When you rehab an old house there is decision upon decision
requiring your head and heart to find the balance
between dollar and dream
between stretching the budget and protecting the old girls' soul...
The rehab of this old farm house, lovely old girl that she is, hinges
(for me)
on restoration, reclamation, rejuvenation ~ not altering renovation
I love 'the old' of her
creaky doors, wide-plank floors, wavy windowed glass
leaded panels, old brass handles, ghosts and crows that sass...
Every (single) time the heating fuel truck rolls to a stop out front
under the maples that touch the sky bare branched
I wince
under the maples that touch the sky bare branched
I wince
It's never pretty when I see the meter read
of how much the old girl consumes to keep us warm(ish)
I'm so often advised to
"replace those old windows and doors &
it'll save you a fortune in the winter!"
No doubt it would...
But how could I wrent from her these?
No.... Never...
Can not. Will not.
She's watched the world pass with these
for a hundred and forty years.
Her pride, her history.
My joy every day as I gaze thru or walk thru.
No - I say they stay.
(as I pull on another warm sweater)...
