The biggest downsize of my life

5/28/10 Beautiful log home, with pool, on 2.14 private wooded acres, sold

We have sold our home. That, Dear Readers, is a serious downsize.

As this day approached, Joanna and I have remarked to each other how unemotional the process of leaving our home has been. This is the first home we've ever owned, the place we've spent all but the first few months of our marriage, and the place where our son has lived his whole (4 1/2 month) life. Some of the ease of transition probably comes from the craziness of preparing for a move and job change; we just haven't had time to get teary.

The bigger reason, however, relates to my earlier post about home being where the heart is. It also ties to a key principle of the Downsizing Challenge. It boils down to this: stuff doesn't matter all that much. A thing -- even a thing as significant as a house -- just isn't that important when compared to my Beautiful Bride and Brilliant Boy.

Which is not to say that downsizing the house should pass without some reflection. So, to commemorate this whopper, a few thoughts on 34 Lukes Road:

• I learned a lot in this house: how to tile a bathroom, install a toilet, hang drywall, do basic electrical and plumbing repairs, use a chainsaw, maintain a swimming pool, hang cedar shingles, build a stair rail, and run a wood stove.

• We have countless memories, but one of my fondest was when we lost power for two days in a terrific blizzard. The wood stove and oil lamps kept us cozy and functional, and Joanna cooked the most delicious meals using the fire.

• I am a world-class putterer, a trait I inherited from my grandfather, and our house was a world-class puttering mecca. I could step out the front door with no idea of what to do and find myself immediately immersed in hours and hours of entertaining little projects.

• The pool, as I have well documented here was a curse and a blessing. Nothing caused me more stress, but it sure was fun to jump in after a hot afternoon of lawn mowing or to float around with a book and a beer. I won't miss dealing with the pool, but I'll miss the fun times it provided. And I know Joanna will miss spending lazy days on the inflatable lounger!

• Here's a little tip if you live in a home that a bat could conceivably get into, own cats. Our cats are the fastest, most accurate Bat Early Warning System possible. On three different occasions, a bat got into our bedroom while we were sleeping. In all three cases, the cats alerted us to the situation far before we could join the cast of Twilight. Here was the highlight: one night we awoke to a commotion, turned on the light, and found that Bird had pinned one of the little creatures to the floor. Who ya gonna call?!?

• Waking up to a foot or more of snow is a beautiful sight, even if it means a heck of a lot of shoveling awaits.

• We had many stunning sunsets. The house was set up fairly high and our kitchen picture window looked west. I have about a hundred different photos of amazing sunsets from that spot.

• Lawns are overrated. Over the years, I systematically reduced my mowing area, eventually returning more than half of my lawn to a more 'natural' state. Three huge benefits: 1) less time mowing and less gas burned; 2) wildflower meadows are sure more interesting to look at than scraggly grass; 3) Turns out that our entire back "yard" was a wild blueberry patch. Eating wild blueberries is A LOT better than looking at scraggly grass.

• We weren't the only inhabitants. Every spring a pair of phoebes returned and built a new nest under the eaves. This was a fascinating process to watch, and it was always thrilling to see the babies' little heads poking up a few weeks later. And, for the record, my wildflower meadows provided excellent bug-hunting ground for momma bird.

• We didn't have many parties, but our huge side deck was the perfect place to host visitors. This year, we'll move Joanna and Reed's Third Annual Autumnal Equinox Benefit Barbecue to Denver, but I'll miss having it out on that deck.

• Here's my classic Maine Winter Moment: I once received a phone call from my buddy Marc while I was up on our roof shoveling off snow. Marc was watching T.V. or something equally pedestrian.

• Chase won't remember the place, but we'll remember his first four months there. Without doubt, he was the best thing about the house.

Goodbye, 34 Lukes Road. You've been good to us.