Walls spoke secrets, joists told tales and the rafters enclosed stories as well as resident woodland creatures. It was an epic, resolute campaign against ancient wood, copper, mortar and linoleum, against soil, grout and glue, against mice, raccoons and squirrels. Giffel’s untethered expectations met human limitations. “We belonged here.” Of course, funny stuff ensued as ancient lath and plaster gave way to wallboard, rust yielded to pipe, openings in the roof were shingled and the shambles became a home. “We knew,” writes the author, implicating his understanding spouse, whose second pregnancy made the move to larger quarters more urgent. It had all the structural integrity of a house of cards, but it boasted a billiard room. The decaying old manse on North Portage Path in Akron, Ohio, was composed largely of rot, rust and mold, along with a bit of residual brick. Though not a structural engineer like his father, Akron Beacon Journal columnist (and former Beavis and Butt-Head writer) Giffels was seriously into the form of obsession known as do-it-yourself. It’s the age-old story of residence against man as the author builds his dream house.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |