Preface: It’s been awhile since I committed non-essential words to digital-paper-space. Sometimes professional word-crafting and other overwhelming projects get in the way (AKA: Life). I bet you know. YOU TOTALLY KNOW. So, I’ll attempt to catch up in segments. I’ll start where I left off….

April ’17: Once more into the breach!

We had already been through a lot with the epic property-rescue-project I call Black Sheep Farm Vashon. I’d determined that restoring the 1912 farmhouse, arguably past the point of restoring, would be the priority. That decision alone had met with, shall we say, a great deal of negativity from others. It had been a long and miserably wet winter. We’d cleared huge swaths of vicious vegetation, taken out house-threatening trees, demolished the majority of the interior, confronted many generations of rodent infestation {I will spare you the details} and hauled off innumerable loads of debris. We had done necessary repairs and put a new roof on the farmhouse, as well as put new roofs on all three of the salvageable outbuildings. We had done critical repairs in the horror-show cellar. We had made maybe the best decision, then and since, and entirely rebuilt the front porch. We had been at it for 6 full months with very few breaks in the action. At this point, we were neck-deep in it. There was zero objectivity. There was no consideration of the collateral effects to the other elements of life. There was just sheer determination. At the cost of reason? Perhaps. But, at the time, it was all forward momentum and I feared derailing it. So, we launched Phase5: Dealing with everything at the back part of the farmhouse.

This back section of the farmhouse was, educated-guess, a circa ‘50’s addition that was remodeled sometime in the ‘70’s. You can see the original, teeny-tiny farmhouse footprint in the floors – both the front and the back were additions from different eras with different degrees of success. The back being the worst of it. It contained a poorly laid-out and disproportionately large bathroom/laundry room combo, an over-crowded kitchen and a small, peculiar utility room/half-bath. It had been poorly built (both times) and featured extensive water and pest damage. It had skylights, which I have a deep aversion to. They’d been removed during the roof work but seriously, I hate skylights and needed every trace of their former existence removed. Basically, everything was wrong + I hate skylights. So, we set out to fix it – Phase5 began.

I knew going in that Phase5 would make or break the Farmhouse restoration. It was high-stakes, high-dollars and high-stress. I took time off of work. I ignored my birthday. The house I actually live in went to hell. Everything else was put on hold. Phase5 was undoing 60+ years of shoddy work and resulting damage: complete spans of framing repaired or reinforced on all sides, crawlspaces cleared, perimeter foundation walls repaired, spaces to be reconfigured, all new windows, entirely new plumbing and entirely new electrical. It was 800 sq. feet of everything that makes a house function adequately. It was crazy. I went for it.

May ’17: It all falls apart.

It was ON! Here’s an example of the episodic mayhem: When the repair work began on the framing on back, west walls of the house, it all fell out. FELL. OUT. ALL OF IT. Those walls weren’t braced, carefully removed and repaired in some methodical and careful way, which would be the “correct” way to do things. That’s not how it happened. The westside walls of the house fell down. Unless you’ve been through a SIDE OF YOUR HOUSE FALLING OUT, it’s hard to imagine. Here’s another example: We knew there were bugs. We had found evidence of carpenter ant damage. But HEY – THERE’S MULTIPLE, LIVE NESTS! Let’s disrupt those and see what happens, shall we? SO FUN. {BTW: Did you know chickens love to eat ants? Did you know you can vacuum up ants and deliver them to any given flock of deserving chickens? Oh, the wonderful things I’ve learned!} The day the existing floor joists were revealed to be sound, my brain froze. When my mind rebooted, I almost broke down into hysterical tears (or) laughter – I couldn’t decide. Hyper-emotional reactions to good news is surely a sign of an impending psychological break, right? RIGHT? The scope of work with contractors and sub-contractors was expanded and was reduced and was expanded again, sometimes on an hourly basis. We were basically working entirely in the moment, most of the time. We were running three solid weeks behind. Everyone was on the edge of a breakdown constantly. I had a partner at the time and flew him in to help. THAT went every kind of badly and resulted in far more harm than good.

It was not a good time.

 

FULL STOP:

May 24^th, 2017 would turn out to be the last time I would spend time with my Aunt – Suzanne May Massy. She and her husband Bill were in PacNw for a number of reasons, including visiting with my mother and had decided to spend a day on Vashon Island. This day trip fell smack-dab in the middle of Phase5 and I was worried I wouldn’t make a great impression – the timing was really bad. The farmhouse had been basically pulled apart at the seams. There was on-going construction and the related crews of tradespeople with their hands full. I was a wreck and Suzanne’s (not to mention, Bill’s) pending opinion mattered to me a great deal. Suzanne was a smart, practical lady – I’ll never know what she thought to herself in the Fall of ’16 when I invested pretty much my entire net worth into a dilapidated farmhouse that needed an almost inconceivable amount of work located on the outer-fringes of an island (Because: Crazy), but they made the trek to get out there and see it for themselves. It takes time to get out there and they didn’t have a surplus of it, so I was grateful they were making the effort despite my misgivings.

This turned out to be extremely meaningful occasion for a number of reasons. It was always entertaining to see my mother and her sister together. It was always heart-warming to see Suzanne and her “new” husband Bill together. They came and they walked the entire Black Sheep Farm property, all two acres, top-to-bottom. They spent a good deal of time, asked a number of smart, informed questions and they stamped their seal of approval on the project. We went to lunch, they had brought a birthday cake and staged a tiny, belated celebration, which was adorable. Really – it was an important day for me, then and now.

Suzanne and Bill are smart people, both common-sense smart and fancy academic-smart. By that point, there had been so much negativity, nay-saying and tearing-down of the farmhouse project, from so many other people I cared about, that I would’ve been happy merely to be spared any more criticism or snark. Instead, they went above and beyond – they were helpful, interested, encouraging and…enthusiastic. Suzanne had impeccable manners but anyone who knew her will tell you she wasn’t one for puffery. Believe you me – I’d been taken to task by Aunt Suzanne and more than once – the No-Nonsense ran strong in her. The infusion of genuine, intelligent enthusiasm during a long run of truly difficult days and weeks probably headed off a catastrophic breakdown. These were the emotional life-preserver moments. When an important relationship piece of the Black Sheep Farm project disintegrated a few days later, I was able to handle it. I am grateful beyond measure.

Aunt Suzanne died suddenly and unexpectedly in mid-October. It’s a terrible loss to many {I refer to it as a “rift in our continuum”}. The shock has been profound. The implications to our tenuous and far-flung extended family relationships are considerable. She was the chosen matriarch and an excellent one at that. I can’t know right now what will come to pass. I am lucky only in that I have no regrets. Nothing important went unsaid – I always made a point to tell her how much I loved her and respected her. I let her know I appreciated her and her steadfast support; for myself, for my mother, my sister, for her children and grandchildren, over the course of many and entire lifetimes. After the visit and consistently over the summer, she and I corresponded about various different and family-history-occasion-specific projects. Curiously enough on the subject of vintage, heirloom dresses, which is another story for another time. There were thoughtful emails back and forth about the nature of things. 

Suzanne continued to inquire after and say thoughtful and kind things about Black Sheep Farm, which meant more to me than I can articulate. I like to think that our respective passions for land conservation had something to do with it. She also consistently said nice things about my writerly offerings. High praise indeed from a librarian, a mother-of-writers and the wife-editor of yet another writer. So, I will not be the first, and I will probably not be the best, but I someday I will write a book about this entire Black Sheep Farm affair, or the misadventures of my earlier rock&roll life, or about the meaning of things and I will dedicate it to her. I can’t yet imagine moving past this loss (or, writing a book for that matter, or finishing the Black Sheep farmhouse for THAT matter). But, it’s some small comfort to know that should it turn out that I will be successful in one or more of these endeavors, it will be in no small part because of Suzanne’s influence and presence in my life. 

June ’17: What had to be done and what couldn’t be.

Back to Phase5 – it continued. To some degree, it isn’t “finished” to this day. This part of the farmhouse restoration had gone so far off-the-rails that the proverbial rails weren’t even relevant any longer. It was cut-my-losses time. I focused on basic functionality at this point. Set a temporary toilet and utility sink. Yes, that’s right, I’d been working on a house for a month with no toilet. I voluntarily paid “membership fees” to use the next-door neighbor’s bathroom. They were really nice about it. But, I digress – you love that about me.

New electrical rough-in is only 70% done and I only have two live circuits. The floors are every kind of unfinished even still. The beleaguered contractor had too much going on elsewhere. I had the entire house treated aggressively for bugs (all of them!). I also went ahead and proactively replaced the water main, which was in bad shape when I bought the place. The plumbers had called it for failing within the next year, and then we did some more damage when digging drainage trenches. Postponing replacing the water main just wasn’t reasonable at that point. So, we did that.

But, mainly, everyone still involved need to step back and recalibrate. I thought hard about selling and my real estate agent and I had some difficult “dreams die hard” discussions about it. Upshot of which was that I was in too deep now. I either need to finish this or take a crippling financial loss. I had passed the point of no return. I have to finish it or sustain financial damage beyond my capabilities to handle it. Not to mention, and everyone knows this about me, it is my dream now. I was down, but “out” wasn’t an option. The dream, it seems, can’t die. But, as the saying goes – “When you’re in a hole – stop digging.”

End of June ’17 Summary:

• Kitchen/Bathroom/Utility room: Framing + other “Rough-In” – reconfigured, repaired, reinforced.
• (7) New Windows.
• New water main.
• New “Rough-In” plumbing, temporary toilet and utility sink.
• New electrical panel, partial “Rough-In” electrical.
• Aggressive pest remediation.
• Second floor dormer spaces pre-production.
• Bank account drainage to less-than-zero.

= Done!

 

That’s a lot of stuff, right? YET, I’m maybe half-way there to having a “habitable” house, depending on your definition of habitable. Making a cute list of “= Undone!” just isn’t something I want to do now. I might cry and nobody wants that. Plus, I have the rest of the summer to write-chat about out AND the long-overdue “Black Sheep Farm VIP’s” gallery to complete, so stay tuned!

Here are some Oct. ’16 – Oct. ’17 Before and Now Collages. “After” has yet to come.

Front door – to – back wall Interior

Southwest corner – Exterior

Kitchen

Bathroom

Coming soon:

Black Sheep Farm Hall of Famers! – Photo Gallery of the few and the brave that have made the journey and lent support and shoulders.

Rite of Passage: The Fence, the dogs, the stop-gap consolation measures.