Our attic is BIG, roughly 1600 square feet, and rises 1.5 stories above the rest of the house. When we moved in 9 years ago, it was filled with all sorts of stuff. Built-in cabinets and shelving, semi-framed walls, and lots and lots of flies. The space had served as a workshop and storage area for the former owner whose fondness for collecting left it filled to the brim. Wood was everywhere; stacked in piles, propped against surfaces, arranged on the floor. Honestly it was hard to see the forest for all the trees. Here’s what it looked like in 2009.
You know how it feels when you’re so dog-tired you’re almost delusional?
You know how it feels when you’re falling in love? At first, it’s all hot and heavy and you can hardly think of anything but being with the other person. You live them, breathe them, you almost want to EAT them! But things eventually steady. The boil, though still burning, simmers down and you start to see stuff you hadn’t seen before. And often it’s these subtleties that’ll either END IT or enchant you all the more.
What do you do when there’s nothing left to do? When you’ve exhausted all options, done all that’s possible, and yet desperately ache to do something?
I wish I knew.
What do you get when you cross a man, a woman, a 250 year old house, and a big green insulation machine? Labor and Delivery, Dole House Style!
I’ve been having a conversation the past several weeks with the president of our local neighborhood association. My issue? Many homeowners along the main arterial through our neighborhood are neglecting to clear their sidewalks of snow, not just following a storm, but ever. Being that we live in MAINE, where we tend to get a lot of snow, this is a serious safety concern.