In the english language, Black Sheep is an idiom used to describe an odd or disreputable member of a group, especially within a family. The term stems from the genetic effect in sheep whereby a recessive gene occasionally manifests in the birth of a sheep with black rather than white coloring; these sheep stand out in the flock and their wool is considered less valuable.
The term has typically been given negative implications, implying waywardness. – Wikipedia
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The black sheep live on the westside. They were present the first time I walked the length of the Vashon property I’m just crazy enough to have purchased. I was completely distracted by and downright silly about the black sheep, as urban dwellers tend to be over livestock in general. My long-suffering real estate agent, having come to know me well during our 5-years worth of association searching for properties I could handle (acquiring and owning), remarked upon the metaphorical implications. Which is to say – there’s probably no better property for me than one with black sheep next door. The sheep are elusive and shy and for a brief time I thought perhaps I had imagined them. But I’ve seen them, met the westside neighbors, heard the sheep’s backstory, and come to own the property since and named the property for them.
This is where the three black sheep live. This story began with them.
PERSONAL PROLOUGE:
I like Vashon. A lot. I like my new-real-life in West Seattle a lot, too. Vashon is more about my dream-y life. I aim to have a foot on both sides.
For years, I’ve been shut out of buying a place on Vashon for a number of reasons, which mostly can be summed up as “Money”. Life logistics play a significant role as well, and the Vashon dream has been stalled and postponed a few times. I’ve come very close to giving up, many times. I’ve come to know a lot more about “Giving Up” over the last seven years. Over the last two years, I’ve retired (with honors) from the live music biz, mostly because I was plainly too old for it. I’ve had to surrender my house of 18 years (AKA “139”) and relocate my household across town to West Seattle (AKA “The Hobbit House”) in the most sensible and least collateral-damage kinda way possible. So, there’s been plenty going on and if I’ve mastered anything in this life it’s picking battles.
This property came along at the wrong time, in the wrong way, but at a reasonable price. You really can’t be scared, even if you should be, in this real estate market. Anyhoo – it was reasonably priced for a number of reasons, which mostly can be summed up as “It’s in really bad shape”. To be clear – the property is amazing and bucolic and picturesque, but the farmhouse has been….neglected. But, that was the case with 139 when I bought it and at the time I didn’t know jack-all anything about houses, not to mention OLD, beat-to-hell houses. Plus, when it comes to stuff in crappy condition – who am I to judge? I’m in terrible shape. What of it?
HOW BAD CAN IT BE?
It’s bad. I get really excited when inspectors and contractors say things like, “Well……it’s not THAT bad.” I tend to stop listening when they immediately follow up with, “I mean, ANYTHING can be done with enough time, money and fortitude”. I can check off two of those things, for sure. That’ll hopefully be enough. Some highlights of “How Bad” include:
If you’re a fan of house-eating bugs, c’mon on by! You won’t have to pick your favorite (Powderpost Beetles, Carpenter Ants, Termites – regular AND subterranean) because we have them ALL! Do you love structural engineering? Don’t come on by, you might not be totally psyched about how the farmhouse has “settled”. What – you think trench perimeter drainage is a really swell idea? SO DO WE. Too bad the former owners didn’t. Also – sure – that mold might be black but don’t sweat it. We have respirators and we love black. More than 75% of my wardrobe is black so good on me for not having to worry about my outfits clashing with the mold. Right?
Here’s the front porch – please note listing AND fire damage – Score! If you pay close attention, there’s also ingrown vines, missing railings and extensive wood rot. It’s like everything wrong all in one place.
Here’s the back of the farmhouse, back porch and decks. Totally fixable. Not.
Wanna see the interior? SURE – Why not. C’mon on in! Little paint, some decorative accent pieces, maybe a rug…It’s gonna be fine.
The cellar (that’s where the foundation lives) is super cool. Especially if you want to work on the horror-movie we’ll be producing that involves a stark-raving-mad, middle-aged spinster that goes on a killing spree with vintage outboard motors.
WAIT – HOLD ON! Don’t I hate rodents? Like, A LOT? Like am manically phobic about them? What on earth am I doing with a FARM?
Ok, first of all – you get 10 extra-credit points for knowing me so well. Congrats! Second of all – Shut it. I’m a very complex person. Let’s leave it at that.
HAVE I GONE COMPLETELY MAD?
I might be willing to concede the farmhouse needs a little work. Maybe even a lot of work. Haven’t shared the glorious situation with the roof(s) because, well, they’re 25+ years worth of gone. Oh well – What’s 4 new roofs at this point?
So, why? Here are some pictures of the rest of Black Sheep. This is WHY. For the “Whole” of it. For the space and the outbuildings and the fact that “Outer-Quartermaster Harbor” is like three blocks away. For the history and the dirt and the “Swale” (which is the shallow dip in the land down the center of the property). Also, yes, I’m a little nuts. Ask anyone.
So, really, all we have to do is fix it all up and Black Sheep will be perfect. Won’t happen overnight and I’m sure we’ll have plenty of breakdowns, but c’mon – it’s going to be awesome. Because it took me so long and so much to get here.
WHAT’S THE PLAN?
The plan is to fix it up. Duh. Goes something like this:
Phase 1 – Buy It. Check. Whoo – Hoo! We’re practically all done now. Couple/few things left to be done over the next little while:
Phase 2 – Hold it. That’s where we’re at now and through the winter:
- Clean up the mess.
- So much demo.
- So much brutal tree and plant killing. In a related note: F*U Wisteria.
- So much getting rid of every kind of debris, some of it by permitted burning, apparently. Who knew?
- Secure the property.
- Replace some structural something or other under the house. You’d think I was paying attention, right?
- Kill the bugs. No mercy.
- Tarp, board and otherwise seal things up.
- Redirect water. Because water’s really good at taking direction. Not.
- Deer fencing. I hate the deer. I plan to become Vashon’s next great local character vis-à-vis my frequent loud screaming tantrums at the deer. Which, btw, isn’t effective. The deer are completely unmoved by my disdain.
- Figure out where the money’s coming from.
- This means working. Basically.
- Maintain our home lives.
Phase 3 – Restore the farmhouse next spring. There will be a lot of contemplation about renting it because it’s hard to find a rental out there and there may be some people we like that need a place.
Phase 4 – Convert the barn into shared live/work space. {No, I will not give it to you. In the very unlikely event I give the barn to anyone, many have asked and I can certainly add your name to the list}.
Phase 5 – Grow some stuff and spend all our downtime out there. Ultimately, retire in our small Utopia that we created basically with the sheer force of our wills and content of our characters.
GRATITUDE
From the Vashon side – I have to thank: Leslie Ferriel at John L Scott real estate for 5+ long years of supporting the “Vashon Dream” only to have to tap out for the grand finale. Picking up the thread and managing under trying circumstances – Deb Cain. Thank you both.
Couldn’t have done it without Lisa, Paul and their nice family – new neighbors, new/old friends, unbelievably present and helpful. I am so grateful. Also – had some help from Sheereen & Zach, but they ran away to Europe for a month on vacation, which I have to say is mighty good timing. Jeni for sharing her evolving experience as a Seattle+Vashon split personality. The nice people at Snapdragon which has been my Vashon landing strip for all these long searching years.
From the Seattle side, I have to thank: Kerry Bentley because I can’t do anything without her. Courtney Clarke & Craig Brooks for always supporting me whatever crazy thing I am doing. {No – Craig – Sorry – you can’t have a Porsche museum in my barn.} I have to thank my house in West Seattle (Aka: “The Hobbit House”) for being an amazing, stable home base to recover from the loss of 139 and now to launch the Black Sheep adventure. Must thank Dave, of course. But he’s Dave so he wants none of it. He has this crazy idea that I bring all my stress on myself. I don’t know where he gets that. Cindy and Aaron for being the first Seattle boots on Black Sheep ground. My Mother for coming around to supporting this because, well, she has to because she’s my Sainted Mother (says she) and apparently I’ve got a little bit of history with doing crazy stuff and most times – it’s all worked out ok. My brother-in-law and the Norsen clan for supporting this, as they supported the very recent move out to West Seattle. I get that they’re tired of me right now. If I don’t thank my sister Michelle she’s going to stop quietly mocking Black Sheep and instead loudly come right out and tell me, in great glorious detail, how crazy-stupid I am for doing this. So, thank you Michelle!
From the far-flung friends: Margaret Dickenson (Co. Springs) for digitally listening pretty much always. Steph Della-V (Philly) for being firm and reasonable. We are the human equivalent of the three black sheep and intend to retire quietly out there after we’re done reeking havoc on our worlds. Brian & Reno (NY) because they’re great but also because they have an agenda and want to be sure to have a place to move into when they move back here.
I’ll also repeat this sentiment: Black Sheep is dedicated to all the times and things and people I’ve lost. All the stuff that didn’t GO how it should’ve and all the things I wish I had been able to make right. All the failures, all the lessons learned, all the reality set in. All of it. Among so many other things – the personal victory that is Black Sheep is about finding balance.
Thank you and please enjoy the warm-feelies because we’re just getting started, it’s going to be a long road, and I’m going to need all the continued support I can get. But I think you all know – you’re a part of this. We are all Black Sheep.
Smart, Funny Julianne 