Renovations

The purchase of my little dream fixer-upper, while being a productive learning opportunity, has been even more of a fascinating look at the inner-world of Mr. Chris Union. While wandering through it the first few times, I imagined furniture here, blue walls there, shiny new counter tops, and polished floors. Dad walked through with his mental x-ray goggles, ignoring the aesthetic values and instead seeing the structure behind the walls and the lumps in the old pine floors. We came out of the house with two very different mental pictures and while I was elated, Dad only saw weeks of frustrating labor.

This is akin to a showing a few months ago where Dad and I went to look at a little house downtown and he came out of it talking about the roof and electrical wiring, while I pointed out that it was a transvestite's home and he had no clue what I was talking about. "You didn't notice?"
"Notice what?"
The man who let us into his house had a crafts table with glue, lace, and sequins and there were enormously long stiletto heels scattered around the house. Initially I assumed a big-footed girlfriend until we went into the spare bedroom and it looked like RuPaul's dressing haven.
"He was a drag queen, Dad."
"What? How do you know?" Sometimes I wonder what Dad sees when he looks around.

Now I know Chris Union and I've known him almost thirty years. I know he is charming, kind, clever, and all squishy inside where his family is concerned. I also know that he is very different in the workplace. Still charming and fair, but also highly efficient, bossy, and aggressive when needed. Coming into this project together, I worried that I would frustrate him with my tendency to consider many options over a long period of time. I have loved homes and interiors and decorations since I was very young and now, finally, getting a little cottage all my own, I was prepared to annoy even myself with the amount of perfectionist detail I would be considering in each room. From hinges to faucets, I considered the hundreds of decisions that I would want to make that Dad would not consider to be worth considering. "It's a crappin' hinge, Lu!"

One month in to the renovations, both of us have surprised me. Me, in a good way. Dad, in both directions. As it turns out, I have stayed true to my laid-back nature and not fussed over things the way I thought I might. This is possibly because there are simply too many options that I love, so I assume I'll be happy with however things work out best. I have a vague idea of what I want for a room, I share that with Dad, and he plows off to make it structurally sound. Dad takes the big picture I give him and immediately orders things, knocks out walls, and comes up with "clever" fixes. It's a few days later when I come by the house, that I realize he has not studied the images I sent him as closely as I did. For example, Dad sees bead-board. I see bead-board, slightly wider than your standard, usual bead-board. "Hey Dad, can we get bead-board in thicker panels?"
"What do you mean?"
"The picture I showed you, I liked the bead-board because of the wide planks."
"Huh?"
"Pull up the picture. See how wide they are? Not like the narrow bead-board you see."

These are the moments where I brace myself for eye-rolling, snorting, and a reminder of the budget we set but these have been the times where he surprises me and he sees that thick bead-board for the first time and thinks it's really great. "Oh! That does look nice! Well ok, I'll look for some!"
Did you see that coming? Dad has unexpectedly enjoyed many of the ideas I have for the house and will often take them and run with them, creating something I was too bashful to even ask about. Dare I say, his artsy side is coming out.

The other area where Dad has surprised me is in his "efficiency." I knew he worked fast. I knew he worked smart. But I didn't realize just how fast and just how compulsively his mind focuses on a task. The man can't sleep. He is consumed by this project. He wakes up at night with ideas for dormers and shelving and since he's up, he'll barrel over to the house and work on something that he hired someone to do because he can't wait for the guys to get there. The rate at which improvements are made on this house is truly astounding. One day, I was mulling over knocking out a half-wall. I told Dad. He thought it was a good thought. I said "I think so too" and then I left, still considering it. When I came back an hour later, the wall was gone. So that decision is done. And I reckon I'm fine with it.

Really, we're a good team, the ole' man and me.