Shelter ... First

Deus Ex Machina always calls me when he's on his way home.  We chat during his drive from there to here, about the day, about whatever, and the call usually ends when I see him pull down the road or into the driveway, and I say, "I see you.  I'm hanging up now." 

The other day it was raining during his drive home.  We were chatting, as usual.

"There's a hitchhiker," he told me when he was less than a half mile from home.  "I'm going to see if he needs a ride."

He pulled over, and I could hear him having an exchange with the, what turned out to be a couple of,  hitchhikers - a man and a woman.  They were going into town - about a two and half mile walk, which under better weather conditions wouldn't be bad, but in the cold, autumn rain, wasn't pleasant.  He offered them a ride.  I told him I was hanging up.  I knew where he was going, roughly, and about how long it would take ... if they had nefarious intentions.

When he got home, he told me their story.  They were homeless and needed a ride into town to retrieve their stuff.  They lived in a tent, which they had stowed behind the drug store in town.  They were unemployed, but were looking for work.  

"It's hard to find a job when you're homeless," they told Deus Ex Machina.  "When you can't shower and all," they added. 

We're nearing the end of what has been a month and half-long remodel project of my daughter's bedroom.  It's only taken us a quarter of a century to get around to fixing that room.  The closet was a hacked-together mess that looked like it had been hastily constructed using leftover materials from some other project ... or actually looked like something someone like me would have built.  I am not handy, and any building projects I have ever tried (which are very few and far between, because I *know* I am not handy) look much better in my head than in reality.   I have always wanted to tear down the closet and rebuild it, and we finally had the time, the money, and the incentive (revamping our auxillary heat system, because having a back-up in case something like what happened last year, when the glass door on the front of our woodstove cracked in November, is always good).  

After we took out the closet "walls".  The "BEFORE."

In addition to the closet issues, we've known for a long time that the room was inadequately insulated and the carpet is older than the *adult* daughter who occupies the room.  So, we demo'd the room down to studs (including the stupid closet) on the outside walls and ceiling and pulled up the old carpeting.  We tripled the insulation in the ceiling and doubled what was in the walls, put up new drywall, painted, and laid a wood laminate floor.  

Goodbye, carpeting!  I can't say I'll miss you!

The new closet is a custom built-in cabinet installation and will be on the other side of the room, which should open up the room to allow for a better placement of a bed.

It's been a lot of work.  A LOT more work than we actually wanted to do, not because we didn't want those things done, but because we are of a maturity level that we wanted to hire someone to do the work rather than do it ourselves - not that we doubted our abilities (although, as I mentioned, I am not the "do-er", I am the helper for most of the project).  The problem is that most handymen/contractors are very busy - still.  No one wanted a job as small as ours.

We got it done, though, and in between doing the work on the room, we still went to work during the week, continued with our weekly dance and music lessons, maintained our farm/home, and found time to go apple picking and do some canning.  Some things are still on the to-do list, but mostly, we were able to do all of the things that needed doing, and also finish the room. 

It helped that we were placed on a very strict time-line by scheduling the heat system installation and deliveries of fixtures and furniture.  We couldn't just claim to be too busy to get it done.  

And it's mostly done. 

Taken from the side of the room where the closet used to be toward the door.  Yes, it's a very long/narrow room.  The "new" closet will be to the left of the door.

There's some trim that needs to be installed, still, but by the first of November, our daughter should be back in her room, and her stuff, of which there is a great deal, should be recorraled out-of-(my)sight/out-of-mind.  It will be very nice to have my house back in order.

We installed the floor this weekend.  It took about four hours.  A VERY LONG four hours, to be honest.  It was a lot of bending and stooping (mostly for Deus Ex Machina, who did the bulk of the work) and standing and holding and sweeping and moving of things (for me).

In a moment of weakness, I might have wished the time away and longed for that "being done."  I find the measuring and cutting especially tedious, and I still don't know why we had to cut so many pieces.  "To stagger the seams", I was told, but the laminate already has built-in staggered seams.  I just thought, cut what we "have" to cut to make it fit, and just lay the rest of it, which is why *I* am not in charge of projects.  Deus Ex Machina tends to be a bit more of a perfectionist than I am.  Thankfully!

There might have been a moment or two when I wished we were done, or, maybe, even regretted getting started, but then, sometime in the middle of my achiness and fatigue, I thought of that couple that Deus Ex Machina met on the road the week prior.  

I am grateful to have a room that I could demolish and rebuild.  I am thankful that I don't live in a tent and have to hitchhike in the rain ... or walk two miles to find the tent I have hidden, all the while hoping that someone else hasn't found it.  

In an extreme survival scenario the first priority is shelter.  I always think about that. 

I also think about the fact that everything is easier when one has a place to live.  

It's easier to eat an affordable and healthy diet, because one has a place to store extra food and to cook food from ingredients rather than boxes.  Costly take out is a luxury we can occcasionally afford rather than how we have to eat, because there are few other choices

It's easier to save money on clothes.  With the space to store sewing supplies, one can mend rather than having to re-purchase.  Or redye one's black shirts when they start to get faded from drying them on the "solar clothes-dryer", and speaking of, one can have a clothesline and a washing machine, rather than having to spend an hours' worth of our wages to to wash and dry a load of laundry.  

With a place to live, life is just easier.

I've read a lot of anecdotes from the (last) Great Depression, and the thing that sticks with me are the stories of people who stayed put.  Who were poor, very poor, but they had a place to live, and that made all of the difference.

They had a place to live, and if they were lucky, a small yard where they could grow a few vegetables and/or raise a few chickens for eggs.  They didn't have much, but they ate.  That's more than a lot of folks could say.  And they could use what they had to make what they needed, rather than having to depend on someone else to meet their needs, which always costs more than doing it oneself.

I did some touch-up painting this morning in that room.  I installed the outlet and light switch covers, and then, I sat in the middle of the empty room, singing, and enjoying the cool acoustics.

And I gave thanks that I have this space, this home, this SHELTER.

If I could give one piece of advice to people who ask me what they should be doing to prepare for this coming economic downturn, I would say make sure you have a place to live.  

After that, life is easier.