I’ve been getting progressively more exhausted with each passing day. Mentally I’m just about shot. The house building process has gotten the best of me; I thought I was strong, this house proves I probably am not. Thankfully for my sanity, the windows need cleaning and I’m just the guy to clean them.
We spent the weekend cleaning up the new house (and cleaning the old one to show it to prospective buyers). I finished cleaning all the windows last night and spent tonight working on hanging towel bars. As it stands now, the house is an incredible cocoon, isolating myself from the rest of the world. Methodically washing each of about thirty windows is the perfect meditation. Scraping off the labels and overspray. Wiping the crud out of the crevices. Spraying a mist of fresh smelling Windex across each glassy plane. Working alone in silence. The last time I experienced this degree of peace, solitude and quiet was when I was cutting out foam blocks from my shiny new foundation in the dead of the summer heat.
Now in the dead of winter grey, albeit an unseasonably warm winter, it’s difficult to feel more than a fractal degree of optimism. But at least in one night’s (or one night and a day’s) washing windows I at least got to be alone with our new home. That is reward enough for now I suppose. Best to get this project done, move in and spend our time, at our leisure, fixing all the little idiosyncracies that beg to send me into a fit of whatnot.
I did reflect on the permanence of what we’ve created. Or at least my hope that there is some degree of permanence to what we’ve done. Hopefully by documenting this project, someone a hundred years from now will appreciate what we’ve tried to accomplish; reflect on all the details we tried to turn into reality. What we’ve done in terms of energy efficiency is ahead of its time frankly. And I say that only because it was so foreign and difficult to execute. It really should be common practice but alas not a lot of people value things the same way as we do I suppose. In a fleeting and disposable society, our hope is that we’ve created something that will last for a very long time. Soon the bank will come out and put a value on the place. On paper we’ve input a lot more money than we planned. And on the surface the house is not necessarily remarkable or even “worth” all the money that’s been used to construct it. Even so what is rendered in wood, steel and glass should reflect a value that should appease the bank (at least enough for a loan). But the house is so much more than the sum of its parts. Only time will reflect this project’s true value in this world. Our society’s current methods and models of assigning value to “things” is disappointingly out of touch with the realities of how the world (and universe) truly operate. What we’ve built will be compared side by side to traditional houses. Bonuses will not be given to our abode for the fewer number of mountain tops that will need removal to power it. Just as demerits are not levied against typically built cookie cutter houses that work hard at degrading us and our communities. And our project is not immune from negative effect. For example, the amount of waste generated during the course of our project is staggering. We’ve could have fallen out of bed and found ways to reduce waste. But alas only so much can be done by so many in so much time.
Anyway, enough of my social tirades. On to the eye candy. Enjoy. We’re almost done.