The two weeks before Christmas got more than a little frantic around us, even without all of the holiday buildup. The renovation tradesmen were on a collision course. The spray foam crew gave us a date they would be in town for a bigger project down the street – they would dovetail us into the afternoon – but that meant the windows on the back half upstairs would have to be framed and the electrical outlets along the exterior wall would have to be in place before they arrived. We would also have to be out of the house for 24 hours afterward while the toxic vapors subsided.

Our contractor and his accomplished accomplice worked through the weekend to meet deadline.

We also had a plumber on-site – you don’t try to reschedule those guys, do you? It’s hard enough to get them at all. First, he was moving a cold-air duct for the new wood-burning stove and its metal chimney, accompanied by moving the water heater to make way for that metal chimney. As long as we were dealing with the water heater, we advanced our anticipated shift to a heat-exchange unit, which should drastically reduce our monthly electrical bill. While he was at it, he replaced the old sump pump and its precarious hoses. Some of those photos have already appeared in this series. We were delighted that the new stove and chimney were in place and working by Christmas Eve, when the rest of the family was visiting.

What I haven’t mentioned is the hurricane-force storm that hit a week before Christmas, pushing back the foam-installation crew by two days – along with our Airbnb reservation. (The tempest hit right after my choir’s two concerts, as if I needed any more activity.)

And then there we were, welcoming family and putting up the tree on Christmas Eve, this time in front of a warm fire.

The region sustained two similarly intense storms, back-to-back on January 10 and 13, along with widespread power outages. Having a wood stove meant we wouldn’t be freezing.

Our roofing held, front and back, unlike many of the others around town. Asphalt shingles popped up in our yards and along the streets like dandelions in springtime, but few of them were ours. Even new buildings suffered. Not that we could sit back smugly. Our front roofing was still precarious, awaiting the next big step of transformation come springtime. And here the insurance company had insisted three years earlier we had to replace it pronto?

 

With the windows framed and now outlined by the foam, we had a much clearer idea of how the upstairs was shaping up. In looking at the space, we found ourselves wondering if maybe we should just leave it as one big room. We let that dream give way to more practical thoughts, including gaining a second bathroom.

We did, though, decide to have the new ceiling rise with the roofline rather than be flat. It’s not quite as step as a cathedral, but who’s quibbling? It means the new bedrooms will be more like a tent or small pavilion rather than bland boxes.