Good times

Good times in West Brookfield yesterday. Two of my nieces (ages 7 and 9) arrived, chauffeured by my mom, and paid for their nickel tour. They were both a wee bit freaked out by the place, I don't think they could get out of it fast enough. Oddly, it was the farthest from home they'd ever been, and the most country. They are complete and total city slickers, which made for some amusement over the course of the day. They had heard that there were lots of deer around, and hoped to see them, and didn't understand that I could not just summon a deer at will. I think I cleared that particular misconception up for them while on our brief jaunt across the yard to the peach tree. They'd heard of the fabled peach tree and it's bumper crop a few weeks prior, but again, did not grasp the fact that there were no more peaches to be had until next year. They found that very odd. They also asked, repeatedly, where my horses were, and I seemed to think that I was already living in the house, sans mondern amenities. I cleared that up for them too.

We went apple picking at a nearby orchard, and I spotted a bald eagle soaring very close by, and so low it was easy to identify. That was a neat thing to be able to point out to them, but again, they were not as enamored of it as I was.

Returning to the house, we then took a walk out back, down the logging road towards the clearing that isn't a clearing. We left the road to go out into the woods for a ways, and then rather than backtrack, we had to do a bit of bushwacking to get back to the road. Nothing major, just winding around to find the best footing and least thorns, but the girls were really, genuinely concerned that we were lost in the woods. Luckily, we spotted some wild, fragrant concord grapes within arm's reach and assured them that even if we were lost at least we wouldn't starve! I don't think that made them feel any better. I don't think they felt really better until our cars were back in sight.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, an hour or so of cutting back underbrush revealed the oft-glimpsed, never touched cornerstone that is the end of the stone wall. I cleared it back enough to sit on without being attacked by thorns. Couldn't do too much more than that as one weedwacker looked like its gas somehow got contaminated, and the mower deck is still out for repair, waiting on a part. So after apple picking and our walk in the not-quite-hundred-acre wood, I found a trunk of winter clothes, loaded up the cowgirl cadillac, and headed home.

It was a quintessential New England fall day, replete with family and foliage.

Resuming...

So here we are, let me see, almost 6 months later, really wanting to start this blog back up again! They were not dull months by any means, rather, they were action packed and full of drama, hence the lack of typing time. During this blog hiatus, I said goodbye to my live-able house, my four+ year relationship, and, sadly, mourned the loss of four family members.

But enough of the bad news. The good news is I sold the other house so I am free to begin work in earnest on this one, and jettisoned the ball & chain that was my ex. I feel as though a thousand pounds has been lifted from me. I am currently crafting the final plans and working on getting quotes from the various trades before I pursue construction financing. I continue to go up to the site once a week at least, although tangible progress is limited, my time there is mostly spent keeping up the mowing, weedwacking, etc., in order to prevent the yard from being reclaimed by the encroaching jungle. Some days, like today, we (by we I mean my father and I) actually manage to clear more weeds and brush. But it's a bit of a fluke, as we had to weed-eat and hand saw & clip because the mower deck is out for repair, when we took it off to replace the beat-up blades yesterday (did I mention all the camouflaged rocks in the yard?) we found a bearing to be bad, so off to the repair shop it went. I no longer have the tools necessary for that job, thanks to the aforementioned ex (but I'm not bitter).

The only "real" progress to report is the restoration of permanent power! The electrical service has been updated to a 200A panel, and several temporary circuits tied in, as well as the garage sub-panel. So the main house has outlets on every floor, basement to attic, and the entire garage is powered, lights and outlets. Next I will start demolishing the old BX that is left throughout the house, as well as roughing in the new branch circuits. I expect to be able to do a lot now that there is light, however I feel a bit chastened when I think that this behemoth was originally built well before the days of electricity!

Getting up to date

In the interests of getting this story up to date so I can begin tracking progress in real time, here is the condensed version of events from July 2008 to date.

After the post & beam inspection, we decided the house was worth investing in, we made an offer and it was accepted. But, the seller wouldn't sign the P&S, probably trying to cut a better deal elsewhere. And of course, supposedly there was another interested party. We wound up backing out of the deal when we couldn't get the timing of the construction loan to work, knowing that it could take a while to sell my current house. It supposedly it went under agreement to someone else at that time. A month or so later, I got an email letting me know that that deal was off, and were we still interested? And why don't we get a commercial loan? Here's my banker's info...So we did. We closed on September 30th 2008. A day that shall live in infamy. The anniversary of my insanity.

The weather turned cold quickly, and I'm a wuss about the cold so we made only a few more weekend trips to the house before the snow flew. We tried to cut the lawn with the riding mower - and wound up smoking the belt. We returned with a rented brush hog - and wound up smoking the belt. It's a jungle in there! 5 years of growth will do that, I suppose. At least we found the front lawn. My brother, Nick, and I also spent a lively afternoon chasing the pigeons out while Matt fastened hardware cloth (1/2 inch mesh) over the broken windows in the ell, where they had been roosting. Matt was standing on the beams in the ell to do the upper window while the pigeons dive-bombed him. I thought he was going to fall, and keep falling, right through the floor into the crawl space. But he didn't. This must be my lucky house.

That was our last trip before the snow fell. We managed to meet two sets of the neighbors on our various trips, and both were happy to hear that we had planned to restore the house and not develop the land.

We made a visit at New Year's to make sure there was no damage from the ice storm, and all was well. I did a drive-by on my way out to NY for business in February but couldn't get in to the driveway - too much snow, the driveway was severely plowed in.

We returned in March; Mom, Dad, Danny, Nick, and I, on a nice warm day (warm being a relative term), and after checking the house and finding the pigeons returned, in the attic this time, where a window pane fell out, we trekked out back. We went down the northeast side, about 1/2 way back, and were able to find several marked boundary points, as well as some nice timber and a tiny babbling brook. We then went across the property, where Dad and I split from the others on the way back, going all the way to the southwest side. We walked back along the stone wall, for a hundred feet or so on the stone wall, as it got too boggy to cross otherwise without a major detour. We crashed through the vines and thorns and re-emerged behind the house.

The following Saturday, Matt, Nick, and I went back again with a load of stuff from our garage to store, and went all the way to the back of the property, following the logging road. What a mess they left behind. Entire trees just left, mostly pine they had to take down to get to the hardwood. Hardwood tops left in the middle of the road. Still good for firewood if we get it out soon. Once we got to beyond where they stopped, the land got a lot more rolling, and the trees, even the pines, are magnificent. We could see the big brook, and the flash of sun off cars on the road beyond. There are no stone walls back there, making it harder to find exactly where the boundaries are.

So now we are up to date, albeit the extremely condensed version of events. I expect to have much more regular progress reports going forward, and I bought a new camera to document it all! Stay tuned!

The whole famn damily

So I can't get this house out of my head, despite all logical arguments about what a project it is, how the timing is bad as far as selling my current house, etc., etc., etc.... So I decide to have a post and beam specialist look at it to make sure it is structurally sound and worth investing in. I schedule a local company to do the evaluation.

I leave work early one day, meeting my parents, brother, and Matt at the Wrentham outlets. We all pile into Mom's minivan and head to the house. Mom and Danny were with me on the first visit, but Matt and Dad were working. So they need to see it for themselves. I'm certain they'll love it. What's not to love?

There's a car in the driveway when we arrive, but it is not the post & beam specialist. It is some random guy, standing in the doorway of the side entrance, apparently afraid to go in. We said hello, he mumbled something about "I heard this was for sale..." and gave me quite the look when I responded "yeah, isn't it great?" He hastily got in his car and left. Hilarious.

Matt, Dad, Danny, and I walk further back onto the land then I had gone the first time, and there is definitely pasture potential here, given enough heavy equipment, that is. Some mature trees, but a lot of brushy undergrowth and young growth trees as well. We reach a clearing that looks as though it had been logged at some point in the not too distant past, then turn around to get back to the house in time to meet Tom Green of Colonial Restorations.

Tom gives the structure a thorough inspection, I think he's happy being able to see everything exposed, it certainly eliminates the guesswork. The verdict is a happy one, overall the frame is in good shape, certainly worth investing in. I've been told the house was built in 1850, Tom is able to verify that this is about right due to the fact that the timbers were cut with a circular saw, rather than handhewn. According to him, the circular sawmill was invented around 1830, and it probably took a while to get to this town! The timbers are heavier than he expected to see in a house of this vintage, 8x8 & 9x9 rather the the 6x6 more usual for the time period. Rather than being left as gunstock corners, they have instead been carved out so the walls could be installed flush. I am assured that this does not compromise the structural strength. There is better than average bracing in place as well, and minimal spreading of those joints over the years.

I think, and Tom concurs, that the ell on the back of the house has a timber frame that seems older than the main house. It wsa certainly built separately, with different joinery styles of the timber frame, and a completely different method of roof joists as well. We suspect that it may have been attached to the house after it was built. I don't think the ell was there first since there is a window hole cut into the upstairs bedroom wall that looks down into the ell, it is the same size and placement as the other windows. To me, that says the main house stood separately and then the ell was attached later. Particularly as there is no evidence of a floor having ever existed in what would be the ell's second story, which would make the window a door opening. Although there is a window in the peak of the ell's far end. So the jury's still out on that one. Opinions welcome.




The attic is a surprise, with its canted posts. This style is more commonly seen in barns than houses. Was this frame intended to be a barn? I like barns. I wasn't born in a barn, but I got into one just as soon as I could! The planks that form the roof sheathing are plainly visible, bark still attached. The house needs a roof, and re-sheathing with plywood should add some rigidity to the joist system that Tom feels could be beneficial.

The basement is next. This is where we expect to find some damage, and we are not disappointed. There are two beams that need about 5 feet replaced each, and 20 feet or so of rotten sill. I am not surprised since the rotted sill under the front door is clearly visible from above, and the other bad area is where there are piles of debris against the house outside, likely trapping water. The floor joists span a little further than they should, and consequently bounce a bit when they are walked across upstairs, so Tom recommends reinforcing them from the basement with new pilings, posts, and headers. That will take some of the sag out of the floor, and prevent it from getting any worse. The ell floor will need the same treatment.

So if I was looking for a reason to not buy it, the structure isn't it. It certainly is worth investing in, it definitely needs repair, but is remarkably straight and square given its age, and well-built.

In the beginning

In the beginning, there was an obscure for-sale ad stumbled across on equinesite.com's real estate section. Not having any intention of house shopping, why was I even there? Bored, I suppose. Nonetheless, there I found myself. Staring at an ad stating something to the effect of "gutted colonial on 60+ acres". Accompanied by a price I thought had to be wrong. They meant to put a 1 comma in front of that, didn't they??? Hmmm...I'll just email to get the scoop. What the heck, right?

Blink, and I am pulling in to the driveway on a gray afternoon in late May 2008, thunderstorm threatening. First glimpse: white vinyl siding, sun-faded black shutters. Sign at the front door declares Private Property. Sidelight windows on both sides of the front door, broken panes stuffed with insulation and black plastic. Gorgeous leaded glass fanlight above. Front steps crumbling, from what I can see of them through the long grass. Enormous rhododendron, in full fuschia bloom, obscures one front window. After brief introductions with the realtor outside, we negotiate the broken asphalt walkway and mount the rickety steps to the side door.

Tour the house, equipped with flashlights heavy enough to use as clubs in case the boogeyman appears. There are few things in life creepier than an empty, unfamiliar, gutted-to-the-studs, built-before-the-civil-war house during a thunderstorm. Especially the cavernous, windowless fieldstone basement. Successfully avoid breaking legs on holes in floor, loose boards, etc. At least one dead, decomposed bird per room. Bird turd covers the wide pine floorboards. Broken windows in what has to have been the kitchen, an ell off the main house that connects through to the (mercifully) new three-car garage. Water flows down around one chimney as the rain catches up with the thunder. More water pours into the basement where the bulkhead should be. There is only one conclusion to be drawn here, so I promptly draw it: this house needs me.

Thunder past, we traipse out along a dirt road of sorts to scope out the land. Several pits were dug at some point in the not-too-distant past, and are now full of standing water. Nice mosquito breeding operation they have going here. Lovely stone walls, though, and other than the pits, not too un-level. It's too lushly overgrown to go very far back, though, and it's still drizzling, so we turn around and walk back to the house. Approaching from the back, there are piles of debris in the back yard, apparently from the demolition. Nothing has been mowed in years. Before leaving, we carefully check for ticks, and thankfully manage to find them before they bite.

Drive away thinking: yikes. What a project, yet what potential! I'm going to make this happen.