Now that the house and yard are nearly done from a whole-property, gut-job renovation, it feels like a good time to take a pause and think about the past – ahem – almost 10 years and what we’ve learned from nearly a decade of renovation. But to start, I will say this: while I absolutely love the result and the vision has truly come together, I’m both a little too old and a little too tired to ever do it again.
And yet… .
Well, I have to say, there is something to say about having your say. In the end, this house is completely and uniquely ours. It became a blend of the two of us in a way I’m not sure I totally expected. We each have our own style – I’m more traditional and Darryl is more modern – but we had enough crossover elements that the house is modern enough for Darryl, traditional enough for me and eminently comfortable.
Yesterday, I turned my office back into a bedroom. Ultimately, this is one of the last transitions before we say “finito” on all new spaces. (Granted, we still have the main bathroom to renovate and a garage to put up but this is affirming the last of the space functions.) Today, while I’m working in my office-now-a-spare-bedroom, I can still see the room with fresh eyes and it reflects a lot of what I hoped to achieve with all of the renovations: it feels like both of us.
Upstairs, we really both wanted that treehouse feel. Since our second floor has some pretty spectacular views of the trees and the nearby farmer’s field, the idea of a treehouse resonated. Obviously, we both had different takes on that theme. While Darryl and I both painted our offices a shade of green, they are complimentary but similar shades. And we both have the same shaker style doors and light maple wood floors. But that’s where the similarities end. Darryl’s office ceiling had to be redone and to accommodate that, we installed a natural pine shiplap ceiling. As it patinas, it creates more of a treetop feeling on the slanted peaks of the room. In my office, I went with a feature off-white wall and then cream colored lined curtains. For me, it creates that “breezy attic” feel I was going for. I now have a bed in my office (i.e. a second spare room) and I’ve kept the furniture a bit eclectic and minimal. It just feels cozy. Meanwhile, Darryl has a modern desk with black legs and a light woodgrain top complete with an extra monitor and printer. His is treetop office and it works for him.
Our upstairs guest bath was redone in a shade between sky and cornflower blue with white fixtures and shaker wood doors complimented with white trim. The tumbled marble cobble-stone style floor compliments the look and creates a river-meets-sky feel. Our bedroom has a mixture of pine and oak furniture with the light maple hardwood floors. Eventually, a fresh set of linens that inspire me will finish that room but for now it’s comfortable and breezy and that’s good enough.
All the while, it’s hard not to sometimes feel wistful about the opportunities we lost doing all of these renovations. Even though we recently got our honeymoon, it was 10 years delayed. There were countless weekends where everyone else was doing picnics or bike rides or hikes and we were working on our house. There is, of course, also the money spent and what else that money could have bought – additional savings towards early retirement, another fabulous vacation (or three)… the list could go on.
But on the flipside, I think about what we have created. Very soon, our house will be done and for years to come there will be nothing left but memories to make in this house. I think about simple things like pizza Fridays, doing a jigsaw puzzle in winter or cuddling up to watch a football game in fall. Or bigger events like holiday decorating or hosting a party and how the house will compliment those activities. The rooms will feel comfortable and welcoming. The memories made aided by the hard work we put in.
And finally, I think about the thoughtful way we renovated. It really wasn’t about adopting the latest style. Even with my husband’s modern-leaning roots, we focused on choosing timeless big-ticket items so that the house would not feel dated or lose the value of our work. More importantly, we renovated for how we wanted to live and how our house needed to function to support that. Our kitchen was the first example. By reconfiguring the layout to have an ergonomically friendly prep area right next to the stove with a spice drawer underneath, we gave ourselves the perfect place to prepare meals. My peninsula (which we can an island, because we’re weird), gives me a second prep area with no cabinets blocking my work space. It’s perfect for canning food or baking. We also took an unused walkway between our dining room and kitchen and expanded the kitchen out with bar stools on the island so that we have an “everynight” place for dinner. When we took down the walls and cabinetry that blocked the dining room in all three directions, we had plenty of space for a dining room that comfortably seats 12, enough for big family meals and a view from one end of the house to the other, which is particularly spectacular when I put up a 9-foot Christmas tree in the fireplace room. In reconfiguring the entryway to our mudroom/closet area, we were able to build a butler’s pantry/laundry room and half-bath while giving ourselves a big long wall on the other side for the custom couch with the double-chaise in the TV room to just lounge. And by opening up the so-called great room to the rest of the house, we can capture all of that glorious sun that fills that room and fill the entire downstairs with light.
All of these things were designed to fit how we live. Five years later, I wouldn’t change anything about the kitchen. Three years later, I would wrestle to the death if you tried to put those walls back up. And throughout the renovations, we even added more functionality. The side entrance to the mudroom now has hooks for coats and a place to drop muddy clothes, right next to the laundry. Each of our redone closets now have specifically built shelving and storage options for their purposes. Not many people need a recycling closet, but we did and the one we had put in works spectacularly for our needs. When it’s all said and done, the house will be as livable as we can make it. No more maneuvering around something or making something partially work because the house wasn’t designed for us. In the end, down to the office-spare-room combo, the house is uniquely fit for us.
I think that’s what I’m most proud of. The house simply works for us. Yesterday, when I put the bed into the room, I elevated it slightly so the kitties had plenty of space underneath for their own bolt hole. When we finally finish the landing (one of the last spaces to be done), it will be adorned with matching kitty beds in one area and a wrought iron library bookshelf I’ve had for years in the other. The view greeting you when you walk up the stairs will be much more welcoming – for man and beast alike.
These renovations have been a journey. From the very first day when we had the house insulated and sided while another set of contractors installed geothermal wells to today when the dregs are being finished by us. From a list last summer of 90 “small projects” to do to finish the house to that same list whittled down to just 32. From the week we spent using a ladder and ottomans to get ourselves and our pets up and down the stairs to the 42-inch wide stairway we have today, which allows for two people (or one and a litter of cats) to pass at once. From the day I came home from work to find the side yard destroyed with mounds of dirt everywhere from the geothermal installation to my perennial gardens needing just a coating of fresh mulch every year.
There will always be the smallest part of me that regrets the hours and the money spent. But as I watch my second-to-youngest rescue sleep peacefully on the spare bed in my office as his newest “found space”, I am mindful that we created this for a reason. And that reason was us.
The Yuppie Homesteader 