Destruction, Reconstruction and Choices

Nine-hundred miles from my present location, in Bellevue, Iowa a tribe of Sieverdings and their accessories are:
1) digging up the yard to install a cut-off in the sewer line. We all fervently hope they can do so without ripping up the street;
2) trying to estimate costs for ripping out and replacing all electrical wiring without a) knowing where all the new appliances will go, or b) having access to the ceiling and walls, while;
3) ripping out acoustical tile drop ceiling in the kitchen and other spaces while;
4) gutting the upstairs kitchen and alchemizing it into an upstairs spa bathroom.
5) conspiring against the one decent first floor closest, located in the guestroom but about to be appropriated into the bathroom.
And that's just this week. Meanwhile, Ron and I are online shopping for fridge, wall oven, gas cooktop, countertops, tin ceilings, flooring, lighting, and that's just next week.
And oh, packing and boxing and garage sale marking, grading papers, serving on boards, doing design work, walking the dog, falling asleep in front of the TV. Imagine the difference six weeks is going to make!

Reunited, and it feels so good

Ron took a step almost as momentous as Neil Armstrong's stroll across the moon: he walked up the interior staircase of the house from botton to top floor, and back again. He's the first person to complete this feat for around 35 years, when the stairway was walled in to create two apartments. He's been at Hotel Setzepfandt for almost a week, shop-vaccing spiders and stairways and garage ceilings. He and Bellevue-ite Al Theilen have the basement and the rafters in one of the garages emptied of junk. Lots of strolling spectators have popped in to take a look at the progress. Steve Roling across the street recognized a huge mirror stored in the garage as belonging to his nephew. Said nephew came over and carried the mirror off, saying that somebody (I'm not sure who) has been storing that mirror for him these many years. I think we need to take an ad in the BH-L alerting the town that any property they've stored at 609 N. Second is in danger of being land-filled. =D
Today Ron is having a strategy meeting with various Sieverdings and Keifers to develop a timeline and get things moving! Anybody have any tips for getting the bats out of our belfry?

Another domino falls

Because we're not part of the five percent of Americans who have 95 percent of the wealth, Ron & I cannot own two homes at a time indefinitely. So it was with some trauma we placed our Laramie home on the market, on Friday, March 25. Soothing the trauma somewhat is the fact that on Monday, March 28, the house went under contract at the full asking price. The first several hours after a man pounded the For Sale in our yard, we were both hesitant to go out and see how it looked from the street. We peered at it from a front window, from which we could only see a sliver of the sign. A few hours later I forced myself to go take a look. No matter how much one welcomes change, when that change moves from a gleam in your eye to something that crawls and then something that can walk on its own, it is a shock. Fortunately we didn't have to endure anxiety of the unknown for long. A young couple from Seattle, both incoming UW faculty members, seemed to fall in love with it right away. Welcome to the Pink House, Annika and Bailey. It'll be yours around the first of June.

Hidden Staircase is secret no more

Ron did some excavating with his sawzall to see what sort of staircase was still intact in the house. It had been hidden long ago to accommodate an upstairs apartment with just an outside entrance. We'd heard that the neighbor who did the stairway hiding had kept it intact but after 30 years, one never knows. How surprised and pleased we are to find this! Butch Eggers, who was born in the house and is still a neighbor, took one look and recalled sliding down the bannister, many times, as a kid.

Fun, setbacks and searches

First for the fun. Ron had a great time in Bellevue, hanging out with new friends, and taking in a bit of St. Patrick's Day fun on the town with Bellevue Deb. He also worked out a plan with Al for cleaning out and re-mortaring the basement, and with Steve for hauling away the oil tanks. He's about to start day two of his trip home and should be back in Laramie late afternoon. He's taking it easy: while in Bellevue a few afternoons ago one of his eyes decided to freak out and dispatch a bunch of floaters to impede his vision. Long story short, a Bellevue eye doc dispatched him to Dubuque, where he had laser surgery on the eye. The cause of the problem isn't quite known yet - he has an appointment to see Dr. Lowe here in Laramie on Monday. That's one search: the other is for an affordable leather-ish queen size sleeper sofa. I'd like to buy it online from a store in the Dubuque area who will deliver it to Bellevue the next time Ron is there, maybe in about a month. I wanted to get one anyway for what will be the guest room. I'd like to get it now to spare him another week with the air mattress and sleeping bag. Any ideas for stores?

Ron is getting it done!

Ron is in Iowa this week, staying at "Hotel Setzepfandt" sleeping on an air mattress and living out of a cooler. But there's hope: he's been entertaining a parade consisting our contractors the polka-playing Sieverdings, the guy who is cleaning out 131 years worth of cobwebs in the basement, the plumbers, the bath & kitchen folks, and to come, the kid who mows the lawn and maybe even an electrician. Then of course there are new friends like Steve, Sarah, Butch, and still to come, Deb and maybe even Bellevue Randy.
It has been a very long time since I've blogged here because other than living in the daily stew of wondering what is going on with our renters and hoping snowfall doesn't bring down the roof, we've been unable to take real action. But I'm here grading papers over spring break for the last time ever (progress), the Laramie house is going on the market next week (more progress) and the movers are coming today to give us an estimate to schlep our stuff 900 miles east. Most of this progress equals money, but yep - that's what we've been saving up for. Bring it on!
Pictures coming soon from Ron's stairway opening big reveal. The secret of the Hidden Staircase, for all you Nancy Drew Fans.

Mary Lorraine Brennan Couch

Since part of the "Restoring Home" project has to do with my mother, I thought I'd announce here that she departed this earth on November 22, 2010. (She shares that date with President John F. Kennedy.) At her funeral in Kansas City I read the following little piece. Here it is:

“Serene.” That was mother’s answer when I asked her what her favorite word was. I was nine or ten years old, a budding wordsmith, a collector of various sorts of “favorites” – words, especially.
I’d never heard the word “serene” before – but it sounded familiar because Samantha’s cousin on Bewitched was named Serena. But mother explained that she loved the word for how it sounded and even more, for what it meant. To her, serenity was a snapshot from childhood: a grassy lawn, a bubbling brook, a shady tree, and a good book.
That was the sort of thing she loved, and the minute she said it, it became the sort of thing I loved, too.
I spent many years in search of the perfect setting, the perfect book, the perfect calm state of being.
That search eventually took me to Wyoming, 700 miles west. Mother never once complained that I lived too far away, or that I’d made it difficult for her to see me, or that I should learn to find home closer to home. Instead, she encouraged me to follow my heart, saying that my choice of Wyoming gave her someplace interesting to visit.
Each time I’ve returned to Kansas City to see family and friends in the 18 years I’ve been away, she and I have known it could be our last time together. We never said it, never fretted over it, but it was there. But mother was a composed and dignified person, not one to let emotion run unchecked or to put her wishes above those of her children. What was good for us was good for her.
Mother gave me many gifts. Being allowed to live a life of my own making, knowing my mother approved and supported my freedom, was probably the best one. That was the gift of serenity.