On Summit

I mentioned in my previous post that our Akron almost-mansion was built in 1925 by Akron entrepreneur and wallpaper baron W.D. Turner. And while we appreciate that Mr. Turner was willing to put his money where his house is, the wallpaper selections he made those 100-odd years ago will likely not be accompanying the home into its next century.   A hole cut in the wall shows off our brand new PEX plumbing supply lines as well as 2.25 square feet of wallpaper that won't have to be removed. Win. Win. So, we continue to remove wallpaper. It's slow going, messy, and not particularly glamorous. Favoring the "kitchen sink" approach, we're tossing everything at the removal process. That includes steam, scoring, fabric softener, more steam, sharp objects, still more steam, and good old elbow grease. With a bit of perseverance, we've got two rooms done and maybe three to go.  I know I said this work wasn't glamorous, but I do like how the window, the diagonal light, ...

Myself, my family, and what is now feeling like a small army of contractors have begun the process of prodding our recently acquired and long vacant almost-mansion into a state of habitability. And while we've only just begun, I'm already sensing that the house has the upper hand. That's not to say I view the house as an adversary (or my relationship with it as adversarial), but rather that the house and I are currently working across purposes. The house, left to it's own devices, would prefer to follow the path of least resistance and continue it's slow march towards entropy, disorder, and decay. I obviously have other plans for it. I'm no physicist, but I know enough about physics to know that the way one combats entropy is with the application of energy. In the case of this house, that energy comes in the form of manual labor. So labor we do, often in fits and and occasionally in starts. Sometimes we take a step forward and sometimes we take a step back. Some...