It's in the details

I'm not sure if this is normal or not, but I have something of a love-hate relationship with my house. I hate the mess of remodeling and restoration. I hate the dust, the weird things that the POs did, the mismatched and missing woodwork, the paneling, ceiling tiles and wallpaper that were only in style for about 10 minutes. I hate the new replacement windows (though I thank God that they're at least wood!), the clutter, the unpacked boxes in the basement. I hate that it's my fault I haven't gotten farther on the restoration. I hate that I'm sometimes lazty about working on the house, and the things I desperately want to do cost too much money to do them RIGHT NOW. But none of the things I hate are the house's fault, and most of them are a result of people screwing it up and removing original elements.

But I love the plinth blocks and the little scrolly piece that sits above the baseboard and dresses it up.

I love the refinished pine floors that just glow when the sun shines on them. Polyurethane just can't compare to shellac.

I love how the living room has enough windows that it feels more like a porch than a room.

I love that the builders took enough pride in their woork to include matching woodwork in the closets.

I love the doorknobs and backplates.

I love the heat registers.

I love the wavy plaster walls and can't imagine tearing them out to put in drywall.

I love how this house has shown me I can do things other people think aren't worth doing (but then they're amazed with the results). I love how we're learning that bigger isn't better, and that we can simplfy our lives to adapt to our home. I love how this house forces me to slow down, to think about how I can do more with less, and reminds me that what I do will affect the people who come after us. I love that our first house might just be our last.