Here’s a fun one for a Friday: As an owner of an old house… did you take the tried and true advice to “listen to what your house says it wants” before making updates or remodels?
- If so: What did your house tell you — and how did that affect your plans?
- Flip side: Did you not take the time to listen to your house… and make a rash decision you later regretted?
It’s pretty clear what the fabulous evaxebra’s old apartment was telling her: Don’t you dare mess with the pink bathroom!
Emma says
We moved into our 1949 mid modest house last January and started doing small changes right away. I don’t think the previous owners were much for listening- the bathroom and kitchen were remodeled but are so far out of touch with the era and the rest of the rooms in the house. We painted the outside and inside more cheerful, era appropriate, colors and have been hard work ever since. Whenever we go to make a decision about something, we tend to anthropomorphize our house. There’s some things our house just doesn’t like, even if we do. If we don’t have the house’s seal of approval, it’s a no go. 🙂
Ginger says
My house had horrible nicknames in the area: “house with the green pool” (from algae), “hoarder house”, “the one with the bat problem”, and my personal favourite “murder den”. It was in bad shape, neglected for years and owned by a family with serious problems. Three boarded up windows, carpenter ants, ugly awnings, bad wood panelling, bad diy work from the 70s… We moved in and took off the awnings, the whole house filled with sunlight. It’s like we ripped the oppression off an abused space and found a happy little home underneath. It’s been five years but we’ve almost finished renovating our home (complete with a black and white bath inspired by here!). We get told all the time that it’s a. Neighbourhood favorite, it’s amazing how easy it was to leave the old nicknames behind.
Ginger says
Oh and! The pool! I h**** (edited) it, wanted to fill it in. But no, just no. The house wanted to keep its little pond.
Mary Elizabeth says
This sounds like my friends’ “animal house,” complete with carpenter ants (and termites), bats and squirrels in the attic, mice in the kitchen, and the swampy pool. It actually had salamanders living in it, which was kind of cool. As I recall, she and her kids caught them all and relocated them to a real pond in the woods.
Good for you for finding and restoring the house. I think houses are like people–most can be rehabilitated with the right treatment.
Susie Q. says
You’re a brave soul to undertake so much! I’m glad you rescued your house.
Jeff Pierce says
I have listened, and I have ignored. I have gotten a project finished, and I have lived in an unfinished house for too long.
With hindsight, I would say it’s better to listen. At least then, you’re doing no harm. My very unique 1947 home has every colonial piece of trim I could nail onto it. New, clad six-over-six windows replacing the steel originals and a porch befitting Tara tacked on the back. What a mistake! But, things at 51 look a lot different than they did at 26.
My beautiful 1939 Cape Cod in 100% original condition now belongs to someone else because u couldn’t make up my mind what to do with it. The entire time I lived there, it was drafty, dusty and dingy. But, for some reason, I really miss it, sometimes.
Lisa says
Please give this same consideration to the landscaping, too. When I see folks move in to a house and start hacking away at the landscaping, it makes me sad. Try as hard as you can to make it through an entire growing season to see what you have first. A bush that looks scraggly in the fall may be the most beautiful bloomer in April.
Mary Elizabeth says
So true, Lisa! I waited for two years for something to come up, and all I got was a nice lawn and a bunch of daffodils out back, which the deer ate the first day they bloomed. Then I found out the house wanted a tiny garden in front and liked the woods and grass in the back for the deer to live on.
Kate says
Yes, unless your yard was like mine — so overgrown the trees and shrubs were overtaking the house! Our home inspector told us to trim back severely or remove many of the trees and shrubs ASAP after we bought the place to avoid damage to the house.
http://retroranchrevamp.com/2010/07/18/our-retro-ranch/
Scott says
So true Lisa! Some things can’t be saved but many others, no how massive they have become can be groomed back into shape. A few things in my yard are original equipment with others being transplants from my parents and grandparents. I may be weird but I think you can get as emotionally attached to a yard as you can a house itself.
Rudy says
I like this concept. With my last three houses, right after moving in, all my friends were asking when the remodel would start. I told them I need to live in the house for about a year so it can tell me what it needs. They all seemed confused by the statement. Some things I H**** (edited) about the house sometimes turned into ” Oh that’s why they did it this way.” Anyway, patience in remodeling is a virtue.
Mary Elizabeth says
Some lines might look odd. Sorry the italics and other features didn’t translate into this format. (P.S. Dorothy and Mike are the deceased original owners, which is clear in the context of the other poems.)
Mary Elizabeth says
We’re listening to our house all right. Here is a poem from my forthcoming poetry book _Permanent Guests_:
REDECORATING WITH DOROTHY AND MIKE
They don’t speak to us directly
or move about at night like poltergeists,
hiding paint chips or wall tile samples
(though we sometimes wonder how
that floor covering brochure disappeared).
But whenever we discuss
ripping out a wall or a window,
covering linoleum with wood,
or choosing a new kitchen sink,
we seem to have contrary inspirations.
Waiting to be plowed out after a blizzard,
we decide to keep the Mamie pink tub
and pink and gray tile instead of updating
the bath. Weeks later, a matching sink
appears at a plumbing warehouse.
Our tastes have changed since we moved
into this house. We have adopted
two cats and a nineteen fifties aesthetic—
tole lamps, calico curtains, knotty pine,
handmade quilts, laminate counters.
We tell our friends (and ourselves)
we’re being thrifty—we could spend
our renovation money on college funds
for grandchildren, buy a new camper,
vacation in the Maritime Provinces.
Instead of We want, we find ourselves
saying, We think this house wants.
Somehow the basement summer kitchen
suggested we buy canning supplies
and five pecks of fresh peaches.
The front door needed to be painted
an historic New England burgundy.
The back yard called for a clothes line,
the old-fashioned rotary kind, handmade
of wood and rope by Amish carpenters.
The house wanted a picture window
overlooking the woods, a gas fireplace,
to warm the sleeping cats. They startle,
stare at the front door we never use,
as if hearing a key in the lock.
(c) 2015 Mary Elizabeth Lang
pam kueber says
Oh my word. You continue to AMAZE ME, Mary Elizabeth. Just AMAZE! This is awesome beyond belief! Do you have more poems about your new/old house in your upcoming book??? THANK YOU for sharing this with us, I am so honored!
Kate says
Bravo Mary E! 🙂
LuAnn says
Wow…just wow. Love your poetry, Mary Elizabeth! 🙂
Mary Elizabeth says
Thank you all. It’s the house talking. I just listen. 🙂
Jay says
Lovely! Sounds like the poetic version of Pam’s Mid Century Modest Manifesto. Especially like the line about not using the front door – in true New England fashion!
Siri Stanley says
o how i love what you wrote!
my front door remains unused.
and i never have to apologize!
Sally says
I’m not even a “Poetry person,” but I LOVE your poem!!!
Kathie says
Beautiful poem, spoken so true. You’re a fine listener.
Jamie says
We just bought a 1963 ranch home. The kitchen is a disaster with u*** [edited] laminate cabinets – and there is a 1970s mural of Paris on the living room wall. Yet, I’m reluctant to dive in. We painted the outside and fixed the basics, and I’m waiting to see what is next. In our first home, our 1940s bungalow, we did crazy things. We made a back vineyard patio that we never used and fixed up the basement, which promptly flooded. We are slower now, but wiser I think.
pam kueber says
A mural of Paris on the wall! We love murals here! https://retrorenovation.com/search-results/?q=mural
db says
With our first house – we did not listen; we started remodeling (kitchen gut) before we even moved in, and continued with another major project (adding bathroom and finishing the basement) before we’d even been there a year.
While things worked out okay, and I don’t regret the projects, we are taking a different approach with our second house.
We start our first big renovation later this month, nearly two years after moving.
For us, taking the time to see how we live in this new house has guided decisions, allowed us more time to research and acquire materials, and I’m more confident in our plans.
midmichigan says
After repeated lessons, I’ve learned to listen to my wife first. She’ll tell me what the house is saying.
Steve H says
Sounds like she’s the House Whisperer
CorgiMom says
I think my husband would say the same thing!