Saturday, July 28, 2012

Our big purchase

  My husband is a connoisseur of KSL.com.  For all of you out-of-staters, it's Utah's Craigslist.  While it's true that we have found some amazing deals on this website, it's almost annoying how much time he spends searching the classifieds.  Soon after we moved into our fabulous new home he found something while surfing that got us both digging for change out of our pockets: a piano.

  I've played on and off (I wasn't much for doing anything boring like practicing) since second grade.  I enjoy playing now, and have wanted my own piano for a long time.  Sadly, pianos are incredibly expensive!  Just about anything that can be purchased for the same price as a small car is ridiculous.
  The piano we found was very old. What attracted us to it was the price: $50. It belonged to a family that was moving out of a rental one hour away from us and didn't have room for it anymore.  We called and told them we wanted it and were on our way.  As fast as we could, we hooked the trailer up to the truck and took off.  There was a decent drive ahead of us with no guarantee it would still be there when we arrived.
  Just as we feared, we got a call when we were twenty minutes away.  Several people had called with better offers.  My husband was very firm with the sellers and told them we were almost there, we had the cash ready and we WANTED it.  They were hesitant, but agreed to still let us have it for $50 if we hurried.
  A few hours later we were on our way home with our new piano in tow!  I was so excited I could hardly wait to play it.  I kept turning around to make sure it was still there.  This may seem silly, but when we got home and unloaded it we realized that somewhere along the way it hadn't been tied down correctly.  If it hadn't been so heavy it could have fallen out!  Can you imagine a piano smashing to pieces on the freeway?  We're convinced it was a miracle that it didn't.
  Now came the difficult part: getting it into the house.  It had wheels, but they were so old they didn't turn.  My father-in-law came over to help us but the three of us still struggled to make it move.  Once inside, we were horrified to find that the piano was so heavy, it was leaving deep tread marks in the floor.  We quickly put towels underneath it to fix the problem.


  It has to live in the kitchen because extreme temperatures are no bueno for pianos.  Having it in the same room as our fireplace wouldn't work.  Doesn't everyone want a piano in their kitchen?
  Once it was in place, I was finally able to play it.  It sounded...okay.  It was out of tune and the sustaining pedal didn't work.  It couldn't be pushed down at all!  Few things are more annoying than playing the piano pedal-less.
  After I got my fill of playing it, my next task was to find out how old it was.  I searched the piano inside and out for clues and this is what I found:


I'm pretty sure this is the serial number.

   I checked www.esteypiano.com.  If this is accurate, it would date the piano between 1875 and 1880.  Thaaaaat doesn't seem right...that seems too old for the condition it's in, so I'm not sure.  After spending hours fruitlessly researching Hallet & Davis to find a definite year I gave up.  For some reason I'm guessing 1921.  I have no evidence to back it up, however, so don't trust me.  Either way, do you think it's still under warranty?
  Next was to get the pedal to work again.  It seemed jammed so I again spent hours trying to fix it with my bare hands and a flashlight.  It wasn't easy!  I can only tolerate so much of reaching into a dark dusty piano to troubleshoot.  Maybe I'm crazy, but there's something about dark spaces that makes me want to say "walk away, Lori, walk away..."
  Finally I did what I should have done in the first place: went crying to Jonathan.  He took one look at it, knocked a small chunk of wood out of the inside (beneath the inside part of the pedal) and it worked.  I hate these situations.  I'm so relieved that the pedal is working but embarrassed that it was so easy.  Ah well.  And he wonders why I ask him to do everything for me.
  At last the piano was playable.  I have since taught piano lessons and enjoyed countless hours of playing.  Alas, with young kids I don't get a lot of time to play.  Whenever I get a chance to sneak away to play for a minute I always get caught.  The problem with a piano is that by playing it you give away your position and turn into a sitting duck to a little girl begging "please come play with me!"

Learning addition

  When I was younger, I was convinced I needed a clubhouse.  Every kid goes through this phase, yes?  The problem is that I tend to dream big.  We're talking BIG. 
 
  This is a rough copy of the plan I drew out for my dad so he would know how to build it.  Perhaps I should have been an architect...such talent!  What is the perfect square in the middle of the room you ask?  Duh, a trap door!  It opens when you say the secret password and a ladder comes down.  (Don't ask how, that part was going to be my dad's responsibility.)
  To this day, I still remember my dad's reaction when i showed him the plans.  It involved a little confusion, then laughter, with some exhalation of breath mixed in.  Needless to say, I had to return to my backup plan for a clubhouse: a dryer box with cut-out windows.  My imaginary friends were sympathetic.
  Now, ten plus years later, the time has come to finally get my clubhouse of sorts.  I'm pretty much an adult now and my family is so cramped we can't handle it any longer.  We have food storage under our bed, baby clothing boxes towering to the ceiling, and toys EVERYWHERE.  My fear of finding spiders in my shoes has been replaced by checking for Squinkies and Barbie shoes. Our daughter's bedroom is the size of my mom's closet; our son sleeps in our room at the foot of the bed (in a crib!).  And have I mentioned before that we have our piano in the kitchen? Blasphemy. 
  And thus we have decided to build on to our house.  We're refinancing to a 15-year mortgage and adding 4 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms.  We'll have a blessed garage and enough storage space to hide a...well, use your imagination.  We couldn't be more excited!
  After meeting with our architect a few times we came up with a plan that we all agreed on.  It's interesting working with an architect because you could tell he had this huge pool of knowledge that we didn't have.  It seems like every time we started a sentence with "Couldn't we..." he would have to kindly explain that no, we couldn't.  I was grateful because he saved us from having windows in the roof, a full-size window in the shower, and a staircase with two feet of headroom.  That's why we paid him the big bucks.
  We ran into a few problems building onto such an old house, however.  We can't put any more weight on the rock foundation so we have to build the addition slightly separate from the house.  We need to do another utility closet to service the new section.  Also, the spot where the house is going is infested by Box Elder Bugs.  Good luck constructioneers!  They're annoying little pests.  If you sit outside too long they get in your hair and crawl up your legs.  I can't handle it.
  We also recently took out a huge tree in that same spot so the construction folks will be battling some interesting roots trying to dig for a concrete slab. 
The north side of our house before the tree was removed
The remains...

  My dad is helping with the construction.  He's a master electrician so we bribed him with home-cooked meals and grandkid time to come up and help us.  I just hope he doesn't react to our blueprints the same way he did to my clubhouse.  
 

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Rewind 2 years...

  What's not to love about an old house?  Few things cause you to reflect on the past like a building that has withstood the test of time.
  Back when my husband and I were newly married we attended an estate auction held in a field near his parents' home.  We love going to auctions, even though we are usually too poor to buy anything.  Listening to a talented auctioneer do his job is like music to us.
  On the way home we walked by an old rock house that sat back on its lot, dwarfed by the massive trees surrounding it.  I was enthralled!  I grew up in a cookie-cutter neighborhood that was born in the 1980's.  I'd never seen such an old home that people actually lived in.  It had a classic white picket fence lining the front sidewalk and a creek-style irrigation canal in the front. 
  I remember thinking how much I would love to live in an old house like that.
  A few years later we got a call from the guy who lived there.  He had moved to Oregon and needed someone to mow the lawn while he was trying to sell it.  We were currently running a lawn care business that has since been sold.  Since I happened to be in the car with him when he got the call so we went over to check it out together.  The man's wife gave me a tour of the house.  Three months and several signatures later, it was ours!
  When the owners before us moved in originally, they did a TON of work to make it nicer.  We were able to move in and pick right up where they left off in improving it.
  
The garden in the front yard
Garden

The north side of the house

The north side outside the property line

Northwest side

The backyard (west side)

Backyard (south side)

Backyard

The shed

Shed interior



Backyard facing north

Blackberries


Front yard facing east


North side of the house

Flower bed in front of the porch

Front view


Front yard facing east
We knew from the beginning that we wouldn't fit in this house forever.  Buying a house with that understanding can be risky.  After moving in we already felt cramped; old houses are not known for their abundance of storage space.  We only had one daughter at this time, and hadn't accrued very many toys.  We were also paying off a truckload of student loans so we really didn't have much of anything. 
   
 

Saturday, July 21, 2012

Introduction

   My husband and I have always loved old houses.  We have been known to go out of our way to gawk at them and are innately curious about what they're like on the inside.  We've been caught sneaking through abandoned Victorians and discreetly taking pictures from our parked car.  We crave to know stories of the people who have inhabited these incredible homes!  It's this addiction that led us to purchase our first home, a tiny two-bedroom pioneer rock house.  We did what no home buyer should ever do--bought the first house we looked at.  We fell in love with it.
   Now, only two years later, we still love living here and have no desire to move.  Living in an old house is a constant project, the extent of which can only be appreciated by those who have experienced it. My husband, a perpetual handyman with a love for creative hard work, is always working on a project while planning the next two.  Living here would not be possible without him.
   We have two perfect children, a boy and a girl.  My husband teaches Spanish and works in Real Estate while I get to play at my dream job, teaching second grade.
  My goal in this blog is to document the journey we make as we live a modern life in a home that is older than the state it is built in.  I'll tell you about any remodeling, updating, or pest controlling/hunting/killing that is required in such an ancient house.  I am also constantly trying to gather information about the people who have lived here before us.  I'll be researching the many old houses in our surrounding community and telling the history of our ancestors in the process.
   If you are also ridiculously in love with old houses you are welcome to come along!