June 26 '04
Volume 421


New House On Dogwood Circle

There Tommy - Pickin Upis a new house under construction on Dogwood Circle. In fact, it’s only two doors down from our house. Unlike the words of a Dolly Parton song, there’s not much "laughing and drinking and having a party." The goings on there are mostly work. Tommy and Anita Wood are building the house, and while it’s framed as a two-story dwelling, the only portion of the second story to provide living space is that immediately above the two-car garage. The over-the-garage space will consist of a bedroom, bath, and a closet. The rooms will serve their college-aged daughter, Anna Claire, for as long as she needs them. Mary Beth, their younger daughter will enjoy an equally spacious area on the first floor.

Tommy and Anita have lived on East Oxford Street for a number of years in the former home of Alf Williams, a beautiful house built more than forty years ago. It’s been almost a year since I learned that Tommy and Anita were preparing to build in our neighborhood. Anita told me that they were looking for less upkeep and yard work for Tommy and something to provide Mary Beth with a greater degree of privacy. At that time, she and Tommy had found a set of house plans they liked and were wrangling over "total square feet of living area."

"We’re within 500 square feet of agreement," she explained. "I told Tommy I didn’t see how we could manage with anything less."

I don’t know who won, but I know that in moving from a larger home to a smaller one, tough decisions are a part of the process.

Last fall, in an effort to get construction started before the rains of winter began, workers arrived to remove several trees near the back of the generous lot. Earthmoving equipment shaped the building lot, but wet weather set in before footings could be formed and a foundation raised, denying Tommy the opportunity to, as he expressed, "get it out of the ground before winter, so we can jump on it next spring."

This past March, I walked "the circle" often twice a day, while regaining my strength following surgery. I watched for what now seems weeks as the bare ground gave birth to a foundation. I also noted that Tommy spent a lot of time checking on the progress daily, before I figured out he must be his own general contractor. It didn’t take me as long to discover Tommy was obsessed with maintaining a clean and neat building site.

Hardly a day goes by that Tommy and sometimes Anita is/are not on hand to straighten up. During the day, there seems to be an endless supply of dropped nails, scrap lumber, and other building materials scattered about, but a few hours after Tommy arrives, things are neatly stacked, collected, and organized, ready for a new day.

"This is such a nice neighborhood," Tommy shared. "I don’t want any paper or plastic blowing into a neighbor’s yard. And, I don’t want the site becoming an eyesore."

"Once you move in, if you folks keep the inside of your house as neat as the building site, no one in this neighborhood will be able to compete with you," I responded.

The Woods' house has a conventional foundation with a crawl space high enough at the rear elevation to house water heaters and air conditioning units. Temperatures under the house won’t vary as much as those outside which will allow the air conditioning units greater operating efficiencies.

Of course, there was no crawl space until floor joists were laid and sub-flooring put down. Tommy selected waterproof pressed-board for the sub floor and was later glad he did.

One afternoon, I ran into Anita at the grocery store, and we spoke briefly.

"They’re finally starting on the flooring," Anita expressed excitedly. I told the carpenters I’ll be dancing on my floor tonight.

"I’d like to see that," I teased.

However, when darkness fell it was raining, and I never did check outside to see if Anita made good on her promise. Hour for hour, Anita hasn’t matched Tommy’s work efforts, but she’s worked hard picking up and helping organize things when she comes over. In fact, Anita and Tommy were back at it a few evenings later even as a light rain hampered their efforts. Anita held an umbrella over her head with one hand and was busy picking up scraps and nails with the other hand.

I picked up an umbrella in my carport and walked within earshot of the couple before greeting them.

"I never did see you dancing the other night," I shared.

Anita laughed and did a couple of quick steps, which for all I know were patterned after Gene Kelly’s dance routine in "Singing In The Rain." That event took place near the end of April or the first of May, for I recall Tommy stating he hoped to have a roof on the house by the end of May. I think the weeks between sub-flooring and roofing may have been the most frustrating for Tommy. When the interior walls were first framed, doorways had not been cut, so the two by fours along the flooring created mini-dams and allowed rainwater to "flood" each room.

"I can’t stand to see water on my floor," Tommy volunteered. "But, I’m glad I spent the extra money and bought waterproof pressed-boards."

Before the roof was up, Tommy spent the greater part of one Saturday sweeping and vacuuming standing water after a heavy rain the night before, then it rained again Saturday night, and he did it all over again Sunday afternoon.

Having seen the architectural drawings, I’m enjoying watching the house take shape. The rooms along the back of the house will have a lot of glass which I’m sure will influence my choice of a "favorite room." In the meantime, I’ve grown fond of the upstairs bedroom and it’s panoramic view of Dogwood Circle.Making Progress

One afternoon, I actually got Barbara up the temporary staircase in order to show her the view of the circle. She liked it, but I have the feeling she doesn’t appreciate it as much as I do.

However, knowing the room is destined to become Anna Claire’s, Barbara humorously cautioned, "Don’t make a habit of going up there."

Tommy hopes to move his family into their new house at the end of this year. Meanwhile, construction tours are available daily, after the workmen have left. Just look for either Tommy or Anita Wood.


NIMBY In Pontotoc

When a developer in Pontotoc, MS, called Pontotoc County Habitat for Humanity last September with an offer to donate some land, it seemed like an answer to prayer. The site wasn't perfect¾ it would need a street extension and some fill work before construction could begin¾ but there was space for four houses. The affiliate had run out of lots to build on, and the timing was just right.

Barbara Carter, the affiliate's executive director, asked a local engineer to take a look at the lot to estimate how much site preparation would be needed before construction could begin. To help him find the location, the building supervisor placed a Habitat sign on the property on his way home.

The next morning, Carter's phone began ringing. By the end of the day, she had heard from both neighbors and their elected local representatives with questions about Habitat's plans, fears about changes in their community make-up and misconceptions about Habitat's methods.

"We should have contacted the neighbors first and filled them in, but we never thought it would be a problem," Carter says. "I never dreamed something like this would happen in Pontotoc. Every community has NIMBY [Not In My Back Yard] problems, but they've done like we've always done and tiptoed around it. But we just walked right into this one."

About 50 people attended a neighborhood meeting a few days later with concerns ranging from "Habitat houses will devalue our properties" to "We don't know who you're going to put in those houses." Carter came prepared with reports of the ways affordable housing can improve communities, but the group didn't believe them. Nor did her assurances that homeowners must meet the affiliate's selection criteria calm their apprehension.

At a stalemate, both sides withdrew to think about different options. The neighbors, some of whom had lived on the street for decades, were willing to buy the land from the affiliate to prevent construction. The affiliate had the legal rights to the land and could have proceeded with their building plans, even without neighborhood support. But the price¾ compromising the affiliate's ministry to the community and alienating a group of potential volunteers and donors¾ would be high.

Meanwhile, Carter did some soul-searching of her own, she says. At the meeting, a neighborhood resident had asked her why, if property values weren't impacted by Habitat houses, Carter hadn't built the houses in her own neighborhood. The question made her think twice about her own perspective on affordable housing.

"That question niggled in my mind for weeks," Carter says. "I went through a big struggle. I talked to my pastor about it, and I lost a lot of sleep over it. But I came to a firm decision that if my house and personal property became so valuable to me that it came between me and helping someone in need, then I have the wrong value on my things."

After months of negotiations, several of the concerned residents decided to buy the land at market rate from the affiliate. The affiliate, in turn, has used the money from the sale to purchase land for building in another part of town. And though difficult, Carter says the experience has not been entirely negative. The affiliate hopes to continue to educate the neighborhood about Habitat, perhaps by enlisting residents' aid through construction or the family selection committee.

"Maybe this is God's way of giving us an opportunity to share the Habitat ministry with a community that's not involved yet," Carter says.

"If nothing else good comes from this whole matter, it's been a growing experience for me."

Written by Rebekah Daniel¾ Published in June/ July 2004 | Habitat World¾ The Publication of Habitat for Humanity International¾ Used by permission.


Where’s My File Personal Computer - Personal Memory

The lead article for this issue comes a week later than planned. After writing an article on my hair a few weeks ago, titled "A New Do," I had the idea to write several articles centering on something new. I remember thinking I had a new computer due any day, a new company car was expected before the end of June, a new house was going up in my neighborhood, and with any luck a new grill might be on the agenda for Father’s Day. At the time, the new house provided the best material, for it was under construction, while the rest of the "new" things had not arrived.

I used my laptop computer to write the New House story two weeks ago, but the night I sat down to transfer everything over to my home computer, the New House article was nowhere to be found. I’ve come to distrust my short-term memory since having surgery. I’ve forgotten more in the past few months than I have in the past few years. Probably the best example of my memory problems occurred on June 10th.

I had an appointment with my urologist at 11:00 a.m. on Friday, June 11th. Somehow, I convinced myself the appointment was on Thursday, even though I had an appointment card to remind me of the date in my wallet and actually looked at it on the morning of June 10th, before leaving Pontotoc. I drove to Tupelo, signed in with the receptionist, and found a seat in the lobby to wait my turn to see a doctor.

Less than five minutes later, the receptionist called me to the desk and announced, "Mr. Carter, your appointment is not until tomorrow."

Somewhat embarrassed, I extracted my appointment card from my wallet, and sure enough, she was right.

I keep a copy of my work schedule on my computer, and, while I was certain I had entered the appointment for Thursday, I discovered otherwise. Somewhere along the way, a few brain cells shorted out, and I showed up a day early for my appointment.

When I could not find the New House article on my laptop, I managed to convince myself that perhaps I was mistaken and had left a copy of it on my office computer. A search on my office computer for the missing file proved futile.

The best evidence to show I had not lost my mind was in the MS Word program where I had last seen the article. There, listed among the recently opened files, was one titled, House.doc. However, attempts to open it produced an error message stating the file was not where I saved it and to look elsewhere.

Had I only lost one document on my laptop, I would be more inclined to blame myself as the agent of irresponsibility, but the following day, a second document was similarly lost. I recovered it from the trash bin while trying to locate the house article and saved it to a new location. Nonetheless, the next day it, too, was gone.

Readers, who also know the frustrations of managing files on a computer, have suggested several possibilities, even computer viruses. I had tried all of their suggestions before they mentioned them, and as for viruses, the latest virus protection files have turned up nothing. Oh well, a new computer is on the way, and maybe things will get better. But, now that I think about it, more powerful computers don’t make things better, they just provide more powerful frustrations.

Unable to locate the missing news article, and under pressure to get the newsletter in the mail before the weekend, I decided not to try to reconstruct the article at the last minute, and hastily wrote an article concerning lawn treatment. I don’t suppose I can count Nutri-Green as something with "new" in the title, but it was the best I could do at the time.

Readers, who noticed their newsletter was a day late last week, now know the reason.


Bodock Beau Are You Lonesome Tonight

The following, contributed by Bing Crausby, is an adaptation of an old Elvis song. Feel free to sing the lyrics.

Are you lonesome tonight?
Does your tummy feel tight?
Did you bring your Mylanta and Tums?
Does your memory stray,
To that bright sunny day,
When you had all your teeth and your gums?

Is your hairline receding?
Your eyes growing dim?
Hysterectomy for her,
And it’s prostate for him.
Does your back give you pain?
Do your knees predict rain?
Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?

Is your blood pressure up?
Good cholesterol down?
Are you eating your low fat cuisine?
All that oat bran and fruit,
Metamucil to boot.
Helps you run like
A well-oiled machine.

If it's football or baseball,
He sure knows the score.
Yes, he knows where it's at
But forgets what it's for.
So your gallbladder's gone,
But your gout lingers on,
Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?

When you're hungry, he's not,
When you're cold, he is hot,
Then you start that old thermostat war.
When you turn out the light,
He goes left and you go right,
Then you get his great symphonic snore.

He was once so romantic,
So witty and smart;
How did he turn out to be such
A cranky old fart?
So don't take any bets,
It's as good as it gets,
Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?

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