She had a curious sense of her own roots
twined about the old house.
-Alice Tisdale Hobart
I sometimes have that, too - a curious sense of my own roots somehow twined about this old house.
Over the weekend, before and during the storm, I sanded floors. Myself. As in, I rented a commercial floor sander and installed the sanding pads and operated the 57,938 pound machine myself. It was a beating, especially after the stupid machine played out and the power went out. I sat down on the floor as Ike blew right outside that window and shouted, "I hate this old house! You're a terrible, ugly old pile of wood!" And immediately I was sorry. I felt as if I had screamed at myself. There is, after all, a curious sense of myself twined about the old place.
So. Floor finishing stalled but will resume again Saturday. This time I'm renting a different machine from a local place and not a chain superstore, so when I take it back and say, "Um, this machine needs to be serviced. Two of the three sanding drums don't work and I couldn't complete my project," the cashier won't look at me and say, all exasperated like, "Well, my belly button ring's infected. We all have our problems."
After putting on lipstick and a new yellow jacket this morning, I went to the bank. "I need money for a new roof," I told the loan officer. Surprisingly, she didn't double over laughing or call security to escort the crazy lady (me) outside. "I think we can help," she said. I almost hugged her.
Freeman House... old place... you may be getting a pretty new roof soon. It'll thrill us both, I know. In the meantime, I need you to be nice and not throw any other problems my way. You're killing me.
A note from the State of Texas. I'm all licensed up and certified to proceed with plans for the bakery side of Freeman House. Somewhere deep down inside I'm excited, but right now, I'm so preoccupied with storm clean up and a busted lawnmower and a leaking roof and half-sanded floors that my mind can only stretch so far. Could you be a little excited for me? That would be great.
Freeman House will be busy this fall. She's hosting a fundraising "Spook House" on Saturday, October 18. Those who come out okay will get a candy bag and a cartoon Christian leaflet with our perspective of Halloween. Then on November 1, the Fall Masquerade Ball is set to be a hit. I've decided to be a Forest Fairy and I already have big golden wings and a costume. I have to show you. Later I'll show you. It's spectacular.
Whew. So. Better be off. I have a group of ladies coming by in a few moments to "peek in" on the house. (People think, when you tell them you're renovating an old house, that you're simply repainting and changing out cabinet hardware. Why is that?) Folks come over here and take a few looks around and say, Wow. You really are redoing this house. I mean, it barely has walls. And I smile and agree but think, "Careful what you say! You should have seen her before. She's beautiful but just needs love."
But maybe I'm too defensive and emotionally involved. After all, I think over time my own roots have twined about the old house.