January 17, 2013

The House: Part 02: Restoration

The transite siding on the exterior of the house contains asbestos. The outer walls have insufficient insulation. The furnace needs replaced and the duct work that runs from the furnace to all corners of the house is in disarray, with some ducts leading to no where and others missing whole sections. Some of the electrical work in the house is the old knob and tube variety, which painstakingly needs updated, outlet by outlet and light by light. The roof needs replaced. The water heater is unsafe. The paint on the porch contains lead, which is also true of the window trim and several rooms with wood floors that have been painted. The upstairs bathroom needs replumbed. There is water damage in the hallway. The attic needs collar ties and the side door of the house is held shut by two nails and a screw. The original wood floors are buried underneath carpet and tile and glue and tar paper. The gutters are falling apart and there are at least five places on the first floor where you can see through holes into the cellar, which is a dilapidated mess in itself. Did I mention we need a new roof?

Suffice it to say, after decades of neglect and hard winters and one hundred and forty-three years of aging, our poor old home has been dying a slow death.

We are here to bring it back to life. 


My second daughter died on March 24, 2011. The day before we left the hospital, we were planning our getaway. Going back to our life seemed damn near impossible, facing the same daily routine, going about our business as usual. It seemed like a cruel punishment, another layer of shit to add to the reality of going home without our Margot. So we schemed and planned our escape, talking over a hospital bed about where we could move to or how long we could travel for. In the end, we purchased a beat up motor home that we only used for one weekend.

We needed our friends. Needed a place for Stella to feel comfortable while we grieved. We needed to try and have another baby, and needed to have our same Doctor along for the journey.

For twenty months, we stayed in Los Angeles. We grieved. We got pregnant. And then we had Leo and some color returned to our charred hearts. And then some of the fog lifted, out of our weary minds, and we decided it was time for a new beginning, however brief or long this Midwestern experience will be.


We have toiled over this house, day after day, one of us going in to scrape or paint or clean or fix, slowly bringing our old home back to life. We have hauled enough trash out of the house to fill a five hundred and forty cubic feet dumpster. We have scraped tar paper from the wood floors, inch by literal inch, with steamers and heat guns and paint scrapers and chisels, all while on our knees, with blisters on our palms and cramping in our legs and the kind of shoulder ache that wakes you up in the middle of the night. We removed an oil tank from the basement and walked through cobwebs and repaired drywall and we're not even close to the end.

The strange truth of the matter, as we bring this old home back to life, is that the house on Fletcher Avenue may be returning the favor. 


Hope's Mama said...

Your first paragraph made me tired! But from what I know of you guys, granted it is online stuff I've learnt about you from this virtual world, I know you can do it, and do it well. Very well.
Good things ahead for the Jacksons.

Brooke said...

It sounds daunting. And kind of awesome. It's a wonderful thing, to find a project of mutual recovery.

Anonymous said...

keep up the good work, guys! i like your attitude.

Melissa said...

Daunting, exhausting, rewarding, cathartic.

So cathartic.

Enjoy your new home!

Renel said...

Sometimes when working on home projects that require cooperation is when Daryl and ivare at our best. I hope this house is less frustrating and more rejuvenation but it may only feel like that with hindsight. :)

Suzanne said...

Wow! That sounds like an incredible and occasionally dangerous project. Climb Mt. Everest? Who needs it. Restore an old house and you can face the same kinds of treacherous conditions. So many opportunities for creative solutions. I hope this nest rebuilding project brings a deep sense of home and family and belonging to you all <3

loribeth said...

I am looking forward to some before & after photos. ; )

kerry kind said...

It was there long before you were, giving sanctuary and domicile to families now long gone. It will now likely remain for generations after you have finished your course. It was in danger of extinction, as a place of laughter, hot breakfasts, Christmas trees, and love. You have rescued it not just for yourselves, but for all of the past memories that seem lost to us but not to everyone, and for all of the future ones yet to be lived, for . . . who knows how long? Resurrecting the Fletcher Avenue house is worthy toil. It is not so different from reclaiming wood from former usefulness and making things of beauty that will also outlive you. But this is a grander scale. In our world there are too many who destroy, tear down, or just use up. Thanks for being among the builders up, the healers.

::athada:: said...

Do be careful with the asbestos (and lead). Spent last summer doing air monitoring at removals in hospitals & schools. Nasty stuff. (And watch that the little ones don't nibble on the paint - happened to a friend with their windowsills). I believe (at least in MI) if you are the owner, you can do repairs/removal however you want... at your own risk. That is, you bypass all the regulations for public/industrial sites. You might consider a professional asbestos removal company depending on where work needs to be done.

::athada:: said...

Also curious as to how you found out (attached to the title like a notification, or during inspection). Would not be surprised to find nasties elsewhere (pipe insulation, etc), so do practice safe remodeling.

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