The beginning

Today is not the beginning. The beginning was years ago, when Mark decided there was no getting around the inevitable. The house, though filled with post-war charm, a built-in liquor cabinet, and a red vinyl and formica bar in the basement, had to come down.

The beginning began even before I met Mark, before I moved in a groaned about the kitchen (no counter space! no dishwasher! no garbage disposal!), before we tripped over the extension cord that connected to the one working outlet in our living room, before we wrangled for position in the 1ft by 1ft bathroom, and before we bought a queen sized bed that was so big for the bedroom that the closet door couldn't swing open or shut. So it's just always open.

As Mark tells it (and evidenced by photos and still-exposed dry wall in the kitchen), he tried his best to make it the house he really wanted. He cut a hole in the kitchen to install a back door, built a deck, re-wired and dry walled the bedrooms, and made the front and back yard lush with flowers, japanese maples, forest pansies, mondo grass, a yellow magnolia and beautifully landscaped walkways.

But there was that awful bathroom. And those bedroooms that, ideally, would suit a child in a twin bed rather than two adults who like clothes and shoes and spaces for all our books. And the low-ceilinged basement that would only serve as a dumping ground for our bought and forgotten junk.

So it was decided at some point years ago, that because we love our neighbors, our neighborhood and the proximity to work, it was better to rebuild than move. And here we are, on the eve of demolition, hoping we're making the right decision.

We'll post pictures, details, and hassles or delights of the day. Please make comments and suggestions - thanks for supporting our adventure with your thoughts and insights!