“The most important reason for going from one place to another is to see what’s in between, and they took great pleasure in doing just that.”
― Norton Juster, The Phantom Tollbooth
Seeing beyond the sawdust was an act of survival or defiance. Growing up, the Falla Girls – we three of the matching outfits and single shared name, lived in one phased renovation after another. We thought it normal, and it certainly contributed to my current willingness to live in the same. It’s just what I do.
My knowledge of terms like unforeseen conditions, scope creep, and schedule slide, didn’t exist for me at the time but have become a regular part of my vernacular. Never-the-less they hovered in my subconscious understanding of the inevitable hurdles construction brings. A distinct benefit to living on Cape Cod in the 70’s was the seasonal nature of our peninsula. This gave us access to our Grandfather’s cottage at 74 Bank Street, between Labor Day and Memorial Day – it became our temporary quarters “swing space” between every renovation we undertook as a family. I suspect I spent as much time over the years at 74 Bank, as any other home. While 9 months may seem like a long time, my Father’s full-time occupation as a Lawyer relegated construction to weekend only status. As my Business School Professor, Stephen Greyser so often said, “We were in a holding pattern over Newark”. With this time to think, to plan, I began to imagine, to dream of the endless combinations of color, texture, furnishings, and materials that would set a mood, that would transform….if only we could get beyond the sawdust.
I’ve lived through it, been covered in it, thought I could separate myself from it, but I find the allure of what lies beyond the dust, anxiety, fits and starts, and small victories – combined with my desire to bend a space to my will – leaving it the better for our acquaintance ….deeply satisfying.
Conceived in a moment of self-deprecating despair, in conversation with my Real Estate Broker, Alan Duggan. Having sold my condo in Charlestown, and effectively made myself “homeless”, I packed my bags, put my furniture in storage, rented a room, and began my search for my next perfect place. Who knew it would take so much time. The months stacked up, the down payment dwindled, and my stubbornness to settle took hold, and had us laughing over the idea. A blog that shared the trials and tribulations of the gal on a perpetual search for the next place, another project, the perfect home in which to nest took flight. I think I can find it in 10 flips. Support me in my Quest. I hope you will find it entertaining. I hope you learn from my mistakes. I hope the resources I have accumulated, tricks tried and found true, and the next find I’ve found for you – make your visits to The Nest worth the trip.