Naked

Our house is our home. I am attached in an emotional way to this little house of ours. Born of our relationship, our family, our friends, this home is ours and thought I know those relationships will not be undone by leaving this house, those memories not gone by residing somewhere else, I just can't talk myself into it. Steve has been pestering me in the gentlest of ways to look for a new house. Or rather a new to us house. He wants to find something closer to the school and on a slightly less busy street. He would like something a little bigger but realizes that bigger is not really a priority. He arguments are reasonable, well thought out and absolutely pragmatic and still I can't bring myself to agree. So instead we are undertaking some pretty large renovation projects in the next couple of years.

We hired someone to do the work. All or at least most of it and at the present time he is on board with our timeline. He started while we were away on our road trip at the beginning of July by taking down our old garage, back steps and fence as planned. So that when we returned home we would be able to get started on the rebuild of our outside stuff, the first step in our plans to improve our living space.

Our trip was eventful and fun but exhausting and so on our second last day we made a slight change in plans and headed home one night early. Or rather really, really late. We arrived home around three o'clock in the morning. The drive into the city was eerie. Quiet and dark. The smell of the city was amazing. Unlike the city, it smelled like a forest in the rain. But the power was out, all over the place. We couldn't see downtown as we drove towards it and when we turned onto our block it was apparent that our street was the dividing line: the south side had power, the north did not. Alas, we live on the north. We drove through our back lane to survey the work that had been done while we were away. A big hole where our decrepit old garage used to be, no fence, no back steps. A sigh of relief, done as planned. We drove around the front and as we pulled up in the moonlight darkness we became aware that we couldn't see our house for the giant Spruce tree that had fallen in front of it. Our beloved 60 year old tree had been felled by a storm, broken in two. At first we believed it to be a lightening strike but it's possible that it was just high wind that tore it to pieces. The tree had fallen eastward from the west side of our property, missing our house and only damaging our lilac bushes, my planters, and the dogwood all on the way down. But we couldn't access our front steps and we had no back steps.

With flashlight in hand we made our way carefully through our neighbours yard, around the fallen tree and into our backyard where we picked our way through a maze of broken back steps, nails, and other debris that lay in the way. I swore under my breath. Darn builder without children. Obviously doesn't know that he can't leave this stuff laying around. Once we opened the back door we went back to collect the sleepy children who were confused and upset by the current state of our house as we lifted them into the back door. After a few more cuddles, reassurances that things would be better in the morning. We tucked everyone neatly into their own beds and headed off to sleep ourselves. Oh blissful sleep. So quiet, so dark. We could see the stars in a way not usual to the orange back glow from the city at night. And the quiet, oh the quiet, no fridge, no fish tank, nothing except the tick of one clock and the sound of our breaths.

In the morning, our local arbourist knocked at our back door to ask if we needed a hand. We had been formulating a plan to purchase a chain saw and cut our way out until the arbour company I hired to brace that tree and do some pruning on our other trees could make it in four weeks. I asked him if he would be willing to do the work the same day and he laughed as he looked up at me from where our back steps used to be. We were high on the list of priorities since access to our house was severely compromised.
He started immediately. And finished in the early afternoon. The tree was close to our house and our neighbours house and nearby to a couple of deciduous trees so he couldn't fall what was still standing, he had to climb it and take it down by pieces. A morning full of entertainment for children watching out the front window.

The tree is gone now. The front of our house exposed to the street. Our garage in the back is gone leaving our house exposed to the back lane. We feel naked. Exposure in ways we've never felt before. Just naked.

But will I move? No way. There will be a new tree at some point and the work is taking place in our yard now for the new garage. Besides, I gave birth here and my babies' hand prints are in the sidewalk in the front of this house and how could I ever leave that behind?