Apparently, I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying put. At least for now.
How do I know?
Because my main preoccupation these days is our house — my house. Fix it up. Make it pretty. Show it off.
This house and yard has been keeping me good company ever since mortality came crashing into my life four months ago today. Jon’s mortality and by extension my mortality.
Held in Place
The tree trimmers came in April. The new deck furniture arrived in May. And right now it’s the lovely, but crumbling, brick walkway in our backyard that’s holding me in place.
I’ve loved the walk’s rosy red bricks ever since Jon and I moved into this house forty-some years ago. And last summer, I found out that those bricks of ours were bona fide antiques — made 100 years ago as pavers, hard and tough, for the streets of San Francisco.
“Get Rid of Those Bricks”
I loved the bricks, but I thought I had to get rid of them. Contractor after contractor told me they couldn’t be salvaged. The walkway was falling apart and the bricks had no where to go but the dump.
Better to put in a stone stairway, the contractors told me. Or timber ties and decomposed granite.
Then along came a contractor I’ve dubbed Peter the Brick Guy. Peter likes my bricks. He thinks he can salvage them — pull them up, knock off the excess mortar, put them back.
And that’s what’s happening at my house right now. My rosy red bricks are piled high in the back yard, waiting to be be beautiful again.
I figure I’m good for another twenty years. The bricks — they’ll still be bricks in a 100 years. Widowed, I’m staying put for now. And so are my bricks.
Definitely keep the bricks! Once you’re able to lay them again, a good even underlayment should give you an even brick walkway. Maybe those advising you to get rid of them wanted them for themselves or to sell.
Ha! Yes, those bricks might be marketable. The other contractors I talked to thought that it would be too time consuming and expensive to remove the mortar from the bricks. But it turned out that most of it chipped right off. Also, the Brick Guy and I think they will look just fine — rustic — with bits of cement sticking to them.
I like the bricks too. The photo of Uncle Jon on them is cute, makes me think of uneven surfaces in a funhouse.
You mentioned your own mortality. That got me wondering if you’ve ever heard of the concept I recently heard of, “Swedish death cleaning”? I’ve been thinking a lot about mortality as well, of my parents’ generation and of my own, and now with a little baby, I find myself reflecting on the material goods my parents saved from my childhood, what I’ve amassed over the last nearly 40 years, and what I want to model for my daughter. I’d love to hear your thoughts on this in a future post.
Tell me more about what Swedish death cleaning is. Interesting. I am getting rid of a lot of stuff that I don’t want my kids to have to worry about. But I’m also keeping and enjoying many things I’ve collected over the years.
Such fun to have a piece of old San Francisco in your yard. I’d keep them as well
Which reminds me, I’ll have to ask the contractor to dig up and save the iris rhizomes in our back yard and find a place to replant them. They were present and doing just fine naturally when we moved into our house 40-plus years ago. They deserve to stay, along with the bricks.
Swedish death cleaning. This is the first I’ve heard of that expression. I have been doing a lot of organizing of stuff in the past couple of years, so that Peter and Christina are not presented with a depressing, time-consuming mess if I’m hit by a bus before my time. At this point I’m mostly trying to do things like get photos digitized, family records pulled together and family heirlooms cleaned and labeled. I’m getting rid of some things that I never really liked or are too big for our space, and I have stopped acquiring things like the textiles and ceramics I’ve collected for many years. But I’m not ready to downsize. I like my house. I like my stuff. So much of it is beautiful and brings me pleasure.
I remember and I love those old bricks! They have charm, style and history that doesn’t exist in our 50-year-old suburban community in Southern California. If you have a contractor who thinks he can salvage even a portion of these bricks on your property, go for it!
My years living in San Francisco are dear to my heart. Next time I’m there, I’ll have to take a second look at the bricks in the street. See if there are any Atlas pavers that didn’t make it to my back yard.
Here”s wishing you AT LEAST another 20 years to enjoy with your beautiful bricks –
Twenty years plus a couple of months is what I need to set the family record!
Lovely column Barb. And living in a country where no one throws old bricks away–where would the Dutch be if they did–bravo for keeping them. Every city in this country is built on bricks sometimes much older than yours. Keep them. They will bring you joy. Happy to see you working on the house….And Jon would be too. marl
Well, I’m a little bit Dutch on my mother’s side. And there were some bona fide Scottish bricklayers on my father’s side. So maybe I’m just following tradition here.
I’m with you – I love your old bricks!
So I guess I’m not crazy. Lots of people love bricks. Who knew?
Copper hand rail. That’s what I added to parallel our brick walkway. Go for it.
Nancy
I want to know more about that copper handrail. As I recall, it’s pretty. Can I come see it?
Love the old bricks and that you found the Brick Guy! Uneven? Nothing a pretty handrail won’t fix.
The handrail! That’s the next challenge. I has to look good, or the whole effect will be lost.