Claiming My Space

When we moved in, we liked the fact that this place had been "a successful pottery business" according to the MLS sheet. Ian and Jo Lydia Craven worked hard and made a name for themselves up here. They left some equipment when they moved: the kiln, an electric slab roller, the ironing board. They also left a wall of postcards, photos and mementos in the kiln room. We thought it was pretty cool that the place had some history.

Then we got more of a history lesson. This house needs WAY more work than we initially thought, which requires WAY more money than we have. Some of the "modifications" that were made were WAY not up to code. No wonder they moved. In all fairness, I can't blame the Cravens. We bought the house from the person who bought the house from the Cravens. Maybe the Cravens didn't do it. But someone did. And we have to clean up the mess. Lucky us.

A couple of weeks ago, I decided I was going to take down the memorabilia in the kiln room. I suppose I am finally ready to claim the territory as my own, just like when we ripped out the sorry-ass basement walls and bathroom.
So today, I took down the postcards, photos and drawings, the restaurant menus, opening announcements and even the "Ross Perot for President" bumper sticker. Then I got out my white sage smudge stick and cleared the energy. Ben joined in, not because he believes in it, but just because he likes to light things on fire. Don't we all?

The place smells like my college dorm room, but it's mine now. Let's hope the insurance adjuster doesn't make a surprise visit.