The "Farmhouse" Confession
Welcome to our humble, farmhouse-ish home. What is a farmhouse-ish home? Let me just borrow this quirky definition I found on a sign that I bought on Amazon.
Farmhouse-ish - a rustic dwelling located on a farm (minus the animals, barn, and actual farm).
But to be completely honest with you, this is my most justifiable excuse to camouflage all of the mistakes we made in constructing our first-ever home some 17 years ago. What could go wrong with a farmhouse-themed home?
The 40% Completed Dream
When we first moved into our two-story home, it was just 40% completed, with its building foundations laid, the concrete poured and cured, and the roofing newly installed. The walls were unpainted and roughly finished, the CHBs (concrete hollow blocks) were exposed on the exteriors, and the ribbed metal roofing emitted too much heat during the day and caused cold chills at night due to the lack of a proper ceiling and insulation. The exposed timber beams in our ceiling were a sight to see for birds that figured out they could make our unwalled, three-bedroom second floor their nesting habitat. Thus, the bird droppings on our floor!
The Audacity of Moving In
As a single-income family, it is not hard to explain why we had the audacity to move into our first home after living in a rental for five years. We were a young couple building our young family and homeschooling our then four-year-old daughter. We were excited to move into our new but rugged home.
The Mystery of the "Hole-y" Linoleum
There was a mysterious leaking pipe buried within a concrete wall on one side of our bathroom that annoyed us on a daily basis. Our cement-finish flooring was always damp from the water leak, so we thought of masking it with some cheap linoleum that we purchased by the yard. We got what we paid for. It did not take long for the linoleum to develop holes. Water oozed out of the holes in the linoleum, making our floor slippery and accident-prone. Yikes! We then tried to resolve this by placing absorbent rugs over our 'hole-y' linoleum floor. We patiently replaced these absorbent rugs at least twice daily. For the next few months our water bill kept increasing, which was a heavy burden for a small family like ours.
A Ticking Time Bomb
It felt like there was a ticking time bomb waiting to explode any minute in our new home. Unless we did something about it, it would keep haunting us whichever way we turned. The unseen leaking pipes buried in our concrete wall made us realize that, indeed, cracks don't get smaller. In this case, the leaking would not abate; instead, it got worse by the hour because of too much water pressure. We were confronted by something that we could no longer avoid.
It felt like there was a ticking time bomb waiting to explode any minute in our new home. Unless we did something about it, it would keep haunting us whichever way we turned. The unseen leaking pipes buried in our concrete wall made us realize that, indeed, cracks don't get smaller. In this case, the leaking would not abate; instead, it got worse by the hour because of too much water pressure. We were confronted by something that we could no longer avoid.
Finding the Culprit
In order to rectify the worsening situation, we dug deep into our pockets employed the help of a trusted neighbor handyman to blind-search for the leaking pipes. He started the tedious masonry job of taking down one side of our bathroom wall, one blow of the hammer-chisel at a time. After about four hours, the culprit was exposed. Buried in the concrete wall was a water pipe connector that was not sealed! Up to this day, our plumbing contractor is nowhere to be found.
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The original photograph of this bathroom wall was taken by me, and I used Google Gemini to remove white paint to show an unfinished wall with exposed leaking PVC pipe on a linoleum floor.
We went to bed that day with smiles on our faces. We enjoyed our sacred tea time in the late evening and enumerated, one by one, the things we were thankful to the Lord for—the unfinished house that we could finally call our home; the cold roof over our heads at night; the bugs that kept finding their way through the gaps between the hollow blocks; and the very small number of family members that we felt safe inviting over. Thank God, Facebook was not yet a thing then!
As we looked out our window, we gazed at the stars, our voices in a hush. We described how we wanted our home to be. Definitely not a Martha Stewart home, though it would be nice if we could afford it.
Building a Home for Tired Souls
We wanted a home that welcomes and refreshes tired souls with free-flowing coffee and tea, because life is so much better with them. A home where we can teach our children the ways of the Lord and how to follow Him while we prepare them for the adult world. Our first homeschooled daughter is in her third year of college now, and I appreciate how she describes authenticity as not trying to be something you are not. That's basically the sentiment. We want a house like no other—a house that reflects our imperfectly rugged, joyful life as we complete each element through the years.
We wanted a home that welcomes and refreshes tired souls with free-flowing coffee and tea, because life is so much better with them. A home where we can teach our children the ways of the Lord and how to follow Him while we prepare them for the adult world. Our first homeschooled daughter is in her third year of college now, and I appreciate how she describes authenticity as not trying to be something you are not. That's basically the sentiment. We want a house like no other—a house that reflects our imperfectly rugged, joyful life as we complete each element through the years.
What's Wrong With This House? Kadami!
That is not hard to answer.
That is not hard to answer.
We worked around the construction mistakes we made during our first few years here. We've learned to practice the art of contentment by using what we have and making it work for us. We were able to teach the virtue of patience to our children by living it out on a daily basis. For example, our daughter had to wait a long time for us to have a fully-painted house. She was already nine years old by then, and old enough to grasp the concept of waiting. In the end, her prayers were answered when she finally got her own room painted in baby pink.
Keeping Our Circle "Safe"
Somehow, things started to fall into their rightful places as our home developed its own character. It has aged well, looking older than its actual age.
And in case I haven't mentioned it yet, we only invite our "safe people" to come over to our home. Those who love us for who we are; those who won't criticize our style choices; like-minded people who are pleasant to be with; those who won't judge us; and those who, like us, thrive in mutual respect.
To Be Continued...
We've also learned to practice the art of hospitality. Besides our own family circle, we mindfully think of our "unknown" people—those we haven't met yet.
We became more intentional in creating pocket spaces and large dining tables with plenty of elbow room for communing together. Along the way, we've learned how to joyfully serve as we make room for more.
But this is for another blog entry in this series, What's Wrong With This House? Lord willing. Thank you for dropping by.