I have lived in Goldfinch Barn longer than any other abode, apart from the house I grew up in on Kluttz Road in North Carolina. Since 2006 it truly has been a love/hate relationship as a result of our choice to renovate from scratch. A work colleague once thought, when I told her we had no windows in our bedrooms, that I meant we had large gaping holes, letting the elements in so snow would accumulate at the foot of our bed. It never was that bad, but it was close.
Yesterday before work I looked out the window and noticed the late April frost which seemed to creep up the hill and stop just below our fence. It looked as if it had spared our little section of land. This made me think of the idea of "ownership" and how 5 years spent in one house engenders a marriage between human and habitation. It made me think that ownership, in the big scheme, is an illusion because none of what we "own" has any real permanence.
When I moved to the UK I heard more than I ever did before a description of someone as being "house proud". I heard my mother-in-law describe how her auntie would diligently sweep their section of sidewalk because woe betide! it appear the slightest bit untidy. On one level I understand -- this is a small island and people like to show pride in the parts of themselves and what is theirs that are on display. "Cleanliness is next to godliness"... and all that.
For anyone who knows me well they know tidiness is not one of my virtues. I usually have a frenzy before any expected guests arrive where I have to meditate and invoke my inner Mitzi (I love you Mom) to guide me to the messy places. My car has been known to house over long periods of time strange things such as brooms, socks without partners and a lone bag of rice. My mind does not work in an ordered manner. I find it very difficult to view a room in my house and decide what needs done to make it look ordered. Intense concentration is required in these situations.
After spending a number of years in one house you do come to know that house like the back of your hand. I know which room is the warmest, which one holds the smell of cooking longest and how light travels through rooms as the day passes. My time in Goldfinch Barn has taught me how sandstone feels to the touch and how it traps heat. I learned where dust collects and how long spells of rain swells the wood. I adore the Spring in these parts and Winter fills me with a faint dread coupled with a determination to endure.
For now, I am on the right side of the Summer equinox so I will go sow some seeds and get my hands dirty. I may find some time to tidy up later too. (Mom will have her fingers crossed)
Lots of love,
Laura
A stately photo of Georgie, quite unlike him.
No comments:
Post a Comment