Making a Home

“And so I take my love of good details from my mother...as I worked on the house in Port Townsend, I finally began to understand my mother’s quest for the perfect Christmas tree--the desire to find art in the everyday, when everyday is the palette you were given.” —Erica Bauermeister, House Lessons

I have no idea why I love books about home renovation. It’s certainly not because I possess any special gift for it. When Joe and I started looking for a home to buy, we rejected one that we both loved because the counter tiles were ugly and the carpet needed replaced, and we didn’t want to have to figure it all out. 

But I really do love memoirs about home renovation, including this year’s House Lessons by Erica Bauermeister, a meditative collection of short essays on the renovation of a house in Port Townsend, and by extension, the renovation of the author’s life. 

I loved the symmetry of the book and the way the author learned to listen, both to her home and to her life. It takes such bravery to look at your life deeply, to recognize what important things need to be done, and then to just do them, although you might feel silly or it might be very difficult. I take the easy path often, running too quickly and shouting too loudly to hear what my life is saying to me. Slowing down takes a long time to learn.

But I really loved what she had to say about home. I’m interested in the ways we put down roots, both intentionally and not, and how we choose the place we will make our home. I love my house, but sometimes I look around at the shape of the living room and wonder at how much I didn’t know when we bought this place.

And yet. On Saturday morning after breakfast, everyone picks up the detritus of the last few days that we have been too busy and tired to see before. I start laundry while Joe clears the counter of mail and the kids shovel toys and books and clothes back into their rooms. Then I walk through the living room, my eyes sweeping down the entryway to the piano, across the books on the coffee table, and I think, we live here. It’s a good house. This is home.

Our making of a home was not slow and deliberate like Erica Bauermeister’s. There was no long debate over types of faucets or light fixtures or placement of outlets. But slowly, picture by picture, moment by moment, we have created a home here, one in which we all feel free to be ourselves, to carve out space for us, to grow and to relax and to dream. There is plenty of space on the walls for the next vision, and plenty of room on the rug for the next LEGO building day. There’s a wide back porch facing an old, draping tree. There’s a guy on the couch reading a book, and a couple of kids laughing together over the stories they’re writing. It’s exactly where I want to be.

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