With My Time

July 6, 2013

When I bought my house in Portland I had romantic fantasies about becoming one of those old men living in the mountains who steadily, over the years, at night with an aluminum work light,
silent, odd, meticulous, fixes his old house little by little until he is surrounded by a masterpiece.
But I was too afraid of fucking up to even start.
Now I have a second chance at the fantasy and I’m giving it a real go. I’m not silent and I’m certainly not odd by Santa Cruz standards, but I am “working on my house” except that my house is multiple houses and now, with the start of a demo job, two more.

One three bedroom turn-of-the-century house
Two two bedroom stuccos
One longhouse (community kitchen and bath)
One A-frame cabin
One square-frame cabin
One trailer
+
The demolition of an old barn and house built with square nails and sided in vertical 1×12 redwood boards.

My hands are so sore at the end of the day that I let them dangle off the chair arms like rubber gloves.

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