings in a single bound, who can coordinate crazy amounts of details, and who can orchestrate, with a lot of help, an entire house rising from the ashes of disaster.
Who knew, almost two years ago, when I drove down the driveway of my old house, off to spend the summer on the Washington coast, that this is where I’d be two years later? Who knew that I was embarking on a heartbreaking and wonderful adventure, or that I would meet scores of new people along the way? Who knew that I would learn so much, and find so much joy, in spite of everything?
When I look at a house, I will never again see just a house. I will see the thousands of decisions that someone made, and the agony and overwhelm and excitement and love that it took to make that house a reality. I will see the dozens and dozens of people – architects, contractors, excavators, masons, framers, roofers, electricians, plumbers, and painters, to name a few – who worked night and day to make that house a reality. I will see the village that it took to raise that house.
I realize that a rose is not just a rose, it can be many things – a lovely flower, a diamond, a compass marker, and even the little plate behind a doorknob. Who knew?
Wishing You Sweet Dreams, and Days Full of Roses,
Andi
South Side of the House and the Giant Deck
Cheerful Roofer Guys
Hooking Up the Phone
Amy the Brilliant Architect
Cute Drywall Guy
The Trim Carpenter and Chet the Tile Guy
Lars the Cute Painter
Warren the Amazingly Patient Electrician
Jerry Long, My Wonderful Contractor (left) and John Chambers, Supervisor Extraordinaire and All Around Nice Guy
So that’s how you’ve whipped yourself into such great shape. You’ve been doing a marathon! It’s to your everlasting credit that you still have a sense of humor, Andi. May your House To Die In get a LOT of practice being wonderful before it fulfills its final destiny. Hmmm…final destiny. Is that redundant?
Thanks so much, Cheri!
Oh, wow, it just look s so gorgeous! All the people working on it seem so very nice, too. Hang in there, Andi, you’re almost home. Too bad you can’t pitch a tent till move in day to save the hassle of another move!
Thanks Jodi. Everyone who comes up to work on it comments on what a great site it is – seems like they love working up there. I’m almost always greeted with smiles.
Your comments about what it takes to build a house really hit home for me. In 2000 I sold my little California shack for an enormous amount of money, and headed back to Ohio where I grew up. My mom gave me some land, and I built a house just the way you’re doing. It was an extraordinary experience, and I especially loved all the men (and one or two women) who did most of the work for me. As a working class girl from that particular township, I could relate to all of them (and I love all your photos of the workers). As soon as my house was finished, I realized I couldn’t live in Nowhere, OH as an adult any more than I could as a teenager. It took me two years to sell my beautiful house. I never gave myself much credit for what I accomplished, what I learned, and how I grew. So, you did it for me, Andi. Thanks.
Thanks for reading and commenting, Margaret. I’ve tried to get the name and take a picture of every single person who has worked on my house – from the excavators to the framers to the painters. It’s been a bit daunting, but it feels really important to me to acknowledge how many people it takes to build a house – even a small one. Thanks for sharing your house building story – where in Ohio were you?
Gotta have those cute drywallers and painters! Heads up that lions and bears can open those lever thingies. I’ve had them for years–you just have to remember to lock them, which you might not think of in the mtns, that’s all.
Thanks Claudia, didn’t think of that. Hmmm, lions and bears and smart kitties, oh my!
Andi, I’ve been reading for a while, but thought I’d finally leave a comment. Your words about your journey always make me look inside myself. Should I ever face such an experience in my life, I hope to bear the marathon with the grace you have. And now for a funny story … a friend built a house “to die in,” complete with levers. Her amazingly smart cats have figured out how to jump up, pull the levers, and move around the house at will. Oops!
Hi Lee Ann, Thanks for reading and for your kind words. You are always welcome to leave a comment here – it lets me know people are reading! Thank Goodness Princess Nellie does not have opposable thumbs – yet.
Love the photos of all the people who are working together to build your home. What smiles! I’m sure they are embedding positive vibes into the house with every nail, shingle, and tile.
Thank you Betty. I’m always delighted by the love and good cheer on the building site. I think much of the credit goes to my contractor, Jerry, who hires really talented folks who seem to enjoy their work. One of the tradespeople said, “The only thing I don’t like about Jerry is that you can’t yell at him about anything – he’s just too nice.” So it’s a pretty peaceful site, which I think will help translate into a peaceful new home.
Who knew that roses had anything to do with doorknobs? Perhaps one of the more useless learnings on this unsought adventure of yours! And another thing about levers: bears apparently have learned how to use them. Good thing you went for those durable locks!
Thanks for commenting, Priscilla. It’s been quite an education.
Cute drywall guy. Didn’t know there were any. After I bought my Boulder house 22 years, 8 months and 17 days ago, I had some renovations done. (Trivial compared to what you’ve been muscling thru.) The drywallers, who called themselves “rockers” (short for “sheetrockers), were like the Hell’s Angels of construction workers. It was a hot summer, and they worked shirtless, displaying their neck-to-belt tattoos. Their long, scraggly hair was somewhat contained under do-rags. 1988, I think, was the pre-piercing era. So a cute, clean-cut drywall guy is out of the realm of my experience. Glad you had it tho’.
My contractor said he’s the youngest drywall specialist he’s ever hired, and also the most talented. Lucky me!
Andi, Who knew there was so much to learn about locks, levers and roses? Thanks for sharing this post and most especially the photos of your smiling design/build team! You’re in the home stretch now and it’s great to see. Cheers to you!
Thanks for reading, Hollis, and for your ongoing support.
Hi, Andi, Congratulate yourself ~ and Nelllie ~ for what you have accomplished so far! GREAT job, and how marvelous that you’ve met so many wonderful people along the way. Love the pictures and your hopefulness! Blessings, Mary
Hi Cousin Mary! Thanks for reading and commenting – I’m so looking forward to meeting you when things calm down a bit.
Andi, I love the way you can take a simple thing and bring it to life in such detail.
Thank you Beth, I appreciate your stopping by and commenting. Take care.
Home is waiting for you…roses and all!
Yes indeed. Perhaps I should call it “Rose House.” I’ve been trying to think of a name (other than Phoenix) for my new house…
Andi, I don’t make it to your blog often enough but when I do . . . you and your words touch me.
I dropped in today because I wanted to share your blog with some of my colleagues. I shouldn’t be surprised by now to find that when it is you who is writing about locks, levers, and roses, there is always more meaning than meets the eye.
So looking forward to more people seeing the world from your perspective. Your eyes see differently now and many of us continue to learn through them.
Thank you.
Hi Tamara,
Thanks so much for stopping by and commenting – your words mean so much to me. And please encourage your colleagues to comment – it lets me know folks are reading! Many thanks and take good care.
Just dropping in to say you are in my thoughts today. Hoping you made it to the mountains away from the fires enjoying blue skies.
Okay, I just started reading your blog today, and I have to say I LOVE that you point out the cute workers so I can scroll back up and have another look. haha
A friend sent me your Oct 28th post and I have to tell you, I was offended. It was like she was telling me I needed to be happier. I have been through a lot lately and I have faced it all with a sense of humor bordering on the callous. But, because I seem to be liking your blog so well, I’m not going to hold it against her.
I would like to use your paragraph from above on my Facebook page: “I am finding that when life pushes us far beyond our comfort zone, we seem to rise to the occasion…” etc. I will credit your name and post a link to this blog, but I’d really like your permission before I do that. It does sum things up so nicely.
Anissa,
I’m so glad you found the blog. Thank you for your honesty (and I’m glad you’re enjoying the pictures 🙂
I know exactly what you mean about people telling you to be happier – total strangers have told me to “look on the bright side” for the last two years. I finally started telling them, “I’m sorry but no one gets to tell me about the “Silver Lining” except me – not you, not my friends, not anyone. I get to look on my OWN bright side, thank you very much.”
I think that happiness and joy and sorrow and loss have their own rhythms, and they are OURS. No one gets to judge them. Hopefully, your friend was expressing her love for you, and her wishes for your happiness. I also think it’s a paradox – we can work on maintaining joy, and a positive attitude, and feel our grief and loss deeply at the same time. There are days when I am still the Grumpy Girl, for good reason! Fortunately, after two years, I can move out of that state pretty quickly most times. Whew. It’s been a long ride.
You are very welcome to post the paragraph on Facebook, and I appreciate the link. You also might want to look at the essay, “How to Survive a Minus Tide.” You might like it!
Again, thanks for visiting the site, and for reading and commenting. Best of luck with the challenges in your life – keep going, one day at a time – and know I’m cheering for you.
Take Care,
Andi