House: a large hole in the ground into which you pour money (and time)

We’re seeing the first signs of spring, and things are starting to happen, 

at last.

Crocuses in front of the Swedish Center

Typical modern Japanese soaking tub

We went to the Home Show and looked at doors, windows, counter tops, kitchen cabinets, railings, flooring, exterior materials, etc. until we were glassy eyed. We have to consider a lot of finishes, and hardware and it’s mind-boggling. Much of what was on display is totally unsuitable. The garden shed that’s bigger than our garden? Or how about the hot tub that seats ten and has a built in light show? There were a lot of hot tubs, most of them gigantic, some the size of small swimming pools. Don’t people realize how much energy they consume (not to mention water and (blech) chemicals? Here I am feeling guilty about wanting a one person Japanese-style soaking tub.

Brochures from the Home Show

The house itself remains empty and untouched (in other words, no, we still haven’t moved in yet), and possibly uninsured do to the complete incompetence of the insurance company who sold us the wrong kind of policy. But we are making progress, even if it isn’t visible. We have chosen a contractor, and spent considerable time with each candidate looking at preliminary budgets.

Today we participated in a charrette - a collaborative meeting between us, the architect, a structural engineer, and the contractor - to iron out some sticking points. The main problem being the remodel, as originally designed, would be significantly over budget. As it stood, the plans had nearly everything we ever wanted in a house, plus some extra space that we could easily do without. This propelled us into some serious thinking about what they call value engineering.  In other words, how to do as much of what we want to do without breaking the bank.  This calls for being creative with materials, and scaling back the project.

We really don’t need to make the house any bigger, but the plans extended one of the bedrooms in two dimensions in order to even out the facade and seamlessly tie in the front entrance to the rest of the house. It looked very nice on paper, until we saw how much it would cost. If we don't enlarge the envelope, and don't completely restructure the roof  (which would have required the

What to do with the roof

removal and rebuilding of the entire top floor to support the new shape) there will be less major engineering work, and less excavation. This kind of work is very expensive and best avoided if possible. However, it has been a real struggle to come up with a solution that doesn’t look ridiculous from the outside. We think we may have succeeded, though there’s an odd space on the ground under the top deck that may have to be a rock garden.

The roof is still under discussion. The shingles need replacing, and it really should have eaves extending over the walls (it occasionally rains in Seattle, if you hadn’t heard).  But completely redesigning it is too expensive.

While trying to finalize the rooflines, we looked at the plans, and compared them to exterior photographs of the house, and concluded some of the measurements for the front of the house

may be inaccurate.  This could have quite an impact on structural issues. Until the architect can get back to the house and double check a few measurements we can’t be sure what the answer will be.  There’s a bit of time pressure here, as the plan is to submit the permit requests in less than three weeks.

The basement will probably stay as it is rather than the radical redesign we first envisioned.  We're keeping the walk through bathroom intact, the only one, thank heavens that doesn't have horrible concrete countertops.  Various other elements have been jettisoned, such as a staircase between the back garden and the deck (everyone agrees the current metal monstrosity has to go). Along with a sweeping shed roof, we’ve cut out a catwalk with a view over Puget Sound.  The back deck will cover a smaller expanse, but have more useable surface area now that there is no staircase in the middle of it. However, after shivering through two cold snaps (the last one record-breaking) we decided the hydronic underfloor heating is not optional. Forced air heating is too unpleasant, and I’m willing to give up a lot for warmth.

Looking forward to next spring, when we might be able to enjoy the view from our refashioned home.

Fishing boat on Shilshole Bay

Donald Bradtke 1922-2014

Reading on the porch

They say moving is as traumatic as having a death in the family. Recently, there has been a depressing trend for both things to happen in the same year. This time, my father died after a long and varied life. While he had been declining in the past few years, the final illness was mercifully short. I heard he was in the hospital in the middle of the afternoon, and by the wee small hours of the morning he had gone. He wasn’t perfect, but he was the best dad we could ever have asked for.  

He loved life, and people; loved to crack jokes (and his jokes were unashamedly off color or politically incorrect at times). His conversations were always punctuated with full-throated laughter. A lifelong athlete, he encouraged those of us with similar interests, and helped us develop our skills but more importantly, didn’t push the siblings who had no sporty inclination. He was always doing things for us, going hundreds of miles out of the way on a family car trip because I wanted to visit Nashville, or turning around and driving back to a motel because my older brother had left his beloved stuffed dog behind. He helped us move, we built things together, and he was always there when we needed him. He loved to sing with great gusto, and dance with abandon, though he freely admitted to a complete lack of skill in either art. I have fond memories of fishing, hiking and picnics in his company where we would dine on sardines and saltines with an apple or perhaps a piece of licorice for dessert. We would often laugh about his fondness for old world delicacies such as pickled pigs' feet or limburger cheese, but he was a true omnivore, and ate anything put in front of him with great enjoyment and gratitude. A child of the Depression, he learned early on to treasure the small pleasures in life and the people around him. It seems I not only inherited his blue eyes and high forehead, but his love of travel. I am and will always be a Coast Guardsman’s daughter.  

The Coast Guardsman and his other daughter, in the only boat we ever owned

Below is the obituary I wrote for him; it only scratches the surface:

Bradtke, Donald F., 91, of DeLand, Florida, died Sunday, January 12^th, 2014.  Born in Great Falls, Montana, he was orphaned as a young child and adopted by his aunt and uncle, the Ebenroths of Chicago.  He studied business at Marquette University, where he also played varsity sports.  During World War II, he served in the United States Coast Guard on The USS Mosley, a destroyer escort.  He married Louise M.  DeCaprio in Boston in 1948, and together they raised four children while he continued his career with the Coast Guard.  He served as a personnel officer, including a tour of duty at the Coast Guard Academy, assigning graduates their first commissions.  The family traveled widely, including Guam, Juneau, New York, and Miami, but Florida was always his favorite location.  After twenty-seven years of service, he retired in Miami with the rank of Chief Warrant Officer (W-3).  He enjoyed a second career as an office manager for educational services.  In his leisure time he was an avid bowler and scout leader; he also coached and umpired youth softball and baseball, and was a lifelong Chicago Cubs fan.  The Bradtkes moved from Miami to DeLand in 1978, where in 1979 they established an educational business, Bradtke Educational Systems Inc., to help children and adults with special needs.  In addition, he managed the Amber Inn restaurant at the Putnam Hotel.  After retiring from his second career, he undertook various volunteer activities, joined the Kiwanis, and was involved in mediation, arbitration, and counseling.  He served on the Board of Directors of the Volusia County Mediation Services, the Deland Area Chamber of Commerce, the Public Safety Committee, Community Outreach Services, the Stewart-Marchman Center, and the Delinquency Advisory Board of the Juvenile Detention Center.  Following the death of his wife Louise in 2011, he spent the last few years living quietly at home with his youngest son.  Two sisters, his four children, and three grandchildren survive him.

Back to the Drawing Board

The reality of this phrase hits home when you work with an architect. We had our first meeting recently to discuss preliminary drawings. I was glad to see that the profession has not completely abandoned the old tools. J., the architect, had three versions of a 3D image of the exterior, but when it got down to the details, we were looking at hand drawn floor plans. There were several variations, depending on the amount of work to be done.

I knew that there are fashions in architecture, but I hadn't expected him to denigrate the roof as being so last century. We do have to do something about the roof at any rate, because the lack of eaves is what has caused much of the siding to rot in the damp Seattle climate. He suggested a butterfly roof; a V shape with the high sides on the north and south ends (this struck me as being very mid-century modern - even further into the last century). The benefit of this design is it allows for passive solar gain. I countered that our planned solar  power and hot water installation requires a southern slope. He admitted the butterfly roof is hard to seal properly (as the water follows the slopes towards the center of the building) and, next thing we knew he'd redrawn the roof with a North/South sweep.  While part of me wonders if it is really necessary  to completely replace an unfashionable (and poorly functioning) roof, the rest of me is fascinated by the design process. 

Next we proceeded to move walls, fixtures, etc. with abandon (it's all done with tracing paper). The only thing that seems to stay in one place is the mechanical space and the staircase. But I expect even that could be moved.

Queen's House, Greenwich - a bit grander than ours

He sent us home with some drawings and instructions to think things over and let him know what we thought. We had just one evening to do this before I  was off to foreign parts for work.  D. was in his element, and dug out his father's architect's scale and tracing paper. We realized the last set of drawings left us with a bedroom door that opened onto a void above the basement, a too small music room in a windowless corner of the basement and a few other  awkward things. So we rearranged the floor plan again on tracing paper, scanned them and sent them back. By now it seems there is not much of the original house left (we had rejected the place as unsuitable the first time we saw it for good reasons). On the other hand I think J is getting a better idea of how we live.  

Archictect's scale

Part way through my trip, in the middle of one of those weird jet-lag induced semi-sleepless nights, I decided that a void (they're calling it a light well, I call it a big hole) in the middle of the house did not sit well with my life long fear of heights.  While some people might enjoy being able to see straight down from the top floor to the basement, the very idea of it brought me out in a cold sweat.  I mentioned it to D. and he said, "you shouldn't have an architectural detail that makes you uncomfortable", and notified J. that he'll need to rethink that.

He and his assistants are now preparing another set of drawings to incorporate our comments and suggestions. Meanwhile, I'm finishing up my trip with another session in the British Library. I don't always write blog posts from such esteemed places, but there was a mixup in a book I requested so I need to do something while I wait.

Have you moved in yet?

There was such flurry of activity around the end of September when we told everyone about the house we're buying.  They all assumed we'd be moved in by now.  Folks were surprised and possibly disappointed  when I invited them over recently to the same old place (sorry!).

Since we don't want to live (and work) in a building site, and since we're hiring professionals to do the work. . . it's going to take some time. We don't anticipate any work to begin until after the new year. If all goes well, we'll move in sometime next summer.

First step in the process, and one that has been completed, is to measure everything.  Two architectural assistants spent the better part of two days photographing, measuring, and inspecting the place inside and out with the aim of creating a computerized model of the house.

Next comes a series of meetings with the architect. This was delayed a bit because he's been busy with the completeion of his latest project, a conversion of an old house into Ada's Technical Books. We like his style and the way he reused elements of the old house. 

During the interim, I've been trying to read up on modern house design and construction. There's so much new technology out there, it's mind boggling. Our first real meeting about our house takes place in a couple days.  We're both excited and  a little nervous.  We've created a document called a program that explains our goals, what kinds of spaces we use on a regular basis, what we've liked or disliked about past homes.  This gives the architect a way to focus his designs.  We've also prepared a list of comments and questions regarding this particular building and thoughts about what we'd like to change or keep. 

No pot rack here. . . 

It's a bit crazy, after all these years of trying to fit our lives into rented or otherwise temporary accommodation to be able to think about what it is we really want in a home.  For what feels like ages I've been saying things like "my next kitchen will have a pot rack" (and it never does).  A root cellar, and a place for radio antennas (both impossible in a condo) are also on the wish list.



We both dream of a workshop area where we can change bike tires and do other repairs (currently these happen in the front hall where at least there's no carpet to get spattered with grease and dirt). Or even a place to properly store the bikes and their related gear (aside from the front hall and the cupboard under the stairs).  Also on the list is an entry way where two or more people can put on their coats and shoes without doing a little dance involving each other, the folding bikes and the coat rack.  It's not like we want a mansion, we just want a functional space (with a view!).

Gardening

It's been so long since we've had a plot of dirt of our own to play in.  The first challenge is to identify what's there. . .I don't know the plants in this part of the world. Below is just a sample from the front.  We also have very little in the way of garden tools. But that didn't stop us from puttering in the sunshine today. Happily there seem to be a lot of plants that have purple flowers.

The front garden may have had the attentions of a professional landscaper at some point, but is now a little overgrown. The upkeep deteriorates as you move to the back. We had to tread carefully through the brambles and overgrown flowers encroaching on the path. The 'lawn' is about 50% weeds.  No matter, we plan to dig it up and put in a vegetable garden. But until then, we may have to borrow a lawn mower.

Back of the house with the odd staircase

Quince and Pear from the same tree

There's a butterfly bush on the left that's threatening to take over and a neglected fruit tree on the right - that grows both

pears and quinces. It might have been a pear grafted onto a quince root stock that was never pruned.  We'll have to get some advice on this one.  It should be pruned. . . but how much, where, and when?  The idea of a tree producing two kinds of fruit is great, even if that probably wasn't the original idea. I cooked these up with some other fruit into a tasty pear / quince / apple sauce.

There's lavender in there somewhere

Buried in a nest of weeds in the very back are two mature lavender plants.  While D. was bravely ripping up brambles and whacking back the overgrown flower beds, I was hauling on vines and pulling grass and other weeds out of the lavender plants.  Then I trimmed back all the flowers and left them to dry on the kitchen counter, perfuming the empty house.  I swear I heard the plants breathe a sigh of relief.

"Ahhhh, that feels better"

We won't be doing much more than trying to keep it under control until after the construction crews have been and gone.  I know what they're like with their big boots and bigger vehicles. . . . 

       We've met most of the neighbors and their dogs by now. They were all eager to know when we would be moving in.   Now they know it's going to be a building site , but I think they are glad the house won't be standing empty for much longer.

The House of Ten Doors

One of the oddities of the house we just bought: it has ten doors to the outside.  Every room aside from the bathrooms has at least one outer door.  This doesn't count the two sets of French doors we found propped up against the inside wall of the garage. We'll probably fill in some of these as we re-skin the building So as a record, here they are:

Left to right, starting at top: upper south west, basement 1, ground floor north 1, basement 2, front door, ground floor west 1, basement sliding door, upper north west, upper west, ground floor west 2.

  Many of these doors don't shut well, with little gaps around the edges. The place must be pretty cold in the winter.  No wonder they felt the need to stick a gas fireplace into a very odd little bay window that doesn't look out onto the bay, but rather the house next door.  It's in an awkward space. If anyone were to pull up a chair in front of the fire to warm themselves, they'd effectively block all passage between one side of the house and the other, and the stairs, and all but one of the outer doors.

Continuing the theme of too many doors, there's also the toilet that doubles as a corridor. It is the only way to get between the two main sections of the basement without going out one door and in through another. As the real estate agent told us, they designed the previous renovation themselves. . . and it shows.

We're at it again!

Just when you thought it was safe to write our address in ink in your little black book. . .

We're going to relocate, again!

To those who know us, it shouldn't come as a huge surprise. We've always talked about building a house, but never felt settled enough to consider it. Well, after 20 years of marriage, maybe it's time to put down roots?

We've spent the past eight months or so looking for a place to build.  Empty lots within easy bicycle commute of D's office with a good view are non-existent . Plan B, find something that really needs to be knocked down or substantially rebuilt.  That wasn't easy either, they've all been done, sometimes very badly. Who wants to pay a fortune for a recently renovated house only to rip out half the work and start over again? Plan C, sigh.  Find one that has been redone, but not too recently, and is in bad enough shape that the asking price isn't quite so scary.  Our real estate agent got temporarily distracted by Plan D, find a place we actually liked (but the whole point is, we really want to build a place of our own, not squeeze into someone else's ideal home). . .  Plan C finally succeeded about two weeks ago.

It was a house we saw several months ago, but nixed because of some serious design flaws and the poor condition of the exterior.  Then we finally got our act together and engaged and architect, and the sellers got tired of the house not selling and reduced the price substantially and tada! We're picking up the keys today. Gulp.  

I'm approaching the first visit with some trepidation.  The last time we saw it, the place was full of junk - The garage and basement especially.  Our agent went by yesterday and said the U-haul was out front and they were emptying out the garage. . . so perhaps it won't look like an explosion in a charity shop. . . one can only hope.  

Pictures soon, I promise!