For the past few years, my husband and I lived in a rented
house located in his hometown. The
location was great and the rent was beyond cheap, but it would be kind to call
the house a fixer-upper. The roof leaked, the ceiling in the master bedroom was
so low that my husband once put his head through it while putting on a pair of
pants, we used one of the bathrooms as a closet because the plumbing was not
functional, and so many critters found their way in that we could have started
a wildlife sanctuary. In short, the house was a dump.
In the beginning, the landlord promised improvements. After
a couple of years of “I’ll fix it next month,” with no results, we began to
doubt his intent to improve or even maintain the property. At first, I tried to
make the best of it. I placed potted flowers on the sagging porch and hung
pictures over the holes in the walls, but after a while I realized that you
can’t polish a…well, you know.
From the start, there was a running joke among our friends
that the house was constantly on the verge of being condemned. In recent
months, it started to seem like that was a distinct possibility. While I kept
the house clean, we gave up on all but the absolutely necessary activities to
keep the building habitable.
When the landlord expressed an interest in selling our
rented house, we took it as a sign that renting was no longer for us. We needed
to buy a house of our own. I quickly found a local realtor and got our
financial ducks in a row. Within 6 weeks, we had closed on a small lakeside
cottage.
Throughout those 6 weeks, I dreamed of all the improvements
we would make. I envisioned extending the deck to capture more of the lovely
views of the water and fantasized about the elaborate meals I would prepare in
our cute little kitchen. Only when we moved in did it dawn on me, I really have
no idea how to keep house. The house should keep you, not the opposite, right?
Wrong.
Sure, I can cook and clean, but I am no Martha Stewart or
Bob Villa. Somehow, I managed to obtain a Master’s degree, but never learned the
proper way to hang a picture when thumb tacks won’t cut it. When my husband
remarked that the toilet wouldn’t stop running, I replied, “Well, go catch it!”
Even with the dads in our lives helping to make us handy-people, the learning
process is slower than I would have liked.
To hasten things along, I found a few helpful books. While
the Martha Stewart and Good Housekeeping titles are the standard, there are
some less well known books that tackle the subject of cleaning, maintenance,
and design in more manageable (i.e. less anxiety inducing) packages.
“House of Havoc” by Marni Jameson is quickly becoming my
housekeeping go-to. This book is full of well-organized tips that are firmly
rooted in the real world. While I would love to have fresh flowers on the
kitchen table every day, this books acknowledges that a less perishable
centerpiece looks better than a wilted vase of forgotten flowers.
As soon as I read the chapter on learning to master the
virtue of restraint in design, I knew that Marni Jameson would be my savior.
With the help of this book, I am learning that I don’t have to incorporate all
of the 87 mason jars left over from my wedding into my kitchen design just
because I have them. “Accessorize, don’t EXcessorize” is my new mantra.
While I haven’t decided if this is an unfortunate thing or
not, the fact is that our new house is smaller than our old rented house. With
that in mind, I picked up a couple of books on downsizing. The best one was
“Downsizing Your Home with Style,” by Lauri Ward. This book shows the reader
how to evaluate, arrange, decorate, and live in smaller spaces. Her “never
keep” list gave me a good starting point for what to toss or donate, but I
think I will ignore that tip about recycling “unread books you never seem to
get around to reading.”
The most helpful of the books I picked up contained
virtually no instructions or advice, but it reminded me that the most important
thing about housekeeping is the house keeper. “Dirt,” edited by Mindy Lewis is
a collection of stories about the quirks of housekeeping, but also about the
people that perform (or in some cases, don’t perform) the tasks that keep a
house tidy. This book helped me to remember that there is real personal meaning
behind menial household tasks.
It will probably take more than a few good books to become a
real domestic diva and we will likely make many mistakes while turning our new
house into a home. Nevertheless, we are thrilled to have a place to call our
own- a place with ceilings high enough for a grown man to be able to get
dressed without the threat of a concussion.
