I am inordinately fond of this poem and all its flaws, just like the houses I built. You can't build a flawless house. I've tried, it's a fool's errand but you do come away with a well built house.
Thanks Jonathan, slow burns are the best kind especially in cold weather. On very cold jobs we kept a drum burning all day with scrap wood. One of the laborers put a big piece of red hot coal into his steel lunch pail and tucked it into his jacket. He said it worked well right up until it burned some holes on the inside. That boy also tried cutting rope with a miter box.
Back then, I worked with some improbably stupid people and I tried very hard to put the skill into them so they could feed themselves. Most of them could.
Thanks Ann. I see it the same way, but I have vain hopes of my houses remaining long after I'm gone, maybe several hundred years. In the big picture, a couple hundred years is pretty brief.
Indeed. No doubt the details matter. The energy & care you put into the craft is beautiful and enduring. The laws of thermodynamics right? Energy (Love?) cannot be destroyed.
Such a fine way of framing family. Both in poem and in home. Thanks Wes. Excellent poem. Lots of slow burn.
Thanks Jonathan, slow burns are the best kind especially in cold weather. On very cold jobs we kept a drum burning all day with scrap wood. One of the laborers put a big piece of red hot coal into his steel lunch pail and tucked it into his jacket. He said it worked well right up until it burned some holes on the inside. That boy also tried cutting rope with a miter box.
I love your very carpentery disdain in the last sentence there Wes.
Back then, I worked with some improbably stupid people and I tried very hard to put the skill into them so they could feed themselves. Most of them could.
I read these words about Home as a sacred space. A temporary physical shelter for souls who are briefly and beautifully embodied here. Gorgeous work.
Thanks Ann. I see it the same way, but I have vain hopes of my houses remaining long after I'm gone, maybe several hundred years. In the big picture, a couple hundred years is pretty brief.
Indeed. No doubt the details matter. The energy & care you put into the craft is beautiful and enduring. The laws of thermodynamics right? Energy (Love?) cannot be destroyed.
I think you are talking about building but, what's interesting is, you might be talking about poetry. How cool is that?
Yes, the Poetry of ordinary days. That’s my jam. 👊❤️
That's my favorite jam too! We should come up with a jam like name and by "we", I mean you, since I'm no good at that.
Hmmmm...good idea. Let’s think about this.
A well crafted home is one of joy and pride. A lovely poem, filled with tenderness and love.
thanks for reading Dian.
This poem brings to mind some lyrics from a George & Ira Gershwin tune called "The Man I Love". The line goes:
"He'll build a little home
that's meant for two
from which I'll never roam
who would, would you?"
very smoochy.
A home can be a measurement of history.
Yes, a very personal history.