Ten Years since it all Started at Grandma’s House

Ten years have passed since I took my first step into this home when it wasn’t just Grandma’s house anymore – it was my house. Ten years since I started this little blog! Lodi joined me in early 2019 so he’s marking his five years here this year. I know we all say it, but doesn’t it all go by in a blink? Ten years since I began renovating this house alone – I was terrified. I was also thrilled though. And there is something to be said about that kind of excitement. It drowns out fear. It makes you brave. I just couldn’t wait to see what this home could become.

This house didn’t intimidate me like I think it should have.

I was all of 28 years old with the plan to do everything myself.

I suppose it was probably because it was my Grandma’s house – the first time I ever came in here I was a baby. It was always a safe place that I had loved my entire life.

I feel like I should have at least been worried about screwing it up… but I never felt that way either.

The feeling that this place would forgive me and wait for me to fix it or finish it has always been with me. I myself that often when I get hassled or stressed about some project I want to complete ASAP, “It will wait for me.”

Few things are actual emergencies to allow them to disturb our peace… (such as our sceptic going out last year… ugh)

I did have some renovation experience before this but the times when I was in brand new territory I felt like the house was holding my hand along the way.

Like we were figuring it out together.

Restoring her and maturing me.

Making her younger while absolutely making me older lol.

I remember, ten years ago, it was almost midnight one Friday night and I was alone upstairs here working on the master bedroom. It was after the “gutting” had finally been completed and all of the tremendous clean up was done and I was FINALLY no longer tearing down but building forward.

In fact, that night, I was building one of the closets in the master bedroom and had just finished it and turned off the racket of the air compressor.

It was so quiet and cozy. There was no electric in the house yet so it was also kind of moody with just me and my one little shop light.

I sat down in the middle of the floor because finishing the closet had been my goal for the night.

It was one of many occasions during the renovation that I just hung out with the house. Not working on it… just sitting. Many times it was because I was beat from working on it (lol) but there were other times when I just took it in.

She was such a beautiful home, the fact that she was mine often just took my breath away. I was so thankful to have her. It was the first time in my life I had ever had a home that was just mine.

I had never before felt so safe in a place. No one could kick me out of here, no one could tell me what to do here or how to live here.

Of course the renovation pretty much beat the grateful out of me (I’m mostly kidding…) there were some moments when the job was just SO fricking hard and it just never felt like it would end.

Of course it did though.

That room is still my favorite room in the house and maybe its because of that one moment late that night that I remember so clearly. I was really happy that night. I felt content for what may have been the first time in my adult life.

Despite all of the ups and downs of the renovation and all the rough times that I had to get through to get to that moment – I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

And I was just so fricking relieved to have finally made it there.

I really did manage to get myself home.

And I’m still here 🙂