The problem with sitting home alone convalescing as I’ve been doing the past four weeks is you start noticing the condition your house is in.
You begin to realize the level of upgrade it needs to bring it up to the standards of a Homes columnist, and begin to wonder if you still have Reno Boss columnist extraordinaire Marc Labossiere’s phone number, and whether or not he’ll work for beer.
Then, when you add in watching the million or so home build/reno tv shows you can’t stop staring at because otherwise you’ll probably just watch Bar Rescue (which just happens to be another reno show), you can’t stop seeing the potential in your place if you only had $50,000 to make it happen. You obsess on how many reno experts you might have something on, or truly would be just happy working for beer. None, that’s how many.
It’s worse when you’re going through the period when you’re still prohibited from driving, (approx. four to six weeks from your date of surgery), so your butt is basically planted in that couch.
Then you really get thinking, “so what would I change if I could dive into a comprehensive reno right now? What would stay and what would go?”
For example, I know I wouldn’t chuck the old balustrade (hand railing and posts) I have from Winnipeg’s historic Manitoba Club, but might some discerning designer say “Well that’s outta here!”
That would be cruel, such an amazing piece of local history. Think of the plethora of historical figures who have leaned against that railing and chatted about who knows what.
I love it, although it definitely needs a repaint. All white this time. Must admit, with regard to an overall reno’ here, I’m seriously pumped about getting a plan cooking and to start working on transforming the old abode, but since my healing bod’ (heart surgery for those who may not know), will remain in couch potato mode for some time yet, we’ll just file that in the musing department for the time being.
Gives me time to stockpile some beer, or maybe even wine (homemade of course, gotta’ keep costs down).
So for the remainder of today’s column, we’ll switch into a bit more serious state of mind, as I share with you one of the “Comments” e-mails I received within the last week or so.
It’s both heart-and-home warming and hopefully will inspire some of you to do what this kind lady did. A happy home is about a lot more than bricks and mortar.
From Bev’, edited for length.
“Good afternoon Laurie. Love your columns, (thanks Bev’) and I’d like to tell you how one of your articles helped me through a very trying period of my life. You had written about your pet losses which resonated with me. Like you I lost pets during the pandemic. I had three senior cats at the start of the pandemic and lost every one of them. Not only during the pandemic which was bad enough but during my battle with cancer.
“At the point where I was left with just the last sick kitty, (kidney disease), and was also concerned because now he was alone, I read your column about adopting senior pets and I decided to adopt kitty #4 who was 12 and also had kidney disease.
“Despite our best efforts, we lost #3, our dear old Puddles, in January of this year, however, Quincy, adopted because of your column, has really settled down as our little queen.
“If I hadn’t got the push to adopt #4 I don’t think I would have had a pet right now and she’s really helped me through a very dark time in my life. “She’s a goof who has grown on us and become very affectionate. So again, thanks, Bev’.”
Appreciate the feedback Bev’, thanks, hope it inspires a wave of adoptions from all age groups. They so deserve it.
Comments and column suggestions welcome.
lmustard1948@gmail.com
