...notes from Brewer's Pond, a mid-life homesteading experience.

Monday, February 28, 2011

In Time

I've been keeping a sketchy written diary of the construction going on here, and will fill in the blanks with the pictures I've been taking as we go along.  The crew works hard, and they're all competent at their respective positions.

I arrive when I can to do the painting, and be there to answer questions they may have. Generally, I stay tucked up in a corner, in a quiet room and paint to the strains of air compression machinery, saws, the local classic rock station, and the natural conversation of the crew as they forget I'm here and go back to their cohesive jive.

Half the time, I don't try to understand the conversation, a combination of called-out measurements, purposefully mis-sung lyrics and constant ribbing at one another.

I like this orchestra. Then they get quiet as they pack up for the day. I come out of my secluded workspace, and we check out the day's work together. Monday afternoon, one of the workers commented on the frog symphony in the coming twilight. I told him it was my favorite spring herald, and we all just listened for a minute or two, then one talked about the coming fishing season, and the conversations broke out all over.

They fire up their trucks, and go off down the driveway, and up the dead-end street which is our little swamp home on a pond.

I stay still and listen for a bit, as I eye the constructions remnants all around, waiting for tomorrow's use. So much more to be done.

My thumbs hurt from all the painting, and I have more rooms to cover, but for now I just listen to the empty sound of me and the house, alone. Finally.

After a bit I go back to work, tired but content.


Tuesday, February 1, 2011

White Rabbit

New month... Before bed on the last night of the month, we tell each other "Hare, Hare" then not speak another word until first thing the next morning. "White Rabbit" is what is said before anything else. It's difficult to remember sometimes... especially when the dog is in your face and wants to go out.

Today I took my oldest, Hunter, to Brewer's pond for the first time. There are holes in the walls and floors, and he is skeptical. I wanted him to see the beginning point so he had an honest comparison when we are done.

I had told him about Eddie and my great scare, but he didn't know Eddie had been moved from the coat closet. I bit my lip as he opened the linen closet. I laughed until I snorted when he jumped back a few feet.

Ah... good times.

Monday, January 31, 2011

Day 5 - Here Comes The Sun

Monday... my first student of the day called me last night to cancel. I was fine with that, it gave me time to drive by Brewer's Pond instead of driving straight to work after dropping off the younger at his school.

I was hoping that I would catch the work crew to let them know what we did to the wainscoting, and why.

Again, it was silent and cold, and I was alone listening to the place. As I stood in the great room, I took in the energy flow through the space. There is plenty of room for free movement in the open layout, especially since the decor plan is functional minimalist.

As I made mental notes and placed imaginary furniture, I became aware that a brilliant shaft of sunlight was pouring in from the back rooms.


My back was tense from all of the demolition we did over the weekend, so I took the opportunity to do several sun salutations right then and there. Stretching towards the ceiling with wide arms and sweeping down towards the floor in the morning sunlight worked out the stiffness, and the new knowledge that our future home has such great energy flow made me eager to get to the business of living in this space.

I had to leave for work before anyone from the construction crew showed up, so I didn't get a chance until later in the afternoon to meet Louis, the crew foreman.

He was the one who put Eddie in the closet.

PS... he had moved Eddie to another closet, and lighting can strike twice.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Day 4 - Demolition Day

Last night I got to talking about what may be behind the wainscoting on the other side of the black mold wall. I was certain that if it was on the kitchen side of the wall, it was probably on the great room side of the wall also.

Bug liked the wainscoting, and was planning on leaving it up, yet decided we should pull it off of that one spot and see. Sure enough, there it was.

With crowbar, hammer, a flat-head screwdriver, and our back bones, we tore it out of the entire great room, and the dining room. We found a couple of soft spots due to the poor roof,  and were very happy we decided to tear it out. Those places will be cut out completely, and fresh materials will be brought in anywhere there is a question to the integrity of the house.

We knew this was going to be the case going in. This place needed help. It was built in the mid-70's in the middle of the Virginia swamp. Moisture control is imperative if a house is going to last. It hadn't been controlled in the last 10 years or so.

We well could have built a new home, certainly, but we both agreed that there were so many houses already out there, building a new one would be wasteful.

We well could have chosen an elegant modern home in a well-to-do neighborhood, but we shivered at the thought of living on a postage stamp sharing a hedge row with The Joneses.

The property was the key. Neither of us wanted to live in a suburban development. Neither of us wanted people living within hose-squirting distance. We like our privacy, peace, and quiet. We also have the same desire to grow our own food, and be as self-sufficient as possible.

Brewer's Pond is the perfect set-up and location. None of us are going out of our way for work or school. So what if it needs a complete overhaul? The foundation is solid, and it has everything else we were looking for.

I feel we will enjoy the place much more knowing how hard we worked to bring it back to life. Having let it waste away would have been an awful shame. We want to live a life of recycling and ecological thoughtfulness, Recycling the dwelling itself just seems like the right thing to do.

Found:
  • three broken cane poles in the deep, dead grass behind the barn. One was hooked in the nearest tree.
  • revealed the anchors for the windmill we know used to stand by the barn. The foot-tall anchors were hidden by the deep grass and were an impalement danger.
  • a neat little beach for fishing on the banks of the pond.
Removed:
  • many feet of chair railings, wainscot panelling, baseboards, and shoe molding.
  • 2 trillion panelling nails

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Day 3 - Redneck Jackass

We went to work early, knowing the construction crew wouldn't be working on the weekend. I'm doing all of the painting anyway, and thought I'd get a jump on KILZing something in the place.

We ended up moving the old cabinets out, saving the good ones for reuse in the barn, and breaking down the ones we deemed "too-far-gone" and spending a good deal of time cleaning trash from all over the property.

It was a nice day for outdoor activity. I saw a hawk and a cardinal come close as I worked in the sunshine.

Dr. Bug called a friend over to offer him the old oil tank if he wanted it for a pig cooker, he came out and went on the grand tour. After seeing the stuff left over from the previous owner, he said....

"This guy must have been one serious redneck jackass". We couldn't agree more. They had a good vision, and left great bones for what we want to build, but they had no follow through.

What is left is evidence of people who just don't give a damn.

Crazy stuff we found:
  • a 1987 penny and a cabinet maker's card affixed to the wall behind the old cabinets.
  • black mold behind the 'wet' kitchen appliances
  • dead rabbit
  • conch shell in the midst of dumped trash behind the barn
  • a pile of old metal tools and implements in another small dump site near the pond
  • an old tire in the ditch
  • a broken lawn chair in the same ditch
  • 2 collapsible folding chairs by a trailer loaded with fiber-optic cable
  • 1 pole mounted concrete, and portable
  • beer cans shot up with bb holes set on tree limbs all around the property
  • in the dumped trash, I found plenty of personal papers and pay check stubs of the dump-ee. Idiot. They were from as late as December when we'd already begun the contract process.
This means people have been parking back here, and dumping their trash.
Most of it was Newport cigarette packs and empty cartons, fast food wrappers in disgusting amounts, soda beer and Red Bull cans, and chip bags.

In short, the people that had been trashing the place out here, were trashing the inside of their bodies just as bad with processed food, unhealthy drinks and cigarettes.

We also put up our 'NO TRESPASSING" sign, then dragged our exhausted bodies back home for showers, pizza, and beer - remedy for a full recovery.

Friday, January 28, 2011

Day 2 - Skeletons in the Closet

After dropping the younger off at his school, I went out and pulled the "For Sale" signs out of the yard, and retrieved the keys from the realtor lock-box.

The construction crew had already been there to tear out the kitchen cabinets, they'd been standing by yesterday evening for word that the house was ours, and commenced demolition. They found a dead rabbit in a wall space.


I brought my best friend, Purple, out to see the place before we ripped it apart any further. We'd walked the whole place, I told her of the plans for reconstruction and about the dead rabbit.

It was quiet and cold, we were standing in the great room, when I saw the coat closet by the front door.
We walked over to it.

Mind you, I have looked in every space in this place before it was bought.






I told her it was a decent-sized closet,
 and it would be handy.







And then I opened the door......

Purple was just about out of the back door before I could call her back in the room by yelling to her, "It's not real! It's not real! I promise...I've been in this closet before!!!"

I have to say, even though I'd opened the closet before, I had a vicious surge of adrenaline for a few moments myself until I realized it was a prank.

Upstairs, in the eaves of the FROG (Finished Room Above Garage), the previous owner left a box of Halloween decorations. This skeleton must have been in the mix. One of the workers must have placed him in the closet.

I named him Eddie.
Then I left a note in Eddie's bony grasp, commending the prankster on his superb scare.

Later I took Mom out to see the place, then we went shopping for painting supplies, and looked at the choices for counter tops and floor tile. So much to do.