The night I signed the papers to rent this little house anxiety flooded my heart. This  1924 home was so run down that my landlord hinted “strongly” that, while I seemed certain of my decision because this place was affordable, he had a much more renovated home I could rent. This neglected house had a weed filled lawn and pipes that freeze solid in -40 temperatures. I’m still not sure if it will be warm this winter because of ancient insulation and single pane glass. The basement walls are merely slabs of concrete butted up against the frozen ground.

But the voice inside my heart and my head whispered that this was the place, my home and it would not be ignored. But then the terror set in.. would my furniture fit, there’s no garage, how would I get large boxes down the narrow staircase to the basement for storage, how could all my cooking tools and spices fit in a kitchen 1/8th the size of my last place?

But I can be impulsive, influenced by a sometimes romantic (albeit inaccurate) intuition and “signs” that seemed to indicate that this was where I should live. Truly, though, I fell in love the minute I saw Bella run wild with excitement straight in the front door and up into the arms of the current tenant living there. We had, indeed, arrived home.

With project after project, I’ve begun bringing this place back to life.. and that was when I discovered the real gift and probably the instinct that drew me here in the first place:  I’d actually dragged my own run down and neglected self into this home, into a place of healing. And I’ve learned that even in a tiny home there is always enough room for anything that is truly important.

I’ve lost friends along the way, but I’ve brought new ones here. And I’m so careful, now, about choosing who gets to be in my life and who gets to come into this home. It’s a decision I consciously make every single time.

I’m still struggling to change how I see myself, to love the person I am and who I am becoming. I’ve learned that much of what I’d been told and subsequently believed about myself was just plain wrong.

I’m learning that what is meant to be.. just will, without effort, without force, often without the best of plans.. like discovering two perfectly spaced hooks between two evergreen trees that were just waiting for the hammock I brought home, or how my chaise fit perfectly in the glassed-in porch, so lovely for morning coffees. Even my kitchen table fit in that little room with some creative squishing of people and chairs.

Project after project, book after book I’ve analyzed and researched to find new ways of becoming, new ways of being in a world where everyone else seemed to have it all figured out except me.

And I’m so, so grateful for the help I’ve had:

• my parents are so positive, even though this place looked so rough at first and how they pointed out all of the vintage features that they once had in their homes
• all the times my kids call to check in, come by and stay with me or snuggle Bella
• my brothers who helped me get all of the technical stuff right, who said tomorrow is always a new day; my sister-in-law who gave me some of her crabapple jelly when I couldn’t make my own
• the friend who walked me through the actual decision to move and reassured me that he liked this place more than the last
• another friend that told me she knew this definitely was the right decision because she saw how my face lit up and heard the excitement in my voice when I took her through, right before I moved in
• the landscaper who gives me honest advice on how to get things done around the yard because he knew I had to do it myself
• the friend that gave up an afternoon to sand and paint my fence, especially the trim up high where he knew I couldn’t reach and
• being shown that even in this tiny kitchen with the most minimal of tools a truly beautiful meal can be created and shared

I am truly so, so grateful..

With every lovingly brushed coat of paint I’ve felt my own self being renewed. It’s an emotional process, even in writing this, but this place is becoming a home, a creation that is starting to reveal the new person I am becoming.. and I’m so excited that I’m still not done.

Love,

Barbara ♥