Before & After--Exterior

At one point last spring, if you'd have asked me which was more disturbing--the wood chipper scene in Fargo or the condition of my house-- I'd probably have picked the latter. Oh. Geez. Margie.

It was month#3 of construction and I headed to the house with a little extra sproing in the ol' Chuck Taylors. I'd just received a text from our foreman saying that the latest round of demo had begun. By that point, demo messes were generally more thrilling than terrifying. Having already said goodbye to Prince's secret hideaway on the upper floor and piñatas in the linoleum-lined living room, I felt steely and unafraid of the fresh new start awaiting our house. Yeah, let's do this!

But that morning, our crew had been especially busy. As I rounded the corner, my stomach dropped like an elevator shaft in a bad action movie. How it happened, I don't know, but apparently, my house had barfed all over itself.

Yikes. In tears, I wondered what kind of costly mess we'd gotten ourselves into and whether this house was simply too challenging, as so many seemed to think when we had first bought it. Maybe we'd been naive to believe otherwise and should be flogged in penance for p*ssing away our nest egg.

Getting through the panic and self-doubt triggered by the sight of our new house laying in pieces all over the yard was amongst the most trying tests of the whole reno process. There were sleepless nights--many of them.

But then came a timely realization, brought on by recollections of our previous construction experiences: in virtually every reno, it's inevitable that things will get worse before they get better. Patience, Jedi. Big, beastly projects demand it.

The next steps, in order of priority, were to: a) stop freaking out; b) stick to the viable building plan in hand and let the project unfold more fully; and c) remember that we had an excellent crew supporting us.

A lot has changed since then:

AFTER:

While we loved the shell of the original 1939 structure, we were less excited about the awkward aesthetics of a 1960s addition along the south side of the house. There was no way of bringing the house back to 1939, but we were able to give it a freshened, character look. Incorporating three dormers into the roofline also gave us a better-functioning upper floor. Three cheers for headroom!

The house now feels more balanced and seemingly comfortable in its new skin. Best of all, I can sleep again.

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A note: I'm so grateful to our terrific neighbours and kind passers-by. Even when the place looked like crap and our noise pollution shot through the air with merciless regularity, everyone was SO NICE, offering words of encouragement when we needed them most. Dear neighbourhood friends: thanks for your little white lies and other kindnesses, even when you were skeptical of where this project was heading. It meant a lot.