How to Enjoy a Perfect Home in an Imperfect House
By Bill Primavera
The Home Guru
‘Twas the night before New Year’s and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. I know that for sure because I had recently invited my trusty pest control company to come over to set some traps in the basement and attic, just to put my mind at ease.
On this snowy evening when others were out reveling, my wife and I decided to stay home and celebrate the arrival of the New Year alone together. We were in the sitting area of our bedroom below a window facing west, and feeling a chill, I remembered that the storm window had dropped to the ground and broken last winter, and I never got around to having it repaired. Franzoso Replacement Windows, you’ll receive that call I’ve been planning right after the holidays.
Both having the sniffles, I warmed some chicken noodle soup and was reminded that we were in need of a new stove. Atlantic Appliances, you’ll also hear from us next week. And while I’m at it, I’ll call the plumber to fix that leaky faucet in the bathroom and the electrician to replace the non-functioning light switch in the guest room and to hang the new chandelier that has been waiting patiently for installation since that sale last summer.
Before the magic moment arrived on television when the ball dropped in Times Square, I found myself stressing out about all the things that needed to be done in our house. Excuse me, I meant our home. There is a difference. And, WAIT, that very distinction between words should make a difference about the prospect of living in the imperfect house I call home.
Realtors are taught to refer to a property as a house before it is sold and as a home after a buyer assumes title. That makes sense. The word house refers to the structure, and there is no emotional involvement with mere bricks and mortar, or clapboard and nails. The word home denotes comfort, a feeling of belonging. It’s warm, it's personal.
As empty nesters, my wife and I live by ourselves in a residence that’s now too big for our needs. Many people are in the same boat right now, torn between right-sizing and the comfort zone of just staying put, supported by the reduced value of our properties in the past two years. But then, the anxiety starts up again. Will 2010 bring the beginning of the housing turnaround we are seeking? While I don’t expect my home to reach its former value this year or next, or maybe not even in the next four years or so, I know that what I sacrifice on the selling end of things, I can make up on the buying side. But still, there’s some anxiety about it.
For now, I wanted to ring in the New Year right by turning on that switch in my mind that surveys life based on the view that the glass is half full, rather than half empty. And that involves thinking less about our “house,” the physical trapping of where we live, and to concentrate more on the “home,” which according to H. L. Mencken “is not a mere transient shelter; its essence lies in the personalities of the people who live in it.” I believe strongly that a thousand sins of a house structure are forgiven when the concept of home takes over, with its fond memories of things past, its anticipation of great things to come, or a beautiful real time experience of the present.
Since the $8,000 tax credit went into effect, we realtors have been experiencing increased activity among buyer clients, and I’m showing a lot more homes in the past few weeks. As I do so, I am always impressed by the trouble homeowners go through to make their homes look ready to move into. There are some houses that, emotional attachment or not, you want to call a home when you see it, because the vibes it puts out from the family there, absent though they may be when we slip through, convey its message of “home” to the buyer.
That’s how I hope that my home projects itself to others when they visit. But I really don’t care if that is not the case. A relative once told me that she could never live in my house (who else but a relative would say such a thing?). When I asked why, she said because it was too formal for her taste and she had no fondness for antiques, which my wife and I collect. Formal, I thought? That Chippendale settee with the silver silk fabric is where we changed our baby’s diapers. That newel post was used as a scratching post by our beloved 20-year old cat Mitzi. That stain on the dining room table is purposely not removed because of the memories of a joyous 40th birthday party when it found its way there.
Recently I had occasion to visit the home where I spent my first eight years of life. Even though I was so young when I was there, I was immediately transported to that time when I called it home. The possessions of the current homeowners faded away, and I was engulfed by the warm energy I shared with that space many years ago. To me, I would still refer to this as a home. I feel that we leave our energy with our homes, and that they leave their energy with us.
So, on New Year’s Eve, while I stayed home nursing my sniffles, I thought about the events of the past year and anticipated a new year, free from worry about what needed to be done around the house, the space I call home.
While there’s nothing wrong with having all good intentions about those household chores to be done, may all of us have a perfect home in what we make of it, even if that happens to be in an imperfect house.
Bill Primavera is a licensed Realtor® (PrimaveraHomes.com), affiliated with Coldwell Banker, and a marketing practitioner (PrimaveraPR.com). He can be emailed at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it or reached directly at 914-522-2076.
Follow him on Twitter for housing market updates at Twitter/HomeGuruNY.