That fresh-start feeling

It's OK if it doesn't last

Until a few weeks ago, our first-floor bathroom was over 100 years old.

The cold water tap barely let a trickle out – the ancient pipes were corroding from the inside. There was no light switch, just a tippy-toes-high switch on the single wall sconce. The door didn’t lock anymore. The century-old floor tile never, ever looked clean.

Most of these things I’d stopped really noticing. It’s like that clutter on the kitchen counter that, if pressed, you’d say you want to get rid of. But then you don’t. You just get used to it.

We finally decided to redo the bathroom this year. Yay! But, for a while, that was actually more annoying than the old limping-along one. The vanity door came with a big scratch on its edge. The wrong color tile got shipped to our house. Tiny stray spots of grout or paint needed to be scrubbed out. The metals on the mirror and faucet don’t really match. It was easy to see every tiny flaw.

It was like that sinking feeling of getting dirt on a brand-new pair of childhood sneakers. Who cares if the old ones were filthy and falling apart? The new ones were supposed to be perfect.

As summer winds down, we’re at a new-beginnings time of year. Even if you’re no longer in school, there’s always something fresh and promising about the start of fall. We just dropped our firstborn at college a few days ago, and our younger two are back to school this week. Fresh notebooks, fresh pens and pencils, even a fresh home for our oldest.

This year, there will be mistakes, there will be sadness, there will be frustrations. There will be disappointing grades and friend troubles and running-late mornings.

At first, this will seem harder because everything was so new and unspoiled just a minute ago. Like all others, this school year was perfect — until it actually began.

But then it will be better. Like new shoes that are comfortably broken in, or our lovely little imperfect new bathroom, this fall will find its own rhythm. We will find ourselves at home in that rhythm, we will accept that it was never going to be perfect. Neither are we, and that’s just as it should be.

New writing

Speaking of old things made new, I wanted to share my new article about repurposed Greyhound stations in Preservation magazine’s summer issue. I’m a fan of road trips, historic architecture, human stories, AND a good renovation (renovation bumps notwithstanding — see above), so this was a fascinating one to research and write.

So many captivating former stations did not make the cut — a Minneapolis club where part of “Purple Rain” was filmed; a vacant Idaho station with an amazing neon Greyhound sign that is stuck in negotiations over tribal land use; a lovely Art Deco theater that inexplicably did not seem to want the publicity(?); and so many more. But I did get to briefly shout out the tired but extraordinary Cleveland Greyhound station, which is now in the best possible hands with Playhouse Square Foundation, which knows all about helping historic properties thrive. I can’t wait to see what comes next.

Meanwhile, I’m wishing you and your people smooth transitions this season. What fresh starts do you have lined up for fall? I’d love to hear from you.

Warmly,

Sharon

P.S. Late summer sunset and marsh mallows (that’s really the name of this flower!). I love them.