Kismet.
Yesterday was the two-year anniversary of the day I first saw this house. That was the day after our wedding, and Joe and I and the gang decided to take a walk down to the Quarry Chapel. On the way, we walked past this house, which was for sale. At the time, I said to Joe, "Oh look at that lovely old farmhouse" much in the same way I'd done hundreds of times during our house-hunting days in Maryland. He nodded and mumbled his agreement in much the same way he had done hundreds of times.
The following winter, I got email from Kenyon saying, in effect, "please send us librarians!" Almost on a whim, Joe applied. And had a phone interview. And then traveled out here for an in-person interview. We stopped the Maryland house hunt until we knew one way or the other. They offered him a job, and it was too good an opportunity to pass up. Rick said I could telecommute. We were set.
So, in June of 2001, we left our friends and family in Maryland, and moved to central Ohio. We bought this old farmhouse, somewhat less lovely for having done a full inspection, but nonetheless ours. The process was a blur - we arrived in Gambier at 3 am, cats in tow, and had to be at closing the next morning. The other Realtor wore a Cat-in-the-Hat hat. We signed our names about a thousand times each. We took our new keys, drove over to the house, and collapsed in exhaustion.
I didn't even make the connection until well after we'd moved in, but this was that same house we'd seen the day after our wedding almost a year before. Same magnolias next to it, same flowering crabapples lining the driveway, same peculier little window at the top of the second-floor gable. Kismet.
The last few days have been spent with contractors, installing central air conditioning, and running ductwork upstairs. We've been at the home renovation business now for over a year - painting, drywalling, repairing, replacing - and frankly some of the novelty has worn off.
Yesterday, though...
Out of some insane urge, I started prying the old paneling off the wall, in the corner where the contractors are running the new duct. I started this at 11:30 at night, banging away, and begging Joe to just leave me to it and go to bed. In the process, I discovered the old lath behind the drywall, the lovely wood floor under the ugly carpet, chunks of the old plaster, almost exactly the same color Joe and I painted the dining room. All the reasons I wanted an old house - all that history, hidden behind the faded 1970s improvements.
Suddenly, the process is fun again. Kismet.
posted by Alison @ 9:29 AM
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