New House
On Dogwood Circle
There
is a new house under construction on Dogwood Circle. In fact,
its only two doors down from our house. Unlike the words of a Dolly
Parton song, theres 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 its 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. Its 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."
"Were within 500 square feet of agreement," she explained. "I told
Tommy I didnt see how we could manage with anything less."
I dont 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 didnt 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 dont want any
paper or plastic blowing into a neighbors yard. And, I dont 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 wont 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.
"Theyre finally starting on the flooring," Anita expressed excitedly.
I told the carpenters Ill be dancing on my floor tonight.
"Id 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 hasnt
matched Tommys work efforts, but shes 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 Kellys 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 cant stand to see water on my floor," Tommy volunteered. "But, Im
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, Im enjoying watching the house
take shape. The rooms along the back of the house will have a lot of glass
which Im sure will influence my choice of a "favorite room." In the
meantime, Ive grown fond of the upstairs bedroom and its panoramic
view of Dogwood
Circle.
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 doesnt appreciate it as much as I do.
However, knowing the room is destined to become Anna Claires, Barbara
humorously cautioned, "Dont 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.
Wheres 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 Fathers 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. Ive come to distrust my
short-term memory since having surgery. Ive 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 dont 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 dont 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 its 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?
Share this article with a friend.
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