The upstairs front half wasn’t nearly the snap we expected

Now, to update you on much of the demolition and rebuilding that transpired while we engaged in uncovering the history of our old house. Or as I can now say with confidence, our historic house. I do hope you enjoyed reading those findings.

While I’m confident we do not have ghosts in our crannies, unlike some of our neighbors in theirs, I can say that after learning of the families who previously resided here, I am conscious of the earlier residents’ imprints. Our is not just any old house, then, but a manifestation of Eastport itself. I do wonder how the parade of earlier inhabitants would react to what we’re doing to the home. The few still living whom I’ve spoken with have been encouraging. And Anna M. Baskerville is, I hope, smiling over all of it.

My biggest lesson to date is that ours is an ongoing project, a work-in-progress, far from finished much less ever perfect. Still, we keep trying to come a bit closer to that ideal.

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As we entered 2024, we still had the front half of the upstairs to rip away and enlarge.

The biggest hurdle was already behind us — the insertion of the ridgepole the length of the roof and the four supporting columns. It was needed to hold up the old front rafters until they were replaced, and needed afterward, as well. The new front rafters would connect to it.

This round promised to be a piece of cake in comparison to what came before. There would be no plumbing to contend with.

We now knew how the roofing would come off, as well as the way that removing the knee walls would extend the wall of the new dustpan dormer out further than the two small dormers that were becoming history. Also, the color of the new metal roofing was already decided.

We even knew the brand and style of the windows.

If only it went that easily.

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We anticipated resuming full-force in the spring, but it was closer to the beginning of summer. Our contractor had a few earlier commitments to follow up on, for one thing, and then rainy weather forecasts set us back, for another, as well as health issues for our hardworking contractor.

And then those little dormers turned out to be far more complicated than expected. When they were added, apparently sometime after 1850, the rafters above them were simply severed, with no structural support. Adam was appalled. What were they thinking? How did it ever hold up, especially once a slate roof was added?

Weather didn’t cooperate, either. And then when all the debris would have been generated, we couldn’t get a dumpster – turns out they get booked out a year ahead around here for the town’s big Fourth of July festivities. Who’d a thunk?

And there were other delays.

Our plumber, for one, wound up on a big project out in Indiana and then another in Seattle. He promised to be back.

Some people thought we staged this as a theatrical statement, but the big tarp was a desperation replacement for several smaller ones – and it, too, got torn up in some fierce weather. We had some water “raining” in the two front parlors, despite the best efforts otherwise.

The roofing, eaves, window framing, new electrical lines, and spray-foam insulation all took time.

And there was the delay when the electrical panel in the cellar blew out and had to be replaced, along with the circuit-breaker box.

The upshot was that the front upstairs wasn’t buttoned up until Halloween, a bit over a year after we set forth, and then interior framed and drywalled finished just before Christmas.

Many people told us that was moving quickly by Eastport standards.

Uh-huh.

It has been an adventure, one that fluctuates wildly between elation and despair.