Category: Wondrous Things

The other day we made a run to our rented storage unit to leave stuff we can't have at the new domicile (mainly things we kept in the garage at the old place— because we no longer have a garage).

While there, I noticed a box that I knew contained the large framed portraits of the material great-grandparents; something that had hung over the sofa in our family's living room for as long as I can remember. After my mom's passing a decade and a half ago I acquired them with hopes of having them reframed and hung somewhere in my house. That never happened, so at some point there were thrown in that box along with a couple of my paintings and a rather graphic AIDS awareness poster from San Francisco…not touched again in the last decade. I elected to drag the box back to the house with us with the intention of giving them to my sister who I knew would appreciate having them far more than I (even without reframing) and find a place to display them in her home.

After she'd come by and picked them up, I was about to haul the box out to the trash, but it seemed heavy for just a box of it size. I reached down into the box and squealed. There was a roll of 18" x 24" architectural drawings at the bottom.

Carefully unrolling them on the coffee table, they brought out a curious mix of emotions. I remembered making each and every one of them, but I'd assumed that they were long gone; lost years ago during one move or another.

Once upon a time I knew how to draw by hand—without a computer—a complete set of plans to build a house, a testament to just how much skill and knowledge I've lost since abandoning the architectural profession. I knew how the framing went together, the thicknesses, heights, and widths of various building materials, as well as how a window or door were set and anchored into a wall and what kind of flashing and weatherstripping was required. I knew how to draw a wiring schematic, laying out switches, lights, and outlets. I knew how plumbing worked.

Although I'm sure all that knowledge is still locked away somewhere in the recesses of my mind, it's definitely in cold storage and even if I were to take up the profession again tomorrow, I seriously doubt I'd be able to hit the ground running. (Plus, technology has changed a bit since the 90s.)

I almost want to get the lot of the drawings digitized for easy access; I may have to look into that once things settle down here. (In the meantime however, I will post some photographs in the next few days as a teaser of what all I found at the bottom of that box. Stay tuned.)