On becoming unbroken

Is My Broken House Simply a Reflection of My Life or is That Just Wishful Thinking?

Living life on the edge and gratitude for progress

“Don’t you just love that everything in this house has something about it that doesn’t quite work?”

I asked my eldest daughter this the other day, after having shown her how to feed each piece of paper into the printer since it seems to have given up being able to automatically feed them in.

It seems easier to go back to labour-intensive ways of getting some printing done rather than invest in a new printer that may just go wrong in a year’s time. I may as well keep this one hanging on for longer in its semi-broken fashion, in keeping with the rest of my life.

I was making light of the fact that these kinds of things seem to happen all the time, trying to laugh it off instead of getting down about it. And, knowing that my daughter generally sees my home, which she no longer considers her own since she took to the nomadic, backpacking life, as largely broken, I may as well laugh since the alternative is far too depressing.

I don’t know about anyone else but it sure seems like something new in my life decides to go kaput at very regular intervals.

Just this year, it began with my mobile phone freezing for periods of time and, after six weeks, it got the screen of death. Next it was the printer no longer being able to cope with the feed-in mechanism. And then it was the fan in the main oven giving up the ghost. Meanwhile, the electrics in my car have played up for two years, on and off.

This summer alone we have had our combi boiler die and the kitchen pipes do something weird that we haven’t yet resolved. Oh, and the hot tap in the kitchen has just stopped working.

Meanwhile, the toaster still only toasts on one side and I can’t seem to make a decision about which brand I want to replace it with, so one-sided toast it is for the meantime.

Just kidding — you can then turn the bread over and do the other side. In the same way that I hand feed each piece of paper into my printer, because it’s simpler to keep going with the same old broken gadgets until they eventually die.

And in the same way I simply pray to the speeding gods that I am not over the speed limit when my speedometer decides to stick itself at some random number. Which is very often. But since I have a car with a great engine and no actual mechanical issues, why would I worry about minor details such as speed, right?

As for my house, that’s another thing.

When we first moved in, nearly four years ago now, we had crumbling, leaking chimneys and a cracked and bowing bathroom roof. The old sash windows were rotting and had been sealed shut by the previous owner.

That’s what you get when you manage to nail an old house at a bargain price, after all!

From the get-go, I sought workmen to do what was needed. It took a while.

I needed to find someone who specialised in repairs of “listed” buildings — old buildings that have restrictions on what can be changed. Added to that I had financing partners who initially refused liability and then tried to screw me over, and so I also had to go down a legal route and am now still awaiting being awarded damages and repayment for the work.

In this case, not only was I trying to fix a broken house, but I was also dealing with people with broken brains and broken morals, making it all the more challenging. It took nearly three years to get the chimneys done and the bathroom roof was only replaced last month.

In the meantime, even though the rain seeped in through the chimneys, we still had a roof over our heads and warmth throughout the winter. And, even though heavy rain dripped in through the crack in the bathroom ceiling, we still had somewhere to wash ourselves in comfort.

I faced the challenge, overcame it, and I finally have a dry house to show for it.

It’s still far from perfect — there are still broken things, such as the old Velux window in my bedroom that will soon need replacing (I replaced the other one last year), two rooms still need re-plastering following the water damage, and the cats have ruined some of the carpets in the house. But these days, rather than feeling overwhelmed by the brokenness of it all, I feel like I am walking along the path towards having a whole house again.

It won’t be quick but I’m moving in the right direction.

And while it’s never going to be easy to get all this s#*t done, would life be as interesting if it was?

Are we better for being kept on our toes?

Did we ever get anywhere with things being easy? Or with things actually working like they are supposed to?

What if we were never challenged? What if we never had obstacles we had to contend with? Who would we be then?

It’s true that I often find myself feeling totally and utterly frustrated with my broken house, and shouting to no one in particular, “Why does everything in this goddam house break?”

But then I think back to when we first bought the place and how much I had to contend with then.

Slowly but surely, the house is becoming unbroken…mended.

And somehow I feel like the fixing of my house is a metaphor for my own life.

My own once broken, messy life, filled with broken, messy relationships, money struggles, and single motherhood is a life that seems less broken and messy these days. Just broken and messy enough to keep me on my toes and remind me that you don’t stop being a hot mess overnight.

Somehow, I feel like the fixing of my house is a metaphor for my own life.

It takes time, focus, determination, and gratitude for each step forward.

It takes being able to laugh in the face of adversity and being able to let go of the burden of the things you can’t necessarily control.

I certainly wouldn’t be the person I am today, having learnt to laugh when life turns a little topsy-turvy. I wouldn’t be the strong woman I am without ever having had real, physical life lessons to overcome.

If nothing ever broke, would life simply be boring?

And if things never went wrong, would we have anything against which to measure our progress, or measure the things that go right?

For now, I will leave you pondering this question.

And I will beg your forgiveness if I disappear a moment to order a new toaster, call the plumber, grab a quick shower in my newly dry bathroom, and raise a quick toast to me…becoming unbroken.