I Don't Know Enough to Know How Little I Know...

The dream of writing...
...And that's probably a good thing. Because if I knew, how little I know, I might have just rolled over and gone back to sleep this morning.

The reality of writing.
Take writing, just as an example. You start out with the best of intentions. You stop. You start. You get lost in the middle and have to start again. You "finish". You think you're done, then you realize you have to edit the thing. (What? You mean editors don't want your unedited copy?) Then after you get it as pearly clean as you can possibly accomplish at that stage of your writing career, someone else edits it. And now, with self-publishing taking the forefront, you've got to learn how to format it, upload it, create a cover, assign marketing channels, market it, hawk it, engage readers, blog it, (what I'm doing right now, although that part is pretty cathartic), group blog, Facebook it, tweet it, follow it, tag it. You're it! Write the next book...

See? If I knew, going into it, what I know now, I'd probably have never begun! Ignorance is bliss.

The same is true of house hunting, this month's latest venture. We've been looking for a place to purchase, out of town - nine hours away, in fact. So off we went to beautiful Savannah, Georgia, with a sheath of pages with pictures that promised homes of distinction for very little (relatively) money. And because I've been through the house hunting, home renovating process on multiple other occassions, I figured: Been there. Done that.

Did you read the title of this blog post? I just don't know enough to know how little I know...

The city of Savannah has an alternate notion for what constitutes "condemned". You have to know me and something of my housing history to understand, that I'm not afraid of a "good" renovation project. I've renovated houses with no heat, no insulation, built on log foundations, houses with chimneys that lean a good six inches away from the house, houses that required the shoveling of some not very pleasant human waste product, houses with holes in the walls, houses that required jacks and new floor joists, new flooring, drainage, backfill, roofs, varmit eviction. That sounds like a lot of houses, but really, it was only four separate houses. If there's a money pit out there, I've probably owned it at some point. Hopefully, it was a little bit nicer when I passed it on to someone else.

But in the past week, I've seen some doozies. Houses that made me afraid! I have seen creepy crawlies that would definitely carry you off in your sleep. I have been in houses this week where homeless people were squatting, heaven help them, and I fear for their safety. I've been in houses with "enforced abatement" signs, (some not very prominently placed), that warn of health hazards. I've been in houses the realtor declined to enter, and I'm looking at a real estate market that makes my head swim. I've written speculation letters to homeowners, whose homes sit abandoned...

And the journey continues. I have absolutely no idea where this journey will take us. I don't know enough to know how little I know... and that just might be the best thing all 'round.


  1. it strikes me that having kids is kinda like this too. or maybe even getting born.

    1. And if I had known the aliens I would produce and later call children... :) I never could have imagined.


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