No, that old house is not MY old house, although it is down the road from me and I pass it twice a day. And it’s really cool.
My old house is holding up a lot better.
Below are 2 photos of some of my doorknobs that always give me a lot to think about. There are only a few doorknobs in the house that are original to the house.
The first – the doorknob in my bedroom. It is 117 years old. And it fascinates me to think about all the many people who have touched that doorknob. Who were they? What did they do while they were in my bedroom? Probably really happy stuff because my bedroom has the best vibrations of any room I have ever been in.
The next is my front door. Loyal readers of this lofty blog will no doubt recall that this front door has not been opened in, literally, decades. Probably around 40 years. It’s the original door, painted a zillion times so that now it’s painted shut, and the original doorknob. The doorknob is really rusty on the outside. But not the inside. I will regale you soon with what the inside of this door looks like because the lock is just too cool.
I like how I’ve made it look as if you’re welcome to come inside, but, truthfully, you could stand there another 40 years and I would not know you were even there. You’ll notice there is no such thing as a doorbell here.
In other news…
The electrician is making one final visit to the house this evening to finish all the stuff that I can afford to have him fix for now. But at least he assured me that my dryer will be working again.
His visit on Wednesday, Halloween, was rather informative. He told me in no uncertain terms that the way my main waterline comes in right on top of my main electric line is absolutely illegal. And that my breaker box has to be moved at least halfway down the wall, and all the wiring should be upgraded.
I’m sure you’re savvy enough to know that this involves thousands of dollars — about .75 cents of which I have. Mostly because 3 days of having an electrician here has wiped me out! Anyway. Life goes on and he’s doing his best to seal everything up for now so that my beloved home is no longer a fire-trap in action.
He is the cutest guy. We talked a little bit the first day he was here. He has a little baby girl – he showed me photos on his phone. He’s 38. We talked a little bit about me not having kids even though I had wanted them and how it was one of the primary reasons for my 2nd divorce. And he asked me how old I was now and when I told him, he said, in genuine seriousness, “Well, there are miracles, you know. It could still happen.”
It was too cute! I told him, “I don’t want that kind of miracle at age 58.”
The next night that he was here, we were talking about something else, and he said, “You know, you don’t look nearly as old as you are.” Whoa. Too funny. Then he added, “I meant that as a compliment.”
And I said, “Trust me, honey , I took it as a compliment.” Man, did he come on strong after that. It was actually too cool. I was so flattered. Because even though he refuses to accept it, I know that I am really OLD. He was not subtle, either. However, I’m old enough to know that when there’s a father and a baby there’s gotta be a mommy somewhere…
All righty!! On that happy note, as I await his return later today, I am hard at work again on the new novel Blessed By Light. So I’m gonna get crackin’ around here. Have a great Friday, wherever you are in the world, gang!! Thanks for visiting. See ya.