There are some people in life that entertain you; the man that has restored this house is one of them. The house is old; in the beginning the exterior paint was long gone, the bare wood having been exposed years ago. The grass was high above the porch – and it seemed like the house would fall apart in general disrepair – an eyesore for those passing by and eventually it was lost in the jungle of the grass surrounding it. At some point I am assuming it was sold to him – who else would put this much effort in to bringing this house back to life? He painstakingly cut the grass – day in and day out chopping it with a machete. When he got it to a respectable length, he mowed it crisp and proper around a house that was sagging in age. Then started washing the windows and one day I passed while he was sweeping the porch; setting in to making it his home.
In a few days he had a reclining chair placed on the porch with a table next to it and often I would pass and see him sitting after a days’ work and visiting with friends or family. The house was constantly being worked on; however, the paint was still non-existent. Finally the day came that I passed to see him standing on a chair painting a bright color of yellow on the bottom half of the house and later a very old truck was parked up against the house – and he was standing on it painting as high up as he could reach. I can only assume someone eventually loaned him a ladder to paint, because he did finally get the top of the house and eaves with a tall ladder. The yellow was a traditional creole color, too bright for most people, but it seemed to fit his personality. He seemed to be always smiling or whistling while he went about his business of tending to his project. Often in the heat of south Louisiana, I would see him tending to his lawn with his machete to keep the grass and weeds at bay – then back to the business at hand; restoring his home.
Did I say that he was doing all this work around a still sagging, very tired looking house? How can you not respect a man that is feverishly working on a house that others would have gladly torn down? It was entertaining to me to pass and see what he had been working on – and eventually two very large concrete blocks were placed in the front yard and later painted the same mustard yellow that the house was. I could not imagine what he was using those for, but he has never ceased to amaze me, so I know it would eventually come to light.
Today I passed the home again. The painting was done and it had a fresh green coat of paint on the trim. Looking at the house, I had to give him credit – the house was still old, still sagging – but it was painted, the grass (what there is) is ‘cut’ and is nice and tidy around it. On my return trip past it, he was very neatly finishing painting the last word on the edge of the street. In very large, neatly painted letters was the word ‘DRIVEWAY’ – and the concrete blocks were set on either side to let people know where they could park – brightly painted the same yellow as his home.
In a few days he had a reclining chair placed on the porch with a table next to it and often I would pass and see him sitting after a days’ work and visiting with friends or family. The house was constantly being worked on; however, the paint was still non-existent. Finally the day came that I passed to see him standing on a chair painting a bright color of yellow on the bottom half of the house and later a very old truck was parked up against the house – and he was standing on it painting as high up as he could reach. I can only assume someone eventually loaned him a ladder to paint, because he did finally get the top of the house and eaves with a tall ladder. The yellow was a traditional creole color, too bright for most people, but it seemed to fit his personality. He seemed to be always smiling or whistling while he went about his business of tending to his project. Often in the heat of south Louisiana, I would see him tending to his lawn with his machete to keep the grass and weeds at bay – then back to the business at hand; restoring his home.
Did I say that he was doing all this work around a still sagging, very tired looking house? How can you not respect a man that is feverishly working on a house that others would have gladly torn down? It was entertaining to me to pass and see what he had been working on – and eventually two very large concrete blocks were placed in the front yard and later painted the same mustard yellow that the house was. I could not imagine what he was using those for, but he has never ceased to amaze me, so I know it would eventually come to light.
Today I passed the home again. The painting was done and it had a fresh green coat of paint on the trim. Looking at the house, I had to give him credit – the house was still old, still sagging – but it was painted, the grass (what there is) is ‘cut’ and is nice and tidy around it. On my return trip past it, he was very neatly finishing painting the last word on the edge of the street. In very large, neatly painted letters was the word ‘DRIVEWAY’ – and the concrete blocks were set on either side to let people know where they could park – brightly painted the same yellow as his home.
Some people just make you smile - this man is one of them :-)
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