Home maintenance, an expression of love

We have resided in our current home some 23 years as of July 2015. It’s an older California Craftsman dating back to circa 1919. A Beautiful home it is.

Selling homes as I do, I see many. I actually bought my first home in 1983 with my then partner. I proceeded to buy and flip a number of homes through the years as I worked in healthcare. Becoming a realtor was a natural for me as I moved out of the healthcare profession. I understand the feeling, the energy that resides within walls of older homes well. The homes where families were raised, celebrations took place, memories made, milestones hit and disappointments accepted.

Some homes have good juju, others not so good and the rest somewhere in between. I don’t know exactly where it comes from, but it’s there. Could it be an energy from the original owners? From the ground beneath? From the design or construction? I’m not here to answer that question, but I do ponder it from time to time. I like to believe it’s the love shared within the walls that permeates them and passes to those that enter through the years.

Our home has good juju, really good. So much so that one day when answering a knock at the door, we found an older gentleman who asked if he could see the inside one more time, as he had grown up in the home. His grandfather had built it. He told his story which from bits and pieces we knew confirmed that he was who he said he was. We welcomed him in. He told us many stories about it as he walked through each room with the aid of his cane. Shortly after that the son of the owner we bought it from, who grew up here in the 1960s & 70s, offered to buy it back from us as he wishes that he had never let his mother sell it. You can just feel the happiness, love and peace when you are here, it’s a home, not just a house.

The fact our home is approaching 100 years in age, there always seems to be a project in need of doing. That coupled with the fact we have been living here for almost a quarter of a century ourselves. Currently painting is the number one item on the agenda. Not the whole house, but a good amount of the interior and some of the exterior trim. The kitchen is underway at the moment.

A portion of the kitchen facing the breakfast room behind the plastic. Our painter sprayed it with primer yesterday, today will be final coat.

A portion of the kitchen facing the breakfast room behind the plastic. Our painter sprayed it with primer yesterday, today will be final coat.

Living through these short periods of disruption can be a challenge. I have a coffee maker in my bathroom and will be eating out again today. Six dogs, work and just having a stranger working in the house all add to it, plus having contents of the cabinets stacked in boxes in the dining room….you get it. The house is a wreck.

Soon it will be all back together and family from the east coast arrives for a week long visit. The love shared within these walls will continue to permeate them. The walls in turn will reflect the love and care into us. It’s a beautiful cycle for which I am grateful.



Fearsome signs a petition

Fearsome is an animal lover.

Fearsome believes that all animals (especially those like himself that have large manes) should be respected and honored, not hunted and killed for sport.

American Dentist from Minneapolis MN pictured with his kill Cecil. Cecil was a revered lion safe in a Zimbanwe nature preserve until he was lured out of the preserve and killed.

American Dentist, Walter James Palmer, from Minneapolis MN pictured with his kill Cecil. Cecil was a revered lion safe in a Zimbanwe nature preserve until he was lured out of the preserve with food and killed.

Currently there is a petition to help extradite this killer to Zimbabwe for the crime he committed. At present he is apparently in hiding. You can add your name to the petition by clicking HERE.

Fearsome and all other endangered species thank you for your support.

You & I deserve …

-In this life you and I both deserve people in our lives that love us not despite our imperfections and vulnerabilities, but because of them.-

I just found this statement scratched on a note pad a moment ago as I am cleaning out a kitchen drawer preparing for the painter to paint our kitchen. I had written it down when watching Brene Brown’s TED talk. What a powerful statement. I’m so glad it got misplaced in that drawer. I found it right when I needed it.

It reminds me to be imperfect and vulnerable with those I love, without fear. I can only grow stronger through this process and our love more deep, more intimate.


Or I guess one could also spell it Sinceriously.

...from The Urban Dictionary...

…from The Urban Dictionary…

I first encountered this term on a t-shirt while waiting to get into the Wednesday Preview Night at Comic-Con San Diego. I liked it. I then encountered it two more times during the next four days. Funny how once you notice something it gets on your radar. I like it as defined and plan to sinseriously start using it when appropriate.

So as I’ve contemplated it I’ve decided to submit another definition to The Urban Dictionary. I hope they accept it. Like many English words it can have more than one definition. Look at it from this angle;


A serious desire to go out and commit sin. Fun sin. Adultery, drunkeness, gambling, lust…you’re getting the picture. In a sentence it would be used as such;

I just planned out my trip to Las Vegas and I’m gonna sinseriously. That guy is so hot I just want to sinseriously with him. With all this booze we have for our party tonight, it’s time to sinceriously.

Fun with words I say!


Holding hands

I came to a realization the other day. While driving I saw two bearish men walking down the street conversing, smiling and holding hands. My realization? I’ve never been one to hold hands.

I just have never been one for public displays of affection. I don’t know if it is some of the baggage I carry from growing up gay in the 1970s & 80s, being out but yet hiding that intimate part of me. Or if it is something from my childhood.

My family wasn’t the touchy type. I don’t really remember my parents holding hands, nor do I remember them holding mine. Was it a lack of this intimacy at the early stages that makes it foreign to me?

Dating the few girls I did in high school, I remember being uncomfortable when they reached out to hold hands. The dudes I dated in high school?….holding hands with them wasn’t an option, not in 1980. In 1980 it was more like date the girls, do what you could with them and then sneak off with one of the dudes to finish the job. If you know what I’m getting at.

Whatever it is, it doesn’t really matter. I need to get over it. I don’t think I will ever be one that skips around town holding my husband’s hand. I should hold his hand on occasion though. Holding hands is intimate. It is a nice way to show affection.

These two dudes seem to be very comfortable displaying their affection.

These two dudes seem to be very comfortable displaying their affection.



I believe we all have a common concept, but each have personal meaning for the word.

In recent years I have taken on a personal quest to find home within. I’ve been learning more about me and what makes me tick. I’ve become more comfortable in my own skin. I don’t have near all the answers. I don’t know all about me, but I know more. Progress is all I can ask of myself.

I believe in building esteem from within myself. I hope I can become more myself and a better man today than I was yesterday. In becoming better I can find that the security that I searched for in a physical house, a home, I already have within myself. Once I have that as part of me, I can in turn be better for those around me. I can give, love and share because I am secure, safe and assured.

A physical brick and mortar (in my case stucco) house is necessary for my physical body and family. If I have taken care of me first, my soul, I can turn that physical structure into a home for those I love. Through sharing that home, that love, I in turn have built a home for myself. A home I treasure.

So as I stroke Fearsome in contemplation of the meaning of home, I write. In writing I sort my thoughts for myself and share them with you. In writing this little blog post I am realizing that for me home means love. Love, security, sharing, safety, strength, shelter, family…home is a place where I can be me without fear or judgement. Home is a place, a worthy goal, to strive for both in my head and in my house.

“Home is a place where one starts from” ….T.S. Eliot