Any expectation of having the back half of the upstairs finished before starting on the front slowly faded from reality. We definitely wouldn’t be moving goods from downstairs or storage into the new space anytime soon.

Just look at the ridgepole and it was obvious Adam would need to have elbow room to work freely up while attaching the new rafters before any wall could go in.

He did have to demolish the drywall and framing that had separated the front and back rooms, and with that came my realization that putting up new drywall any time before the entire upstairs was ready for that phase of work was premature. As would be painting the walls, ceilings, and floors. Duh!

Adam’s big shock came when he exposed the top of the existing dormer and found that there was nothing to speak of holding the descending rafter. What were they thinking?

It was one more impending disaster that had somehow kept ticking until being defused now.

~*~

The front half promised to be less complex than the previous section. There was no plumbing and only two rooms rather than four. On the other hand, the top of the stairs might add some complications.

Our project was envisioned by other family members and my being included in their dream felt, well, adventurous. They had some definite ideas and strong opinions but were also practical, frugal, and flexible. I would have been content to leave well enough alone, if only their thinking and style hadn’t continued to impress me as we marched forward.

Remember, these are my retirement years, unlike theirs. I’ve been downsizing and discovering how much I can live without. I had some big dreams in the previous move, and when they didn’t manifest, I refocused.

But then, as our new dwelling was stripped of half of its top half, a reality began to excite me: my bedroom and studio workspace were shaping up as something entirely new, tailored for me. I wouldn’t be trying to fit into some previously existing room but rather shaping one to my own preferences. I thought of windows that would allow more bookshelves and wall for artwork yet still flood the room in natural light. The ceiling would feel airy, even though one side would be lower than ideal for me – in this case, we’d make it play into the angle. There would be abundant electrical outlets, too.

No longer would I have a washing machine in one corner, but rather I would have a door between my bed and the household access to the bathroom. Yes, privacy! I would miss the proximity to the kitchen and my overhearing phone-call details of our shared daily life here – that room is the hub of life in our home – but I would also feel freer to dial up the opera when others were also in the house.

We had already agreed to keep the flooring rather rustic, more or less matching the existing planks, and the walls white, to enhance the natural light. That left window coverings and trim color for accents. I was leaning toward blue, especially indigo I associate with Japanese fabric.

The big question was just how much of my goods I could fit into the room and perhaps how much might go into the emerging guest room, the mirror-image at the other end of the hallway.

As we pondered the emerging space, we opted to go for cathedral ceilings rather than flat and later, as a quirky touch, to keep the charred rafters at either gable exposed when the drywall went up.

These two rooms were starting to feel more like nests, actually. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.