Our House

a logic v emotion story

for the imi prompt!

In 1996, we were living under the flight path of the soon to be constructed third runway of the Seattle International Airport. The Port of Seattle deliberately routed traffic over us to depress home values and snapped up homes in the construction zone for much less than they were worth. We were just outside that area, but the noise was felt constantly. Our newly diagnosed daughter was now a type 1 diabetic, and the school she was to attend in the fall was in the dumping zone. All airlines will tell you they don’t do this. But they do. Dump excess fuel before landing. It was a rainbow sheen on every hard surface at the school. On the cars, on the sidewalks, on the roofs, on the asphalt of the playgrounds. The jet fuel was everywhere. That’s not good for any child. But for our daughter, potentially fatal. It was time to move.

The pressures of the city were too close. We went looking on Kitsap Peninsula, a ferry ride away to the west. Our agent showed us a half dozen homes. None of them a perfect fit at first glance. But one of them got under our skin. Logic screamed at us. It was a ramshackle sort of house that started life as a fishing cabin in the ‘20s and added onto over many years. None of the walls were quite square. The beams were logs that had been skinned and painted. The siding was asbestos-cement. And the roof looked old. But the view – picturesque. Waterfront on a fishing lake. We went back to it 3 times. And something about it just tugged. Emotion saying, sure, a lot of work, but LOOK at it! So, we bought it.

Of course the logic side was completely correct. The first hard rain, water ran down the INSIDE of the living room wall. We discovered there had been a significant fire, undisclosed and painted over. The oil furnace, even well maintained, drifted particles down and threatened health – it had to go. The plumbing, ancient. The wiring, replaced, but some circuits had a dozen outlets on them. Old termite damage was mostly that. Yet come the heat of summer, carpenter ants nearly an inch long came boiling out of one of the light fixtures upstairs. That was an interesting phone call, I was at work. And easily convinced to leave early! Our son fell into a septic tank (also undisclosed) when the lid rusted through. He was fine. Smelly, but fine.

Ah, but the emotions were not wrong, either. The house cradled us through ups and downs, and despite being a near constant DYI project, the view and the serenity are undeniable. We might have moved, but we can’t leave it, even now, 30 years later.