Tag: house

Screaming Hypocrite

How calm and cool and reasonable was I in the face of the ravaged lot behind our house, I told myself last week? The destroyed view from our backyard. The disturbance of not only our solitude but our peace and quiet. And worse, the upending of our dream. That was the impression I wanted to convey to the world and to myself.

As the story and project have unfolded, the story is textbook irony. I had looked for a more suitable house for us for over a year. We must have looked at 20. Made an offer on a few. But there was always a dealbreaker.

The beautiful wood paneled walls of the three acre country estate with the many fruit trees but maintenance issues and the shredded birdcage around the pool. As we countered back and forth with the seller, I was slowly undone by the amount of work it would take to bring this beautiful property back to life and good health. And it was far too far to drive to amenities for my liking. Pass.

Then there was the country place that was called the “cow house” by our agent. Five acres and a massive, meandering house. Again in need of maintenance and much love. Too much of both were required for our taste. And there were no trees to speak of on the property. A definite dealbreaker.

There was the stunningly decorated “wow” house that t sat directly on a golf course. It had an adorable little lap pool. That deal fell apart over a misunderstanding about whether it was being sold “turnkey” or not. But we learned no furniture or decorations were included, as we initially thought. As tempting as it was, that deal fell through, too.

It is often said in real estate circles that buyers often know they have found “their” house within a few seconds after crossing the threshold. So it was with the house we recently chose. Perfection. For us. Until last week when trees began to fall.

When I wrote about my emotional evenhandedness in the face of lovely old oak trees coming down in front of our eyes and our old forest view being obliterated, I was kidding myself.

I now realize I was in shock. We had no forewarning of what was coming. I kept myself super busy on Friday just to get on the top of the situation and to quell my panic.

That denial fell away this morning when the dozers and chainsaws came back. When they were done, there was a huge hole in the view from our pool where there used to be lush greenery and old trees dripping with Spanish moss. And a pile of leveling dirt. The pain set in with a vengeance.

I am heartsick. And I realize that I am powerless. Except in how I react. And 72 hours later, I am reacting like a very sad and angry little girl. I am full of swear words and useless anger. So much for my great healing journey.

I know “this too shall pass.” Like other sudden losses and disappointments, this pain will lessen and change with time. We have talked to a landscaper to fill in the hole from our side with thick and fast-growing foliage.

So as much as I would like to experience all of life’s insults in a calm, beatific and philosophical evenhanded way, I have to accept I am only human.

It’s a sad and disappointing development. It is not the first time and will not be the last time that life throws me a curveball. I appreciate that it is also not the end of the story.

Best to shore up and fortify those emotional management skills now. Surprising to me is that short-term rage and anger appears to be one of them.

Crimping the Crust

This metaphor may be a stretch. However, I have lately started to compare my life to an apple pie. Not my absolute favorite pie but apple pie is among the top ten pies I love and easiest for most to identify with.

So let’s say our lives start out with your standard issue pie pan. Round and made out of glass or metal and in the case of one pan I have – cast iron. That one is a doozy.

The bottom crust is the environment you are poured into at birth: your family, your environment, the house you live in, whether you have or don’t have grandparents and extended family, and whether you have or don’t have money. All of these extraneous factors contribute to how you mature and grow.

Some elements are positive and support your growth. Like attentive grandparents or a kid-safe and friendly neighborhood with good schools and lots of activities to take part in. Your parents’ ability to pick and choose what you can experience is based on a lot of these things.

Other bottom crusts are not so nurturing. There not be enough money. The parents may have to work multiple jobs just to keep body and soul together. The kids’ needs get scanted or are simply not there. And add to that any afflictions: addiction, mental health issues, or a neighborhood awash in crime and violence.

Kids learn in this environment, too. But the lessons learned in this environment are usually more focused on survival and managing the negatives in their environment than striving for personal growth and maturity.

The filling is your life. As you get to adulthood, you begin to pick and choose what to put in your pie. Apples is an obvious choice. But you pick a career. A spouse. A home. A community. Your choices are more or less based on what the bottom crust of your life was.

People tend to stay in the same socio-economic group they were born into. Though the choices being made are shifting dramatically, people usually picked spouses from the same race or culture they came from and the opposite gender. That is all up for grabs and discussion these days. I am talking about a certain demographic.

As we mature and grow in our jobs, our marriages, and our communities, our choices may be challenged to conform more closely to who we are. Switching careers in mid-life. Choosing to end an unsatisfactory marriage. Maybe marriage to the wrong person and gender in line with who you really are.

As the filling is being made, there may be all kinds of additions and subtractions over the years like that which goes into any kind of baking or building. As we sift through life and get more certain about what stays and what goes, what works and what doesn’t – exclusively for us – our apple pie may be very different from someone else’s apple pie. Even though the basic ingredients are the same.

Eventually – if we’re lucky – we get to a point where we are comfortable putting on the upper crust and closing the pie to ready it for baking. We know who we are. The important choices have all been made. We allow into our lives who and what works for us. We kindly but firmly resist the intrusion of people, things, and experiences that we know will not serve us.

We get better at discriminating between what works and reinforces what is important to us and what doesn’t. Eventually, we learn we are satisfied enough and comfortable enough to stop striving and start fully enjoying our lives.

We crimp the crust of the pie – our lives – and contain what is important and reject what isn’t. Of course, this is not a perfect science. It is a crazy metaphor. The pie can fall and shatter. The crust might burn in spite of putting aluminum around the edges to protect it.

But lately, I have been thinking of it more and more about my life this way. I have put apples and raisins and walnuts and butter and brown sugar in the filling of my life. I am at the stage where I am ready to crimp the edges of the crust and enjoy the final product.

Crazy as the metaphor may be, I love apple pie. My mouth is watering at the thought. That suggests a life tolerably well-lived to me.