87. The Accidental Demolition

November 13, 2013September 1, 2015 / Apple Hill Cottage / 13 Comments

The demolition of the mudroom was planned. We had important work to get finished before real winter starts. After all, mudrooms are the bridge between the real house and the outdoors. We bought and installed the new window, stripped the walls and ceiling, Mr. H.C. did the electrical work… and then somehow, we managed to skip the finishing part, and ended in the living room taking out the walls.

This happened because we accidentally bought a new living room window. We hadn’t planned it this soon — the living room was to be later — but we all know what happens to plans…

Window trim pulled off led to a smell, that led to tearing off old paneling, that led to plaster that wasn’t worth saving, that led to finding no insulation in the walls, that led to bare studs in the living room…

And these are the lovely windows that started the accidental demolition of the living room.

They look pretty from the inside as well, despite the fact that they grace a stud wall.

These were three individual windows that were connected at the factory, I think for the sole purpose of making them heavier. Although we only had to install one window, it took four people to shove that window in the empty space. Thank you Matt and Joanna!

And just so you remember what it used to look like:

and from a distance, the old and the new:

The gray cedar shakes will be replaced with white cove siding that matches what is on the house already. I’d really like to get rid of the brick as well, but the idea of actually taking it off, makes me shudder. I’d like to talk Mr. H.C. into ~~painting it~~ letting me paint it, but that’s a long shot…

The rest of the yews are going too. Those two in the middle that are gone? Mr. H.C.’s tractor couldn’t even pull them out! He hacked at them with a chain saw and the roots are still there. Now we’ve got a new saying — tough as an old yew…

These sliding glass doors are next:

And they are going to be as tough as an old yew to change…

86. Demolishing the strongholds

November 2, 2013September 1, 2015 / Apple Hill Cottage / 11 Comments

We strapped on our armor this past week. We were doing battle.

safety glasses and masks

Against the creatures who have lived and died in our walls.

What is living in the walls of your house? The better question might be phrased What is dead in the walls of your house?

It isn’t pretty, and it isn’t picture-worthy. What? You say, you don’t really want to see pictures of Dead mice, Old nests, Dead ladybugs, Old hickory nut shells, Scat, and Spiders? Throw in dirty insulation, rusty nails, and forty-year old newspapers that have been stapled to the walls? And dust, lots and lots of plaster dust…

Lesson learned: If your house is neglected, unwanted creatures will move in to dwell with you.

I actually wished that the newspapers were in better shape — I love looking at old newspaper ads and reading articles from the seventies would be fun. But the newspapers were of the sort that couldn’t be touched without gloves — heavy duty work gloves, that is.

This newspaper is dated March 14, 1974.

I have stopped dithering about what is to be done next and decided to just go with what is. Or what will be? Everything we do to this old cottage is an improvement; so does it matter if one project isn’t quite finished before we start the next? Or, more accurately, does it matter how many rooms are torn up in the effort to finish them all?

Lesson learned: Demolition of walls is only fun once it is done.

The view from the living room through the holes. The mudroom has already been gutted; the living room is on its way….

The holes in the mudroom lead into the living room. An air conditioner was once there; a log box for storage and easy access for fireplace logs was once there too. Now they are just gaping holes that have to be repaired. Wiring is another issue. The wiring in the living room is just hodge-podged up there and has to be fixed. The electric panel is in the mudroom, and right now with those holes between the two rooms, it is a perfect time to rewire the living room too.

When we bought the window for the mudroom a few weeks ago, we also ordered a new series of windows for the living room. (Can’t pass up a sale on Anderson windows!) In order to take out the large window in the living room to replace it, we had to take off the current trim and a bit of the old paneling. Once we had some of the paneling off, there was a terrible stench. We have had bad smells at this place pretty often; we have torn up carpet, peeled off wallpaper, and scrubbed walls to get rid of smells. This one was very bad, so we had to keep tearing out to find the root of the evil, er…the smell.
Living room wall demolition

We are now down to bare studs on the living room wall. (We were hoping this wasn’t the plan…) But three dead mice later, the smell is gone. So now insulation is a necessity too.

Lesson learned: Every part of a house is interconnected.

We thought we would be doing this cottage one room at a time. It’s easier to manage that way; it’s easier to think about one room at a time. But the inter-connectedness of the wiring, walls, roofline, ceilings — all makes that impossible to do. And I’m okay with that — finally.

My post on the finishing of the kitchen that is ready to be published? It will just have to wait. And that’s okay too. After all, the whole house has to be finished for us to get featured on This Old House anyway. 😀

Lovely expensive sheers (K-mart special) hanging next to bare stud walls and insulation. Is this like leather and lace?

There are many lessons in this post, but these three should be repeated:

If you neglect your house, unwanted creatures will move in to dwell with you.
Your house is interconnected; it can’t be dealt with one room at a time.
Demolish the strongholds of ugly stuff today; the longer you wait, the bigger the job.

85. Dithering

October 14, 2013October 20, 2014 / Apple Hill Cottage / 15 Comments

We spend a lot of time dithering…

siding boards

Trying to figure out every angle before we start, so we won’t be surprised.

It never works, and we just end up with a work stoppage.

Yesterday, after a morning of spectacular dithering, I wondered to myself why we don’t discuss these problems on the way back and forth from house to house. We’ve got plenty of time; the drive is at least an hour, and that’s if all the cars and drivers are behaving. (And the cat; when the cat misbehaves we end up with a conversation stoppage…).

But then I realized that we don’t discuss these problems because they are Unforeseen. Unexpected. Unknowns.

While we were dithering
about the project
before we started,
we never thought THAT
would happen,
even though
we thought
that we had thought
of Everything
causes dithering again.

Painting of Apple Hill Cottage, ca.1973

When the cottage first became ours, it was rather like a new romance. Oh, we wandered around thinking of possibilities — how grand it would be if we could put in hardwood floors here; and maybe we could raise the roof there; and perhaps if we enclosed this part of the back porch it would make a lovely guest bedroom…
The basic plan was to bring the cottage back to the way it looked originally (as close as we could get it, at least…) That wasn’t dithering; it was dreaming, and wondering, and expanding possibilities.

But the honeymoon is over now because we have spent almost every spare moment working on this cottage. Nothing can surprise us now, and some of the charm has been lost in the reality of sweat, blood, finances, time, ~~arguments~~ discussions, and just plain exhaustion. It’s an old house; suddenly we have to move to plan B because the furnace blew up. Or suddenly we have to leave Plan A to fix the roof because it is leaking. Or suddenly we have to change Plan A because the new siding isn’t quite the same as the old siding… Can we just be done already and get on with life?

No? Then, let’s at least stop dithering and get on with the plan. (Uh, was that Plan A or Plan B?)

The troubles come when glitches occur in the actual plan. Sort of like life? Glitches abound. And are we going to dither; or are we ready to accept the problem, embrace the setback, and make the delay part of the plan?
peeling paint
And here is where Jesus can help. If we are trying to live life according to His plan, well then, it’s His plan — it’s not our plan. We just like to think it’s our plan and that we are in charge. And when we get too uppity about it, God will remind us. Most of the time He reminds us gently, and that’s when we are to say, “Oh, yes. God, it is yours, not mine. Forgive me for trying to take over.”

Lawn chairs in fall

Sometimes it’s a big thing; sometimes we just see through the glass darkly and we fight and kick and struggle for weeks, months, years… until the glass clears and we finally get it — the fight belongs to Him, not us. He made us and we are his. We are his people, the sheep of his pasture. (Psalm 100:3)

We dither because we are sheep. I know, it’s not a pleasant comparison, but there it is. Picture sheep running around the gated pasture bleating in confusion. Going nowhere and running in those circles cause befuddlement, bewilderment, agitation, and demoralization. Don’t ask me how I know this… (Read Luke 15 to be reminded. I need to be reminded of this often…)

But we have a good shepherd to lead us — one who never gives up on us no matter how far we wander;

mist in the hills

one who loves each one of us not because we are good, bad, black, or white, but simply because we are his;

one who constantly cares for us if we would just allow it.
the heavens

Note to self: Dithering is believing that your own plans might be better than God’s amazing plans! Embrace the delays and know that you are being taught something important.

Note to God: “Yes, God, it is truly yours, not mine. Forgive me for trying to take over.”