Painful to watch house be torn apart, even though it needs it! Sad to see how the builder of the 1985 addition we are salvaging scrimped on materials as present master carpenter on this project has been pointing out. (He wanted to tear that part down as well as he saw it as shoddy. To save $1000’s, we decided to reinforce it and save it. )
I have been reflecting on the wonder, the mystery of so much good living I have done in the past sheltered by a house full of construction mistakes. Part of me is confused. The confused part believes that nothing good could have happened in surroundings that were so imperfect. (I am noticing that “good”/”bad” is happening where ever one “tunes in” all the time!) Flaws and imperfection abound, to our way of perceiving. Now I am reminded of the common occurence among folks struggling in relationship – especially in the “endings” of relationships – doubt that there was “ever really any LOVE” in that relationship. Upon the process of ending relationships, statements are uttered in thought or out loud resembling ” How could I ever have believed (trusted) _____________ to ____________me. ”
I am remembering that I am ending a relationship with my home.
About this photo:
Taken by Cindy MoonRose with digital camera using flash. I took two versions, with and without flash. Without flash, all the wood is dark, creating a very different mood. This one, with the light framing by the door, is captivating to a broader range of viewers, or so I believe. This shot is standing at the bottom of stairway that lead to Martin’s lair, which got terribly burned up.