Singing Dem Doggone Demo Blues
The old house had suffered long years of abuse and neglect when I first came to visit. I felt an immediate connection between us. Abandoned and ill-treated, it called out for a loving restoration. And, I committed myself to provide it with the highest level of care.
Now, six weeks into the restoration process, I am at a real low point. Everything is a mess. And, as Dorothy Parker noted, “It’s not the tragedies that kill us; it’s the messes.”
The yard is rutted, the concrete patio has been destroyed, the walls and ceilings are riddled with jagged cuts, and there are piles of trash everywhere.
I am overwhelmed an saddened by the destruction. This is not what I envisioned.
My contractor assures me that this is all quite necessary and a normal part of the renovation process. But, I can’t help but wish that it could be a cleaner, gentler process. Even as a child, I craved quiet and order. Mostly, I found it in books, but this is real life – distressingly real.
Patching should begin next week. Until it does, I am stuck singing ‘dem doggone demo blues.
Was this all a mistake? I can’t think so. I am too far into this journey to turn back. I have invested too much of everything: time, sweat, money, dreams, sleepless nights, and general stress. My cortisol levels have reached new highs.
I have to see the process to its end, no matter what chaos reigns at the moment. I am not letting this mess turn into a tragedy.