Friday, June 20, 2003
STUCK ON THE STAIRCASE, Sex and Lies continued... Wednesday, June 11, 2003
The dream house needed work. It's like getting to know a new lover. In the first 5 seconds of the encounter there is the zap that tells you whether or not this is worth pursuing. If the feelings are consumated, then the real work of building something begins.
We invested everything we had in that house. Before moving in Pete and I painted over the rainbow walls (all 9 rooms), sanded all the floors (I'll never forget the part where we used this tacky cloth and on our hands and knees wiped up every speck of dust before we polyurethaned)and wallpapered the bedrooms. Erika picked pink flowers with a ribbon border. I have a vivid memory of us all in her room while Pete teeters on a ladder pasting this wallpaper border where the ceiling meets the wall.
The house had everything that all the houses of my childhood didn't. There were 3 porches with curved overhangs and carved wooden railings. There were working fireplaces with mantels and big bay windows that filtered in light from every direction. Perhaps the most unique feature was the circular staircase to the bedrooms on the second floor. It also had a slate roof that leaked. We tried everything we could to save it and finally gave up. It was like a death in the family the day the roofers came and pulled off all that 100 year old slate and replaced it with asphalt shingle.
At some point we actually just started living in the house. Much of the work had been done and the rest never got done. The first spring we were there we had a big party in the yard for Erika's seventh birthday. We strung balloons everywhere. Pete loved being the ringmaster at the kid's parties. He strung up some contraption with a waterbag on Erika's swing set. He sat under it with a beer in his hand while the kids tried to pull the string that would dump all the water on his head. The kids thought it was hysterical. I felt sad.
We were like a strange tribe in our upper class neighborhood. That fall Pete went hunting and bagged a deer, a big deer. He brought it home on the roof of the van and hung it from a limb on the tree in our side yard. It had been gutted and it had to hang for a day or two to let the blood drain before he had it butchered. We ate everything he shot or trapped or caught on a fishing line (except shark). At the time I didn't think about it but the neighbors must've hated us. Erika had guinea pigs and a rabbit, a gorgeous rabbit that lived in a hutch Pete built behind the garage. Pete also brought Erika a small lamb that she kept for a while as a pet. That fall she dressed up as Little Bo Peep and went trick or treeting, door to door, with her dad and her sheep.
Winter came down on us that year and it was tough keeping the house warm. Heating bills were astronomical. The kids were always cold. Then the blizzard of '78 struck. The city came to a halt. I was just trying to keep up with the housework, the laundry, the cooking, the dirt. There is a stark moment. I have a basket of clothes in my hands. I'm standing in the middle of the staircase. I have forgotten if I was going up - or - down.
The dream house needed work. It's like getting to know a new lover. In the first 5 seconds of the encounter there is the zap that tells you whether or not this is worth pursuing. If the feelings are consumated, then the real work of building something begins.
We invested everything we had in that house. Before moving in Pete and I painted over the rainbow walls (all 9 rooms), sanded all the floors (I'll never forget the part where we used this tacky cloth and on our hands and knees wiped up every speck of dust before we polyurethaned)and wallpapered the bedrooms. Erika picked pink flowers with a ribbon border. I have a vivid memory of us all in her room while Pete teeters on a ladder pasting this wallpaper border where the ceiling meets the wall.
The house had everything that all the houses of my childhood didn't. There were 3 porches with curved overhangs and carved wooden railings. There were working fireplaces with mantels and big bay windows that filtered in light from every direction. Perhaps the most unique feature was the circular staircase to the bedrooms on the second floor. It also had a slate roof that leaked. We tried everything we could to save it and finally gave up. It was like a death in the family the day the roofers came and pulled off all that 100 year old slate and replaced it with asphalt shingle.
At some point we actually just started living in the house. Much of the work had been done and the rest never got done. The first spring we were there we had a big party in the yard for Erika's seventh birthday. We strung balloons everywhere. Pete loved being the ringmaster at the kid's parties. He strung up some contraption with a waterbag on Erika's swing set. He sat under it with a beer in his hand while the kids tried to pull the string that would dump all the water on his head. The kids thought it was hysterical. I felt sad.
We were like a strange tribe in our upper class neighborhood. That fall Pete went hunting and bagged a deer, a big deer. He brought it home on the roof of the van and hung it from a limb on the tree in our side yard. It had been gutted and it had to hang for a day or two to let the blood drain before he had it butchered. We ate everything he shot or trapped or caught on a fishing line (except shark). At the time I didn't think about it but the neighbors must've hated us. Erika had guinea pigs and a rabbit, a gorgeous rabbit that lived in a hutch Pete built behind the garage. Pete also brought Erika a small lamb that she kept for a while as a pet. That fall she dressed up as Little Bo Peep and went trick or treeting, door to door, with her dad and her sheep.
Winter came down on us that year and it was tough keeping the house warm. Heating bills were astronomical. The kids were always cold. Then the blizzard of '78 struck. The city came to a halt. I was just trying to keep up with the housework, the laundry, the cooking, the dirt. There is a stark moment. I have a basket of clothes in my hands. I'm standing in the middle of the staircase. I have forgotten if I was going up - or - down.
