Tag: Home

So many threads have led to here

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

This pause in our renovations seems like an ideal time to reflect on the ways this project builds on much earlier dreams and becomes, perhaps by default, their culmination.

My junior high art teacher instilled in me a love of 20th century contemporary architecture as well as Japanese and Scandinavian art and culture. That dovetailed into Shaker traditions that had once existed just down the street from us and a county or two south as well. Plainness, exemplified by Quaker, Mennonite, and Brethren history is in my blood and bones, as I’ve learned digging into genealogy.

Add to that an appreciation for William Morris’ arts and crafts movement, which infused the bungalow I eventually owned in the Rust Belt, and my exposure to historic New England styles, including Queen Ann.

And then a sense of neighborhood, too.

Had you asked me at the outset where I wanted to live, I would have responded central city, perhaps in a high rise, or out in the wilderness, perhaps beside a mountain lake or stream. What was clear that suburban was nowhere in my preference.

So here I am in a historic sea captain’s home a block from the Atlantic yet at the edge of a funky downtown and arts scene and – utterly amazing, to me – within minutes of forest, lakes, and streams.

When I sit in our second-floor rooms, the heart of our renovation project, I have moments of feeling the best of both worlds. In following the new roofline for our ceilings, we’ve avoided creating boxes as the rooms. One criticism of so much architecture objects to “boxes with holes cut in them.” Rather than boxiness, sometimes I’m reminded of the contours within a ship’s hull or a sail overhead.

This time of year, I’m reminded, too, of the flurry of work just before the previous two Christmas celebrations. It got chaotic, up to six tradesmen at one time. We were tripping over ourselves as the rest of the family started showing up.

Throughout it all, we had the ongoing Viking Lumber deliveries, mostly with Tim driving. And our wonder at having the right contractor after all of the delays.

So here we are with the continuing surprise of the historical significance of the house, not just that it was 80 years older than it had been claimed, but that it had been so central to what has evolved here.

As our mason once asked, “How much is enough?”

For now, let’s leave it at that.

Books? Yes, we have plenty

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Mine is a family of booklovers, which means we need bookshelves everywhere in our renovated home. Make that two homes, considering the younger daughter and son-in-law, too, in their new purchase in suburban Boston. To that let me add one friend, a famed author, who had so many volumes stored in his Maine barn that one corner collapsed, according to the New York Times Sunday magazine. I’m not prepared for that possibility here in our historic house.

Still, this gets painful as we prepare for triage. What volumes must each of us keep, which ones become optional, and where will all of the remainder go?

On my end, after much culling, I’m finding my eyeballs no longer support the small type in many paperbacks, many of them with binding that is crumbling.

Gee, I’d never thought it would come to this. Take a deep sigh before they are trashed.

The other partners in this move will have to explain for themselves.

As for getting our old house through future winters?

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Ours has long been described as a cold house, at least through winter, even before we discovered how much heat had been leaking into upstairs despite attempts to seal that off. Now that our bedrooms are actually up there, it’s on longer considered a problem.

Or, as our contractor quipped, back then folks believed in letting a house breathe. Uh-huh. They did burn a lot of firewood.

Once we had a wood stove in place, we resolved to see how well that worked in our revamped place and make adjustments from there.

Our existing blown hot-air furnace is definitely inefficient. It even lacks an air filter. Like much of New England, it runs on pricy fuel oil. Beyond that, it’s also vulnerable to Maine’s notorious electrical outages. No electricity, the thermostat’s useless.

An obvious improvement would be turning to a heat exchanger, perhaps one tied into our existing downstairs duct work, though that would still be vulnerable to electrical outages. Or outrages, if you will.

The conversion would also work for cooling the house come summer, as needed. Not that we have many days like that, living on an island as we do.

In addition, we have those rotting downstairs sills to contend with, and the obsolete triple-track often badly out of whack storm windows and screens, plus the front and back doors.

As for cold intrusions? Who can be sure they’re really not ghosts?

We’ll do what we can at each step ahead.

We’re still looking forward to a transformed kitchen and a lot more

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 3 Comments

Under other conditions, this is where we would have started our renovations.

The kitchen, in our firmament, is the heart of a home. The one in our historic house needed some serious attention. Let me amend that, needs extensive remodeling.

The electric Montgomery Ward stovetop we inherited has a dead burner. If you’re too young to know about Monkey Wards, it was a major Chicago-based retail chain and mail-order empire that went bankrupt and out of business before Sears Roebuck. If I need to explain Sears and its Kenmore brand appliances, you really do need a history lesson. I’ll let you give me one in current pop culture in exchange. Back to the kitchen, for now. There’s no oven, other than the small tabletop convection unit we brought up with us. It’s definitely not big enough for a Thanksgiving turkey or a boneless beef prime rib, as was my birthday tradition in Dover, or even full trays of cookies for Christmas. A dishwasher is a necessity in today’s ideal world, especially when you consider my dishwashing skills, frankly, as falling short. The lack of decent electrical lighting over the sink doesn’t help. As for that lighting or additional electrical outlets? The list quickly grows. We weren’t expecting our redo to be as extensive as the one we undertook in Dover; do note, we also gleaned valuable insights from that. Or at least one of us had, the one whose opinion counts most.

Next to the kitchen was the mudroom, uninsulated and without electricity. We needed someplace to put a big freezer to augment the kitchen, garden, and marked-down grocery jackpots. The existing roof there was funky at best and leaking, along with exterior rot. New windows could point to space for new shelving, too. OK, we’ve addressed half of the mudroom checklist, for now.

The front door of the house, as previously noted, needs replacing, along with the downstairs windows and most of their sills. Anything to cut the heating bill, right?

At this point, we’ve decided to defer work on the downstairs bathroom aka the water closet.

Ditto for the emerging dining room slash crafts room with a butler’s pantry. The room which was my headquarters in the universe for five years.

And then, as for gutters? Or window dressings? Or new furnishings?

The bottom line in all of this has shifted but remains exciting, all the same.

Yet, when you’re married to one of the world’s great cooks, the state of the kitchen is a major consideration.

She and her elder daughter have some great ideas and dreams.

I, in turn, reap the benefits as these happen.

 

Ghosts in the neighborhood

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

I’ve previously posted on the phenomenon of ghosts residing in homes in New England, especially, somehow, Maine.

In that vein, I’m surprised we haven’t sensed anything in the household, especially considering its age. Maybe Anna Baskerville’s good vibes should get some credit here.

But I have asked about a few of our neighbors, and they quickly told of theirs. I am surprised by the details, including a smell or two. Also, so far, they seem to be limited to one per house and do prefer to don dark clothing.

At least they seem to be benign, only sad.

Note to self: Keep asking around. It is a great conversation starter.

~*~

Here are some related facts gleaned from Harper’s Index in recent years:

  • Minimum percentage of Americans who say they’ve had a paranormal experience: 67.
  • Who say this experience involved “smelling an unexplained odor”: 30.
  • Who say they have the ability to psychically sense others’ emotions or auras: 24.
  • Percentage of U.S. homeowners who believe their homes are haunted: 49.
  • Of Gen Z homeowners who believe this: 65.
  • Number of states in which sellers must respond truthfully if asked whether a murder has occurred in a home: 9.
  • If asked whether a home is haunted: 1.

Captain John’s incredible view

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

As I investigated the history of the rundown house we had bought, I was puzzled by a description that placed it at the corner of Shackford and Water streets, the other end of our block. Only later did I see that as the reality until Captain John Shackford senior sold off two lots a year before his death and the subsequent appearance of Third Street, perhaps the third east/west street in his tract but remaining the only numeral street in the entire city.

I keep trying to imagine his sweeping panoramic view from that time, with the waterfront below and its wharves still in his possession, and then out over the bay and the fields around him. None of the neighboring houses existed through most of that. The lot across Water Street, down to the tides, was steep and the upper part remained attached to our property until the late 1970s or so. My, how we’d love to still have that unobstructed view of Passamaquoddy Bay, the part known as Friar Roads!

As I consider the loss, let me mention it’s what’s too often hailed as the price of progress.

At least we have some great neighbors.

As for some fresh historical perspective

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Eastport has an active energy committee, which is good considering how many times we get hit with electrical outages. We live at the edge of the grid, after all, as well as on an island subject to some wild weather.

So while lunching at their Earth Day set of presentations, the man opposite me was asking about our house renovations. This is a small-town, after all, and everybody knows everything – or will.

As I explained the history of our place and some of its makeshift, even shocking, carpentry over the centuries, he interrupted me with an account of a father and son working on a project.

I thought he was talking about John Shackford senior and junior building our place.

As the two were working on the rafters, the son questioned his dad, “That’s six inches off, let me fix it.”

Naw, came the reply: “Just nail it!”

~*~

Sadly, I’m having to admit my realization of how often in my life that’s been the case.

And also, in our home project, how grateful I am that our contractor Adam would never settle for such sloppiness.

We fully intend for this house to last another 239 years.

 

We’re supposed to be flush with improvements

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Naturally, you must be curious about our new bathroom – what we’ve called our real bathroom, in contrast to the water closet on the first floor.

Well, for now, so are we.

As we considered our shrinking funding options, we admitted we didn’t have to finish the upstairs bathroom at this point, though having it done would deliver a definite quality of life improvement.

We wanted a tub that would be deep enough for a real soak – one that I could actually fit into without attempting hatha yoga with water. The tub also had to have a left-hand drain if we were to avoid having the pipe run against the outside wall, where it might freeze and burst in deep winter.

Our original choice, built-in or alcove, switched to a free-standing model after seeing one in a neighbor’s home during a party. We went back a week later to get a second look and measurements.

~*~

The toilet had to be a back-flushing model due to a shallow space in the flooring.

Having lighting above the sink and electrical outlets in the room would be huge advances over the water closet downstairs, as we learned in the 4½ years of its being our only option. Do note that having a carpenter who was also a licensed electrician meant that all of the lines and outlets would be in place before the drywall went up.

As for storage? A large medicine cabinet and a vanity for the sink are considered boffo additions, ones you probably take for granted in your own digs.

~*~

But once the bathroom and laundry room were plumbed, awaiting the next steps, we ran into complications.

First was actually ordering the tub and toilet and getting them delivered to our remote locale. Getting agreement on some of the selections added to our delay. Our plumber kept delaying, too, especially once in took a lucrative gig out in Indiana and then further out in Seattle. A potential replacement wasn’t interested in delivering what we wanted rather than the generic stuff they had it stock. All the while, our available money went to other parts of the renovation. So for, now, alas, this is moved over the next phase, whenever.

 

Decompression opens refocus

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

When the upstairs finally became available, we began moving items from the first floor and a few boxes from the storage units.

My new bedroom/studio was the first one to be fully ready for occupancy. It’s the smallest of the four, while the front two rooms were still being used by the carpenters as they worked on the front exterior. They still have some tweaks before coming into their intended use. The fourth, our guestroom, is at the moment mostly storage. This does seem to feel like musical chairs.

Still, things that had long been packed away have finally came out into daylight and become accessible. We’ve even had some more room to stir about in.

Not for long, though. The future dining room aka my former bedroom/studio was quickly designated as a staging area when we cleared out our storage unit at the other end of the state. In time, it will likely be a storage space when we get to renovating the kitchen and downstairs bathroom. Those Ikea kitchen cabinets, for one, will take up a lot of room somewhere before they go up on the wall. As for appliances? Or an extra sawhorse or two?

And we thought we were done with that sense of camping in this house?

Get ready for Phase Two, hopefully still in my lifetime.

Should you want to compare the before and after

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

You may have guessed we’ve taken tons of photos of the renovations in our historic home. You’ve been viewing some as progress reports in this weekly series, but those show steps along the way.

Sometimes it’s helpful to skip over those, going straight from how things looked at the beginning and then leaping to what the work delivered in the upstairs phase of renovations.

Should you be interested in that comparison, I’ve assembled a gallery of before-and-after contrasts in a free photo album, one I’m making available to you, should you be interested.

As I’ll explain next week, we’re hardly as far along as we had hoped. So I’m calling the album “Before & Midway After.”

In assembling the photographs, I was emotionally overrun in seeing how dramatic some of the advances have been. It’s helpful in facing the remaining work ahead.

~*~

That said, check out the free tour at Thistle Finch editions.

You’ll also find the history of the house and its previous residents in another booklet, should you be curious.