It has been a little over a year since we've moved into our home. Has it been a great year? No, not really. Are we ready to call it quits? No. I will not let our 260 year old home get the better of us. I am, however, just now beginning to feel overwhelmed.
It's simply impossible to blog of all the events that have transpired in this year, so in a quick synopsis: Windows, insulation, grass, leaves, money, wood, spiders, egg sacks, trim, molding, mold, heating, drafts, cracks, lighting, floorboards, furniture, decorations, the mid-life crisis motorcycle "gang", tools, money, contractors, crying baby, my lovely yet nagging wife, wind, a hole in the wall, money, a meowing cat in the middle of the night, vehicle maintenance, my know-it-all father, groundhogs, a pulled back (times 2), work, cobwebs, time, vent fan, trees, electrical, kitchen, washer timer, dryer timer, fireplaces, grubs, visiting family, plaster, foundation, the punk with the annoyingly loud low octave muffler, cooking stove, mice, beams, water leakages, neighborhood vandals, mega snow, heating oil, ghosts, oh, and money.
There are so many things to do and so little time to do it in. With our child and our jobs... now the clocks are set back, days are shorter. The weekends are filled with other errands and our home sits patiently waiting for this and that.
I look at our home with sadness. It deserves better. I say that because I lack the experience and knowledge to do the job right. I dream in fear of repairing one aspect of this home only to have it worse off than before I touched it. And the list of things to do increases each time I look around. I am so hesitant to do anything except the little things that a weekend warrior does... realistically, that's cutting the grass and raking leaves... yey...
But honestly, I can read dozens of books on this and that and still be hesitant on completing any task. Sometimes I feel as though the weight of this house is on my shoulders, like a growing elephant in the room. Forgive the juvenile irony and insensitive humor of the photo, throwing political correctness out the window, I couldn't resist. While being gloomy all weekend, it made me smile.So here I sit, counting the cracks, making wish lists and watching our checking accounts. I know full well that what ever I think I want to complete, may not be. It's not motivation, it's fear. So, I'm putting it out there, right in the open. I NEED HELP. I feel as though I've been driving with my wife; thinking I know where I am going, gloating at that fact even. Until, that is, I realize that I have no idea where I am, and am forced to ask for directions.
I need a mentor, a guide. Someone who doesn't expect financial gain by helping a fellow lover of antique homes. Someone experienced and wanting to share in the "love" as it were. I don't know where to start... what tools are needed... materials to use... resources to collect.... contractor to hire... stores to visit. Like many, I would hate to waste money on doing things wrong or paying the price for a "specialist" contractor. I don't mind doing the work myself, but I just don't know what to do.
So I ask of my readers, if your honestly an experienced expert willing to mentor, use the comment form below or email me at confessionsofanantiquehome@gmail.com. What is ironic about this is that most of you reading this are just like me... so I am preaching to the choir. My fellow readers, I am not giving up! I am venting at the frustration that has been this year.
