Member-only story
This Old House
Labor of love — when the work is never done
The labor of love
“Think you’re escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home.” — James Joyce
Almost exactly two years ago, my husband and I embarked upon a grand adventure. We bought a very old, rather enormous house, in need of a significant amount of repair.
We share a love of history and a reverence for the quality and soul of old things. It is fitting that we would take on this project together, one that we’ll probably be tackling for the rest of our lives.
But even though we always knew it would be a long-term endeavor, and we’re fortunate to be able to live in the house while we toil, it’s difficult to feel settled in a place when you can sense the very bones of the structure screaming at you constantly, the ghosts crying out, demanding that work be done.
Because the work is NEVER done.
My husband sees it a bit differently. He reminds me that the house doesn’t actually yell. It just “very subtly nags”.
He has a point.
The reality of perpetual labor
“Nothing ever comes to one that is worth having, except as a result of hard work.” — Booker T. Washington
