Woodstock Area Job Bank

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This past weekend, we took our five-year-old granddaughter to see the new summer house in Maine.  We finally own it.  The first thing my husband did was to rip out one of the walls in the little office downstairs so we could enlarge it for our bedroom.  To do that, he had to rip out a little back hall, and since that created a dead space behind the toilet, rip out the bathroom to make use of that additional space.  While he was at it, we decided to rip out a wall between the  kitchen and a sitting room.  We won’t be doing the kitchen renovation any time soon but once you start ripping, it’s hard to stop.  Needless to say the house is now a mess.

When we arrived, Kierra was very quiet.  

“What’s wrong,” I asked. “Don’t you like the house?”

“YaYa, it’s a mess.  Why are you leaving your nice house to live in this one?”

Out of the mouths of babes. Sometimes I have the same feeling.  This new house is a money pit.  We expected it and we are excited by the challenge of it.  We are also sometimes overwhelmed: and wondering why are we blowing up our comfortable life? Sometimes I have nightmares, wondering where the vacuum cleaner will go in the new little house.

I patiently tried, to explain “In this house you have to use your imagination. This attic room, with its sloped ceilings, will be a bunk room for you and your cousins when you come to visit.   Imagine four little beds.”

I point to spots in the empty dusty room, “Each bed a different color—a pink bed, an orange bed, a blue bed and a yellow bed.  All the beds will have fish sheets, a white cover and a cozy wool blanket at the end.”  

“Like the blankets you have in Vermont?”

“Yes.  The floors will be painted a shiny grey and there will be a big cabinet over here for your toys and some of YaYa’s wool.”

“Can we put a rug by the cabinet?”

“Yes.”

“Can it be a rainbow rug?”

“Yes.  How about the round rug that sits in front of the fireplace in the old house?”

“That’s my favorite.”

Pretty soon Kierra, was leading the charge, mess forgotten.

“ And who will sleep in here?”

“That’s Sadie’s room.”

“Will she bring her purple bed?”

“Yes.”

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