Fast track to the edge of sanity: Life lessons in a home restoration

We started watching renovation shows just before we started looking for a new home. We were trying to make the tough decision of “love it or list it” without the advantage of a large renovation budget for our almost 20-year old home. We learned some cool tricks (like the sliding barn door my husband installed in the master bedroom) and tips that in the end increased the value of our home so we could “list it” even while we still loved it.

Our new house was vacant for close to 10 years. We had a lot of work to do; moving walls to make the ground floor bathroom more accessible and create an “open-concept” kitchen with new countertops and fixtures, new lighting, a fresh coat of paint throughout the house and replacing all the floors.

Demo-day was fun. Johanna even got down and dirty, helping me to pull up the old flooring in her room. But her favorite part was shouting, “This walls gotta go!” as she smashed through a living room wall in true “Fixer Upper” fashion.

Our original estimates for the renovation were two or three weeks from demolition to move-in date. Two months later, we still have work to do. We moved in the day before a massive blizzard hit the East End. We were moving furniture and boxes until the first flakes fell. Thankfully a dear friend shopped for me so we would have food when we got snowed in.

Our first 24 hours in our new home were magical. It’s a contemporary with cathedral ceilings and windows all around. Watching the snow fall and encircle the house in the swirling blizzard winds, looked like we are living in a snowglobe. We were warm from the inside out.

The next 24 hours, the reality of home renovation came crashing in, as I woke up to frigid cold air. I was huddled in Johanna’s bed with her, because the master bedroom was still under construction and because she would need assistance finding her way at night. All three dogs climbed into the double bed. When the cat joined us I knew there had to be something amiss.

Remember — when everyone else was running to the store and calling for oil deliveries the day before the blizzard — we were moving? Well, we should have had a professional check the oil gauge on our double oil tank. It was reading half-full. To those of us who are optimistic and not familiar with oil heat, we thought that meant we had a tank of oil. We were wrong.

Restoring a house that was left empty for years is hard work. But beyond the blood, sweat and tears, there are also some life lessons worthy of noting along the way. So here you go:

Restoration is hard work and it takes longer than you imagine — take your time and do it well.
I am an eternal optimist — sometimes to a fault. I had expectation of how long this project would take. It didn’t help that HGTV episodes are resolved in 60 minutes. As time and delays increased, I had to learn to adjust our plans and focus on the details I could control like what we were having for dinner, what colors to paint the accent walls and how and when to schedule the movers.

Restoration always costs more than you think — plan ahead.
Thankfully, we budgeted from the sale of our previous home knowing that our new home would need a greater investment of our time and our money. Still, only days after moving in and losing the heat during the blizzard with sub-zero temperatures, my husband informed me that it was raining in our garage. I didn’t quite believe him until he opened the door and a I heard what sounded like a pelting summer rain in the garage-only it was 5-below outside and snowing. A pipe burst and water was pouring out through the ceiling.

We no longer have a basement. So most of our stuff, including a computer and a printer/copier, summer clothes, dishes, etc., were all temporarily being stored in the garage when the rains came. We moved what we could and our friend, the HVAC guy, came quickly to the rescue. We’ll deal with the damage in the spring.

Restoration is always messier than it looks — dress appropriately and go with the flow. Wear masks and gloves.
In the absence of a human presence in the vacant house, the rodent and reptile population readily moved in. There were mice droppings everywhere and even a mouse in the toilet. We hired an exterminator who assured me his methods were safe for kids and pets — until our 18-month-old puppy found and ate the puppy-proof trap that was set for the mice.

Thankfully the dogs are fine with medical treatment and getting rid of the traps.

They were well on the mend when the next wave of excrement hit. Raw sewage bubbled up from the first floor bathroom shower and toilet which rendered our accessible bathroom inaccessible to all.

Stuff happens.
Before the septic guy arrived, I took some time to myself. My husband and my daughter were still asleep. I’d given the dogs their anti-poison antidotes. I finished washing and drying the wet sheets and blankets from the rained out garage. Now it was time to gear up for the next hurdle.

With my cup of coffee in one hand and my rosary in the other, I started laughing hysterically. Really. It was all so absurd that I couldn’t even pray. Lest you think I walk around my home like Snow White, singing to the birds and chatting cheerfully with the mice, laughter tends to be the sign that I have tipped over the edge into insanity.

But there I was — sipping coffee while raw sewage covered my newly renovated bathroom — insane and laughing and all the happier for it.

On the brink of insanity, steadying my cup of my coffee as my body shook with laughter, I recognized the lessons we were learning about restoring houses can readily be applied to life.

The joys and struggles of my life over the past half-century, raising a family and a child who is medically fragile, dealing with job losses, financial crises, and grieving the loss of loved ones, had all prepared me well to deal with renovating our new home..

While I couldn’t necessarily control the floods, the freezing temperature, the rodents and the raw sewage — or my laughter — I could control my response.

Psalm 51:12 reads, “Restore to me the joy of your salvation and uphold me with a willing spirit.”

I know a thing or two about restoration because my God restores my joy and gives me the will to keep going — even when times are tough.

I rose from my morning laughter and prayer and made a plan to cooperate with the restoration of my home and my heart. I gathered the tools of my trade — my bible, a crucifix, holy water and blessed salt and began to walk around the house singing praises to God.

When the septic guy arrived, I toned it down a little, so as to not scare him away. But when he opened the cesspool cover, I asked him if he minded if I prayed around him while he worked. He shook his head, and said, “Whatever works. It can’t hurt.”

I poured an extra measure of holy water and blessed salt into the cesspool and septic line. I believe the septic lines opened with the expert care of the professional and with prayer.

As we restore this house, the Lord restores my joy and gives me a willing spirit. It’s all hard work that is a little easier with laughter and prayer.