Catchin' Up

Usually when people buy a home, the possibilities are there in front of them, dictated by the pre-existing structure. The rooms are laid out and you can complain about why anyone in their right mind would put the bathroom there or put some tile down over here. It was someone else's (or some other decade's) crazy thinking. You can be excited about making it yours with new paint or knocking out a wall, or maybe even changing out a pink/peach toilet and tub. And then there's homes like ours, where the location was right where we wanted to be, but there were oh so many things not at all right with the place.

That being said, we've had the idea of possibly owning this home for a couple of years. Our landlord had once casually mentioned perhaps selling it someday, so it was always there in the back of our minds as we searched for other homes- even when she didn't seem to want to do it at the time we wanted a home (what with the economy and all...) Still- we often talked about how we might do it differently- especially after a few years of living in it and fully recognizing its major issues. It may have been that when these issues were put out there that she was convinced to unload it on us. There's a definite line between bothering to fix something and just saying, "you know what- let's just start fresh."

So we're starting fresh, but not totally fresh, in a way. We have been casually thinking about this for a couple of years, and very seriously since last fall. And Anthony has always gravitated toward books like The Not So Big House, to the point where good common sense design and a nice dose of unexpected charm infused our daily thinking- causing both excitement (about possibilities) and headaches (about logistics) at the same time.

However our fearless architect, Alison, is starting fresh on this project- meaning all this time that we've been pseudo-planning and dreaming and scheming is time that she is now catching up on. She's discovering the issues that have long aggravated us. While we're excited about having someone else trying to work it all out, we're still the ones with the intimate knowledge of this project and we have to communicate this in a way that she can take her expertise to work it all out. Which brings me to my next point: the not-necessarily innate process of comfortable revision.

For some reason, it is common for second graders to want to just be done with things. I spend a lot of time at work trying to get kids to focus on quality work, no matter if it takes a while or a couple of tries. I spend a lot of time emphasizing the value of revision. We talk about how rarely does anyone get anything perfect the first time and the important thing is to use each other to critique and and accept the criticism as something helpful, rather than hurtful. I have one student this year who particularly gets upset with correction and any part of the revision process, to the point where I have to actually announce to him that "I'm heading over to your desk to look at your work and if I find something that could be corrected I'm going to let you know because it's my job to help you do the best work you can." (The announcements don't totally stop the tantrums when corrections are offered, but maybe if I say it enough it'll eventually sink in...) The thing is that somewhere down the line we have to develop thick skin and come to that realization that others ARE there to help us develop the best product we can. Sure, sometimes the criticism is not offered constructively, or even remotely politely with the aim of aiding the work for the better. (Anthony knows this all too well from the ill-fated, petty "reviewer B" *insert exacerbated growl and fist raise here*.)

I'm bringing all this up because when Alison came over this week with three early options for us, I came to the realization that just because we're paying her doesn't mean she was just going to do it all on her own and instantly solve all our problems for us. Instead this was going to be a constant process of evaluation, critique, and revisions. She's caught up on our site issues, we're catching her up on our lifestyle issues and things we always pictured in our home. She seems like she's taking it all in. The revision process involves communication and the end result is hopefully that good common sense home with the nice dose of unexpected charm that we've been dreaming of.

-J

Tiny Wrapped Up In A Whole Lot of Stuff

We like to think of ourselves as simple. I definitely wouldn't call us minimalists, but with all the moves we've made, we've managed to prioritize what we really need (or enjoy having). We have noticed that each time we move it seems to require a little more as we acquire a little more. We try to cost-effectively weed out the unnecessaries, but then there's alway the essentials and the "might be useful somedays" that come along. (For example, those XL sweaters I saved from when big and baggy was in during the 90s? Useful now, as I begin to get big and baggy.) This time I'm not sure what it's all going to look like. Our "stuff" is changing forms as we change directions.

Looking back, we didn't bring over much when we moved to Macedonia in the Peace Corps, and not much came back either (especially walking across the border while being evacuated).

Anthony and Tom- heading toward the Greek border

When I moved from New York to California in 1999 I went on a plane with everything I thought I needed. Granted that included my bike in a bike box stuffed with all my clothes around it. My parents and little brother came too, and I allowed them only minimal personal items for themselves so that I could take a few more things.

Moving to Boston from California meant that my mom and I put all of my possessions in my VW GTI for the trip (the bike rode on top this time, there was underwear stuffed in the toaster oven, and we read 4th grade chapter books out of my teaching boxes for entertainment.)

California to Boston move

Boston to Rhode Island was such a little move, that even though I now had a second bike and a kayak- everything was still quite simple.

Rhode Island to Oregon was eye-opening in how much stuff we had amassed, but by this time it was the two of us moving together. We rented a 6x12 trailer to tow behind our truck because of the queen size mattress (which later became a mouse home in storage, causing us to ditch it anyway- but that's another story).

Rhode Island to Oregon move

I have no idea what extra stuff we must have acquired while in Oregon, but this time we rented a portion of a truck to move us back east to Cape Cod. (I will admit that in every move, a lot of what has grown has been my teaching stuff...)

Oregon to Cape Cod move

I bring all this up because, with our current situation of having a baby and tearing down our house simultaneously, I'm experiencing mixed messages and mixed emotions. My body is telling me to nest, and my brain is telling me to "un-nest". I won't be able to help move us out into wherever we're going to live while the real house is being built, so I feel like I have to get ready now by getting rid of stuff that I'm not sure we need and packing up stuff that's not vital for a while.

And then there's the issue of amassing and arranging all that will keep our tiny human alive and happy... While Flip may not need a very big home, per se,- he/she sure does require a whole lot of stuff! What's really necessary and how do we know?

-J

Not Much Room Vs. Cozy, Comfy Abode

We've chosen our team! After fighting the slight urge to throw up while handing over our initial payment (just one of many to come...) The Design/Build team of Alison and Bob at A&E Architects of Brewster have won the race, mostly by being excited (and not being scared off) by our budget constraints, site plan and vision for realizing its potential.

The good part is that now we've put all our unknowns about the design into somebody else's hands for a while.They seem like they'll be able to work with us on cost, as well as understand our common sense, happy living approach to the design. Like most of the world (our country excluded), they did not need convincing that no, we didn't need more room. They get it.

I mean, take a look at "Flip". At our last ultrasound on Tuesday it looked pretty tight in there, yet in true kiddo fashion he/she was having a ball, squirming all around, playing and drinking. Kids dig small spaces. I'm sure that whatever size room Flip ends up with she or he will still crawl into a box someday and call that their home.

Families are meant to be close. The question is, (if we went with it) how close would a 20 foot wide house make us?

-J