Generations Part III: The Raw Remodel

Grandma talked all the time of the way the house used to be before she remodeled sometime in the 70's. Hardwood floors in the living room that was painted a teal blue. The kitchen had gray speckled floors with a red border piece. They barely had any furniture when they moved in. A table from her Mother-in-laws home. A little wooden piece with removable leaves. She painted the legs cream to update it a bit. I have that table now. It's over 100 years old. Eventually it ended up in the basement acting as a table to fold laundry on, the leaves pushed up into the rafters of the unfinished basement ceiling.

I knew this remodel project would reveal what the house was originally. I would be able to unveil parts of the original home that Grandma talked about. I felt like an archeologist getting ready to uncover history. Under that pink carpet was a glorious hardwood floor. Nearly perfect condition.

Tearing out my Grandma's pink carpet gave me a little bit of satisfaction. The pink carpet was her favorite. It used to be this beautiful green shag carpet. I loved the green shag. We used to go to grandma's after school every day, cook up some ramen noodles and put it on the pizza tray and sit in front of Grandma's tiny tv and watch Gilligan's Island... or grab the FairyTale book off the top shelf and curl up behind the rocking chair next to the heater vent blowing on me. When the pink carpet came- we were older but also Grandma was very... particular... about her pink carpet. No shoes. No food. Don't leave marks if at all possible. We would open the front door, step on the small area carpet she had placed take one step on the carpet and bounce over to the kitchen entry where there was a stool under the desk area to sit on to talk with Grandma while she sat in her chair.

The kitchen was covered with a 1970's yellowish/greenish colored floor with a floral pattern to it. The cupboards- white with white formica with yellow marbling. A dark wood buffet had been put in with a desk near the phone line. That's where the rotary phone used to hang. 66 years with the same phone number. We all had it memorized and it was a sad day when my Aunt cancelled the line. 785-3757- forever etched into my memory.

The bathroom had linoleum flooring and only a bathtub. No shower. Tin tiles went around the bath- Originally black but now they had silver showing through from all the years we would take baths and "wash" the tiles with the scrub brush Grandma kept to wash us with.

The hall closet used to be host to 100 VHS tapes. Shirley Temple, The Sound of Music, Gigi... all the classics now gone. Empty.

The house echoed. I leaned against the corner of the wall between the living room and the kitchen- The corner where Grandpa used to scratch his back like a bear on a tree. Took a deep breath and sighed. This project is going to be harder than I thought. I was overwhelmed by memories at every corner and I have to change it all. The only saving grace would be the thought of giving this home a new loving family. Updating it's bones to become that same charming home that won my Grandma and Grandpa over in the first place so that the next 66 years could find the same love.

GENERATIONS PART II

There is a lot to be said for inspiration. I know there are plenty of people that don't believe in God but for myself, I have had too many moments where I have felt touched by the gentle promptings of the Spirit
- moments that I know did not come from myself- that I wholeheartedly believe in divine inspiration. This was one of those moments.

One evening- as I lay feeding the baby and watching "The Greatest Showman" for the 1,000th time- I had a thought. "Buy Grandma's house- remodel it. Complete it's story and prepare it for a new family."

I'm sorry... what? We are not wealthy people. In fact... we are just standard middle class people. We can't afford to purchase a home and fix it up. In fact-- we can't even fix up my own house! My honey-do list is pretty long!
My husband is a realtor and does construction- so it's possible... but it's so complicated. We would need to find an investor and we would need to dedicate a lot of time to it. As quickly as the thought came to buy it came I was inundated with doubts and fears. But undeniably there was also a very calm reassurance that it was possible- That we could find a way to do this and that my family would be blessed by this project.

With that reassurance in mind, I spoke with my husband. A few phone calls later, an investor had been found and we were starting one of the most important projects in my life. One that not only tried me physically but emotionally as I spent hours of my time tearing down the very walls that were my safe place for so long.

Missionary Moments

This is my son Seth. Seth is amazing. He is charming and funny. He works hard and has overcome a lot of hard things in life. I love him lots!

Seth has Asperger's- a form of high-functioning Autism. Throughout the years we have learned and grown along with Seth to figure out how Seth works- how he processes the world and see's things just a little bit differently than the rest of us. It has been an enlightening process. He is a joy to have in our family and we love having his spirit in our home.

6 months ago-  just before Seth's graduation, we were meeting with the Bishop and trying to determine what type of mission Seth could serve. Would it be a local service mission? or could it possibly be something more? As his mother, I have dreamed of the wonderful things my son would become and the things that he would do... but as his world unfolded around us -- there are some things I placed on hold as far as expectations because they just might not fit into Seth's box. I could not imagine the miracles that would soon occur.

After meeting with the Bishop and the Stake president- It was determined that Seth would be a better fit for a local service mission as opposed to a 2 year mission. So we went about filling out the proper paperwork for a local mission. In the process it asked about Seth's skills and his strengths. I filled out the information the best I could and went on my way.

Shortly after filling out the application I got a call from my Bishop. He had just received a call from Salt Lake City. They considered Seth to be a perfect candidate for the Salt Lake City Church Headquarters Mission! A full two-year service mission! My heart skipped a beat!

It has been a lengthy process. We had to go in and fill out the full paperwork for a mission. After that we met with a counselor at LDS Family Services to determine if Seth would be capable of serving this mission. -- And then we waited-- for a long time. Seth is still waiting but we hear his official call will be sent via email shortly after general conference. Since some changes are being made, instead of coming from the Stake Office- his call will be coming from the Prophet.

We do know through through the Stake Office that he will be leaving soon and we are frantically getting things put together... and this momma is trying not to freak out. I can testify to you that the Spirit is guiding us every little step of the way... even with things that shouldn't be a big deal but will certainly help out in the end. For example- I went shopping Saturday to pick out some pants for Seth. He needs 4 pairs of dress slacks and he currently has 2. So I happened to catch a sale. I threw some in the cart I thought were his size and forgot about it because I was shopping for the other kids as well. While standing in the check out line I suddenly knew I had the wrong size. "You need a size bigger." I, of course, looked at the line- at my kids and at the baby fussing and thought-- nah. It'll be fine. Pretty sure this is the right size. The prompting came again- only louder. Go get a size bigger! After arguing with myself for a bit I told the other kids to watch the baby as I ran back and exchanged the 2 pair I had picked out for 2 larger sized pair.This shouldn't matter - it's a tiny thing. Sure enough, when I got home and had Seth try those pants on they were a perfect fit. The other pants would have been way too small and me being a working mom would have had no time to take those pants back! The Lord watches out for us in ways we don't even notice... in tiny things that we don't think even matter... he takes care of us because he loves us and knows that even a tiny trip to the store means valuable time wasted that could be spent elsewhere! What an amazing thing!

Generations

I haven't posted on this particular blog in a very long time... but it's my favorite one. So here I am again.

Trent and I have been so so busy lately with a project that is very near to my heart. I have been wanting to post about it from day one... but collecting my thoughts to put down was a bit difficult when we are literally burning the candle at both ends to make this project come to fruition and also because I am very connected. So it tends to have been a bit emotional at times.

So let me start in 1952....

In a quiet little town off the banks of the Snake River, along the northern end of the fertile Snake River Valley sits the City of Blackfoot “The Potato Capital of the World.”

Home to none other than my Grandpa himself, Clohecy Reynolds and his soon to be bride, Lola Tea. 

The first home in a now full subdivision and an ever-changing landscape. The Reynolds happily lived in the home for 66 years. The only home they have ever known. They raised three beautiful little girls to adulthood. The walls watched as Lola stayed home with her children and watched 13 others to help with the income. She also supplemented the income by dipping chocolates- a talent that she would share with others long into her life. 

Clohecy worked for Bingham Co-op. 

If walls could talk... 

This home has always been filled with love. My grandma, now 95 years old, has finally had her final chapter in this much loved home. It has seen her through some of the hardest moments of her life- losing her husband and a daughter. It has given her some of her greatest memories- raising her children, watching them rollerskate in an unfinished basement, listening to the laughing and playing of the neighborhood children she tended, watching her daughters be picked up for dances and helping them do their hair and chastising them when their skirts were too short,  teaching her grandchildren how to play badminton and kick the can. Standing on the front steps to bang pots and pans at midnight to celebrate the New Year, building forts out of sheets on the clothes lines... and sitting in her rocking chair listening to the comforting sound of the grandfather clock chime on the hour while watching Days of Our Lives and Lawrence Welk. 

Grandma now lives with my sister wondering when the book will write it's quiet ending. 

So here... in 2018... 66 years after my Grandfather first opened the door of the home at 290 Horrocks Drive in tiny little Blackfoot Idaho, I stood at the door with the key in my hand. 

TO BE CONTINUED... 

These kids are getting old!

I'm never happy about summer ending... but the kids sure don't seem to mind once they get all their new school clothes on and head out the door. In fact, Eli who is now 8, set his alarm clock for 6:30 a.m. Monday morning... got up, put on his new clothes, ate breakfast and donned his new backpack. I was still sleeping since school didn't start until today and I don't go into work until 9. When I woke up and saw him in his new fancy schmancy clothes I asked him what he was doing. "I'm practicing Mom. I even went out to the bus stop and stood there for a few minutes!" They will rock this school year! Oh... and Trent is pretty excited that school starts today too!