I’ve always believed, for reasons that are not clear to me, that the numbers that announce the address and location of a home are important. We bought our home from Florence Walrath, a tough, proud and independent woman who lived to be 104 years old. She told me she lived longer than she ever imagined she would, and had to stretch every penny she could. At life’s end, she was blind and ill, and hung on as best she could.

I doubt she even saw the faded numbers, decals, I think, pasted to the front porch. For two years I’ve wanted to remove them, they spoke of a tired house, one that needed attention and care. Florence, known for being fastidious and meticulous,  loved the old farmhouse as much or more than anyone could have, but she was exhausted, and smalll repairs are not a priority for those on the edge of life.

What’s in a number? A lot. Pride, dignity, affirmation.

We had a long list of urgent priorities, some having to do with the house, some with other things, and we just never got around to  replacing the fading numbers on our porch. I always look at the numbers of a house to see what I can see about the people living in it, if they love their house, they often take care with the numbers out front. I felt our faded numbers suggested the house was not loved in the way we love it, or that Florence loved it.

We have worked so hard on the house, planting trees, gardens, painting the outside and inside, repairing the roof, clearing out weeds and dying plants, fixing the electricity, scraping the grim old wall paper, tearing up the disintegrating tiles. The old numbers stood out more and more, they reminded me of the old house’s many struggles.  And ours.

We love the house, we have fought for it in many ways. It deserved some proud and shiny numbers. This was one issue I cared about deeply, Maria not so much. She never really paid attention to the numbers, she said. She thought I was a little crazy on the subject. But  we each respect the craziness in the other.

This week, with the Open House looming, I became determined to change the numbers. I went to local hardware stores, but could not find the polished brash I wanted. I found it on Amazon, I had to order it from two or three different places and pay some extra shipping to get the four numbers I needed – 2, 5, 0, then 2 again, here in time.

They came today, two by mail, two by Fedex. It was hot today, and we were tired, but I couldn’t wait any longer. Maria got her drill and screwdriver and can of white oil paint. We scraped the old 2502 decal, and then painted two coats of white paint over it. It dried quickly in the heat and afternoon sun.

We had to hand-screw the screws into the brash numbers, our drill bit was too big for the screws. It took about a half hour to finish it.

I am very happy with the number numbers, they are proud and shiny,and they say the house is loved and well cared for, that it’s hard times are over for now. This house has a long and glorious history, it was built sometime after 1800 and like, Florence, deserves dignity and respect.

I decided to post three photos, the one above, and the one below. And next up, the new numbers.

Below, painted over. The old numbers will not be seen again.