The good news. And then the bad!

And just when everything was moving along so nicely!

The homestead has been rapidly changing by the day. The barn is looking great with siding, windows and roof all in place. The old house has been partially demolished, the 'new' extension being totally removed in addition to all of the vinyl siding on the old structure. So we are now down to bare studs. So first here is the good news. We had planned on putting in a simple attic ladder to access the barn loft but were persuaded by Jerry, our framer, to install a set of stairs. Climbing the completed stairs it seemed so obvious that we should build-out a second guest room in the loft space above the gallery. There's plenty of space and although access will be from the workshop, this would provide us with occasional guest accomodation without the expense of building a seperate guest cottage. And so, ever concious of cost, we agreed to move forward and at least have the space framed and roughed-out for the plumbing and other utilities. We can decide on the final build-out depending on how our budget looks in the next couple of months.

Decision made, we believed we were ahead of the game. And then came the bad news.  

As you will probably be aware, we felt very strongly that we needed to preserve the old structure as far as possible and build around this. Our architect determined that the 'bones' of the old house were in good shape and our builder concurred. When the old siding was removed there were some signs of minor termite damage but overall the structure looked good. That is until you looked down. Once the plywood flooring was torn out to reveal the original wood planking, there was a distinct curve to the floor, with up to seven inches difference in level. I should explain here that the orignal building was built on what they call a pier and beam foundation. This entails laying 1" x 6" beams across piers that are usually dug into the ground, or in our case, large rocks and concrete blocks laid on the ground. It seems that there may be a natural water run-off underneath the house, with moisture being wicked up by the concrete blocks. Over time the uneveness of the concrete block and rock foundation, coupled with the dampness that has been transferred to the beams and floor boards has caused the entire floor to warp. Once wood has warped it's not an easy task to unbend it. In fact the warp is pretty much permanent, I know, I've dealt with the challenge of trying to get a straight board from one that is warped. So what do we do? Our project manager and framer gave us a couple of solutions; either we could try and stabilize the piers, relevel the floor as best as possible and then build a new floor on top of the old one, or we could just demolish the entire structure and re-build from scratch.



The Front Room Before and During Partial Demo

So I've been in one of my funks. I mean, when we bought the house, as trashy and shoddy and useless as it was, it still had a value. $100,000 worth to be exact. And so to preserve the historic value was also preserving an investment. Throwing this out of the window is not an easy pill for me to swallow and in hindsight I should have considered this possibility. Hindsight may be 20/20 but as Confucius said, "If you make a mistake and do not correct it, this is called a mistake." Clearly levelling the floor is the cheapest option but this will likely bring problems down the road as there is no guarantee that the piers, and consequently the floor, will not move again. To correct this issue in the future would be, I think, extremely costly and very definitely disruptive. So we have decided to tear the old house down and re-build. At least we'll keep to the original floor plan and so construct a replica of the original house, keeping what we know of the historic features intact.

I feel sad that this old house can't be saved. It's served a succession of working families for 100 years and perhaps deserves a better end than this. But as in life, it doesn't matter how sound the structure may be for without a strong foundation, all is for naught. 

I suppose the saving grace is that this is our heirs' money we're spending, so we really shouldn't be too concerned. Should we? Nah!

And on a final note. A gentleman should never ask a lady her age and should certainly not publish it on the Internet. In my blog of the Independence Day parade, I recounted our joy in meeting one of Thelma's friends, a young lady from England, and mistakenly reported her age as ... well it really doesn't matter. What's important is that she is not as old as I reported. Not in actual years and certainly not in heart or spirit. I am so sorry and I hope she will forgive my clumsiness and indiscretion.







    


                              

Following Our Bliss

I'm just back from Barcelona were I spent the weekend at a stag party for my eldest son who is getting married in February. The group included his uncle and several of his uncle's friends, all of whom were good friends of mine back in the early 70's. This older group was quickly labelled as the "Last of the Summer Winers" based on the popular BBC series featuring the comical adventures of four old farts. I thought we fit the bill fairly well. Plus, it was a great excuse for us to end the proceedings at a reasonable hour and leave the younger Turks to their late night (read 'early morning') drinking. I was sorry that my younger two couldn't join their older brothers in the celebration -- but then again I'm not too sure I could have afforded that! But to listen to old stories and laugh so hard that tears ran down my face was priceless time with guys I hadn't seen in more than 30 years.


The Last of the Summer Winers. 
Left to right, Les, Rob and Ed 

That so much time had passed between us, seemingly so quickly, made me very conscious of my own passing years. Not in a depressing sort of way, but in the way you feel when reading a great book and realize that the epilogue is much closer to your right hand than the prologue is to your left. Several people have commented on the speed with which we consummated the purchase of this property, finalized the building design and started construction. The simple truth is that I don't want to spend more time in this process than what is absolutely necessary. We are not chasing the perfect outcome, for what is "perfection" after all? I believe that perfection can only be measured at the exact moment of analysis - our opinions being very likely to change over time as new experiences influence our perceptions. So we weigh our choices, make a decision based on what seems right at the time and then, most importantly, convince ourselves to live with the consequences in the belief that we know what makes us happy.

"The way to find out about happiness is to keep your mind on those moments when you feel most happy, when you are really happy — not excited, not just thrilled, but deeply happy. This requires a little bit of self-analysis. What is it that makes you happy? Stay with it, no matter what people tell you. This is what is called following your bliss.” - Joseph Campbell


Workshop (right) and Gallery (left) with a driveway,
or what is locally known as a Dog Trot, through the middle

We are thrilled with the progress that our builder is making. We are even more pleased with the feedback and suggestions we are getting that are helping us with important decisions. Like putting a fixed staircase in the workshop instead of an attic ladder so that we can more easily access the large loft space for storage or perhaps for additional guest space in the future. The wall framing for the barn is almost complete. I was surprised at how big it looks, especially as the east wall is five feet off the ground owing to the structure being built on a slope. It will change the landscape, which embarrasses me a little as I wanted to be low key. But there were no alternatives that would have created any less of a profile. So following our philosophy, we know this is the right place. 
    
Our visits to the property are getting less frequent now that building is underway. We're missing our friends over at Miracle Farm but our absence is temporary. In fact most of our recent visits have been social invites from our ever widening circle friends in the area. This is so exciting. Perhaps in thirty years time I might be sitting with them too, reminiscing over a few beers and some good laughs!

Real Tonka Toys

It's hard to describe that primordial feeling we males get in the presence of big trucks, huge cranes and large pieces of noisy machinery. It stirs something in the male psyche which is probably why our boys just loved to push around those big yellow Tonka toys in the back yard. And so it was last week when the concrete was poured for the foundations and a train of concrete trucks rumbled up our rutted driveway to pour concrete into the skip of a huge concrete pump. Up on the foundation forms, a large bearded guy quietly stood to one side holding a radio-controlled remote in his hand, casually directing the pump around the foundation as it spewed out thousands of pounds of the wet, gray material, while a gang of workers fussed, filled and flattened the concrete until it was level with the top of the forms. And while some sort of controlled chaos might have been expected, this was a well orchestrated performance. Everyone knew their job and their place and simply got on with it.     

As I watched all this action unfold I suddenly started to worry about the cost. (You know me and if you don't then you need to read my earlier blogs on this subject!). I mean, it's one thing to buy a Tonka truck at the local toy store and imagine it digging, lifting, hauling and tipping; but it's quite another thing to have a whole fleet of real Tonkas performing on your account! I guess I need to trust our builder who has after all budgeted the project and who, I hope, has a lot more experience in these matters than me.

The foundation is what is called an engineered foundation, meaning it's like a waffle with deeply formed and reinforced concrete beams criss-crossing the pad, with a concrete slab being poured into the space in between and to a depth of four inches or so over the entire area. The workshop sits on a slope so the foundation at the lower end is elevated about five feet. We will eventually build a wall with field stone that will hide the concrete and give the effect of having the building standing on a field stone foundation. Framing will start this week and our first priority will be to finalize the window locations and select the windows.  

My overall mood was not helped last week when I stupidly tripped on the stairs at home and ended up breaking some tiny bone in my wrist that necessitated the wearing of a soft cast. My right wrist! We had arranged a U-Haul truck to pick up some milled boards from our sawmill in Houston. Unfortunately, the sawmill owner had his own problems and instead of being there to help us load the wood was at the hospital having surgery after a tree trunk rolled on to his finger. So there we were, me with my wrist in a brace and my partner decked out in her work gloves, facing a stack of 26 boards, each one about eight feet long, two feet wide and 2" thick. So we set to and after some maneuvering managed to lift the first board into the back of the truck. It was surprisingly heavy. We looked at each other and realized in some despair that we had, to coin a phrase, a problem! We were never going to be able to move this pile of wood on our own. My partner, who is never afraid of asking for what she wants, spied a couple of road construction workers, walked over to them and politely asked if they would help.

I stood there looking helpless, cradling my damaged wrist and feeling fairly sure that their supervisor would not allow them such a distraction (My partner would argue that I still haven't lost that British reserve). Surprisingly, for me at least, they took pity on us and our problem was solved. Except that we still had to figure out how to unload the wood at the other end. This particular issue was sorted by a phone call to our good friends over at Miracle Farm who turned out in force to help. So all's well that ends well and we now have 500 board feet of pecan, saved from the city dump, air drying. I should add that the wood drying saga is not over as we have another five logs at the mill waiting to be milled.








                          
             



                   

Live oaks and a lively dog!

Fall has enabled me to work without the oppressive heat and humidity that has given me the "Mad Englishman" nickname gained in certain circles! The weather has been so perfect here. We have picnicked at lunch and dinner and have enjoyed the fabulous sunsets and a glass or two of wine with our very special neighbors with whom we are growing increasingly fond. The site is cleared up. The majority of the fences have been removed. Work is progressing on pruning out the live oak trees. We have settled on a workshop design and location. We agree our floor plan is good to go. And now we have a builder in whom we have confidence to bring our dreams to fruition. We'll call him Bob (as in the Builder) and he has already started building the forms for the workshop and garage foundations. Seeing the action, our friends across the road at Miracle Farms brought over a couple of picnic tables for the workers to use, thoughtfully placing them in the shade of a nearby live oak.

Live oaks are revered in the southern United States. People down here have a special respect for their age and their grandeur and the unique shade that an old live oak offers with its leafy, drooping branches that welcome and then envelope you in a green-domed, sun-dappled sanctum. To stand next to one of these huge organisms and to touch its rough bark is to feel the history that is encapsulated in its twisted trunk and branches and realize that this beautiful creation will likely still be around long after we're gone. How can you not be overawed by such beauty and majesty?                           

We had a crane lift a live oak trunk that had broken off one of the trees. Live oak is one of the densest woods in North America and we estimated the weight of this trunk to be six tons or more. Although most of the trunk was hollowed by decay, we did manage to cut two straight pieces about eight feet long and 36" round and have sent these to a sawmill in Houston where it will be cut into boards. I hope to give this old wood a second life and longevity as a piece of furniture. A small concreted and covered area that we had been wondering what to do with, has now been designated as a wood drying shed and I spent most of the week fabricating the shed walls and drying racks. It's a lot of fun rough cutting wood with a chain saw and makes a welcome change from the precision of furniture building. But it didn't help when a neighbor's puppy dog, a border collie mix, who we think is called Mandy, created a pile of confetti from my chainsaw manual that she quietly and expertly stole from right under my nose. I say expertly because she has similarly taken work gloves, water bottles, and socks - you name it. In short she's an out and out thief. But I admit that I have developed a bit of a soft spot for this puppy and enjoy having her around. Every man should have a dog but I need my sister to come out here and train it!

                                   

     

Mad Dogs and Englishmen

There is so much happening that I have found it difficult finding time to keep up with my blog. So we'll start with Labor Day when met up with our 24-year old son and his girlfriend in Sturgeon Bay WI. I hadn't seen him since March so it was good to see him again. He gave us a book called "A Place of My Own" by Michael Pollan. It's basically the story of how Pollan designs and builds a one-room cabin behind his house in northern Connecticut. Sounds simple? Not the way he does it. Pollan approaches this seemingly simple task with the same thoroughness and attention to detail as one would building something 100 times the size. I haven't finished the book yet but found a resonance in his struggles with getting the building in the exact right spot. He samples Feng Shui, studies the great architects of the past and present, consults with his own architect and of course wisely gets his wife's counsel. Inspired, I went back to our site plan.

One of the guiding ideas suggested by Pollan's architect is to think of where you might pitch a tent. You need protection from the elements and thus surround yourself by terrain if possible. You don't want to be under any trees, but trees offer shade and a barrier to wind, so a closeness is desirable. Everywhere we've experimented with so far -- and we have tried five different locations -- just didn't seem right. So we tried to think of where we would pitch a tent, bearing in mind that we had to be away from the oak tree roots, one foot for every one inch of trunk diameter. We eventually decided to place the workshop closer to the house and in the middle of the existing driveway (which is in fact more like a rutted cart path than an actual drive), creating a tight group of buildings with a sort of courtyard at the center. (Note that it's no longer a "barn", having given up on the idea of re-creating the old barn and succumbing to my partner's desire to keep the existing structure intact. Well a fella can change his mind can't he?) Removing many of the fences helped our decision as now, instead of several separate pastures, we have one contiguous piece of land without barriers. So here is an image from Google Earth showing our site plan with the new driveway looping through a covered drive-through in the workshop building and into the "courtyard".  

Pulling fence posts was hard, hot and sweaty work in the Texas summer sun. But it has made a huge difference. Despite protesting that she would never drive the tractor, I couldn't get my partner off the thing once she got the hang of rolling posts out of the ground, leaving me to cut wire and drag them out. You know, the real cowboy stuff. Our neighbor commented on the fact that not many locals are out there working past midday, which brought to mind that lovely song by Noel Coward, the chorus of which goes:             
Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.
The Japanese don't care to, the Chinese wouldn't dare to,
Hindus and Argentines sleep firmly from twelve to one,
But Englishmen detest a siesta,
In the Philippines there are lovely screens, to protect you from the glare,
In the Malay states there are hats like plates, which the Britishers won't wear,
At twelve noon the natives swoon, and no further work is done -
But Mad Dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.

But the cooler weather this past week has been a joy to behold. We set-up a picnic table and chairs under the trees and had several dinners and lunches outside, our $24 Walmart table, adorned with a single rose, placed there by my partner, matching anything from the spiffiest of restaurants.

The Deed Abstract - A Piece of Texas History

When we first started this journey, we were keenly aware of the history we were inheriting with this property. This was brought home when my partner found a trunk full of artifacts that chronicled the life of the Schwartz family that had owned the property since 1890. Unfortunately, amazingly, the trunk was left out on the back porch by the previous owners and so many of the contents are damaged. However, one priceless object was retrieved intact, a deed abstract compiled for William Schwaze (sic) when he first purchased the land. This was compiled in beautiful copperplate handwriting, the most interesting entry being the original transaction that documents the transfer of 4,428 acres (or one league) of land to William Bridge on November 2, 1832. Now I have to admit that until now, my knowledge of Texas history was primarily gained from watching Fess Parker, The Lone Ranger, The Cisco Kid and Hopalong Cassidy on a 9" black and white Bush television set. From these historic chronicles I learned about Davy Crockett and the Alamo. And that other than Tonto, the Red Indians were always the bad guys. And that Texas would be a cool place to go when I grew up.

So you will have to excuse my ignorance of the events leading up to the formation of the State of Texas. The accompanying photograph is a copy of this page and it shows that the land was given by the Government of Mexico as a Grant for Services. The rest of it reads: Wm Bridge was a colonist under Stephen F. Austin, in ? up the State of Texas under the Mexican Government, as such colonist he was entitled to and received a Grant for 4428 acres of land, (or a league), which he located in Washington Co Texas the original grant being on record .... in Austin Texas.

William Bridge was one of the original "Texas 300" settlers who were granted land in return for keeping the peace with the native Indians. So basically the Mexicans took the land from the Indians and gave it to the settlers who then won it fom Mexico in the Texas War of Independence. Hmmmmm!!! 

My original fears about this project were the costs and this is the one thing that still keeps me awake at night. A visit to my woodworking mentor and very good friend in Sturgeon Bay WI last week showed me that a workshop does not need to be complicated and while the idea of replicating the barn still seems to a good idea from an aesthetic standpoint, I am beginning to wonder if the costs of maintaining the character of a 100-year old barn versus a standard 50' x 30' building are worth it.  We are also still trying to decide on the location of the barn/workshop and realizing that building placement is perhaps more difficult than we initially realized. Other than keeping the foundation and structure away from the trees; driveways, access, views, landscaping and aesthetics are all interlinked, with each change of location affecting any number of factors for better or worse.                     

We are still waiting on responses from several builders contractors. I hope that by the time I write my next blog we will have made a decision. Time will tell -- and I fear it will likely be Brenham time!

An Early Start to the Day

It's 6:30am and it's quiet out here on the front porch where I sit with my cup of hot tea. Taken how it should be, with milk. We don't want any of that green or black stuff and certainly none of the iced variety at this time of the morning. Emma, our precious 13 year old dog, comes out and lays down beside me, grunting at the effort. I know how she feels.

The sun is warming the eastern sky. Like me it is not quite ready for the day. To the west a full moon still hangs in the sky like a petulant child who is refusing to come indoors. The quietness out here is a different kind of quiet. A rooster crows against a background of chirping crickets. Cattle are mooing everywhere around us, punctuated by the occasional whinny of a horse. Somewhere a dog signals its presence with an occasional bark and Emma momentarily lifts her ears, checking to make sure her porch is safe. It's rather cool this morning which is refreshing after the 100F temperatures we've had in Houston. Our first cool front signalling the end of summer and the promise of many, many more mornings like this.

We are starting again on the process of finding ourselves a builder. We think we now know the difference between a builder, a general contractor and a jobber. Jobbers don't show up or respond after the first meeting. Builders have computers and e-mail addresses and are generally familiar with the requirements, materials and newest technology. General contractors need a lot of guidance, although we did meet with one yesterday who is pretty savvy but spent most of the time talking about how savvy he really was. Although I may deny this comment in the future, we now believe we have four, possibly five good possibilities and look forward to getting their estimates by the time we return from our trip to Sturgeon Bay.

The property is now pretty much cleaned up. We've filled four 30 cubic yard roll-offs as well as a smaller one full of metal. I've dragged the old farm implements from their burial sites and deposited them in the open until we decide what to do with them. Lee has started trimming our gorgeous oak trees and they are already looking like someone cares. You know how it is when you take your shaggy-haired kid on that overdue trip to the hairdresser and they come out looking all trim and clean. That's kinda like how it is. Lee's wife calls him Mr Myagi, after the teacher in Karate Kid who fastiduously trims his minature Bonsai trees with a pair of nail clippers. Lee's like that.

And finally I would like to take this opportunity to advise all of you would-be tractor drivers out there of a little know fact about tractor operations that does not appear in the John Deere handbook. When moving forward with speed, do not put the front loader on the ground. This has the unintended consequence of bringing the tractor to a dead stop. And I mean a dead stop. Don't ask, it was a senior moment which I am still wondering about myself!    
      
            








                     






    

The Saga of the New Barn

Building a bloody barn can't be this bloody difficult! The concept was really simple. Build a barn, rectangular with four walls, a 10' ceiling and a roof. This would house a workshop and a furniture gallery that would double as a small apartment. Situate it somewhere away from the oak trees but close enough to the house so that I don't have to catch a bus to work every morning. Design it so that it will look like the existing barn, same roof pitch with a low shed running along one side. Place some windows along the other side so I could have some natural light while creating sawdust. A nice view would be optional - I mean, it's not advisable to work at a table saw with a 10" saw blade revolving at 6,000 rpm while admiring the pretty view outside! But I digress. Construct the barn from metal, wood, Lego bricks -- it really doesn't matter as long as it stands up in a strong wind and keeps the rain out. And then clad the structure with the old wood siding salvaged from the existing barn and Presto! a modern, purpose-built space that looks like an old barn. Oh, and let's keep in mind that this needs to be constructed on a budget. I'm not planning on working in something that mimics the Taj Mahal. Are we ok so far? Yes, I agree that there are many details omitted but is the overall vision clear to you? I am very interested in your thoughts because so far I seem to be the only person who 'gets' it.

So here is the story. Given this vision, our architect had two tries at a design, the first submission being a two-storey structure set among the oak trees that wouldn't have been out of place in the swankiest area of Houston; and the second being a more modest but somewhat impractical design that improvised on a very detailed floor plan that I had submitted. Now my mother always wanted me to be an architect and I could feel her spirit pushing me forward with those immortal words of hers ringing in my ears, "Eee our Andy, I wish you'd stuck in at school and made something of yourself. You could have been an architect you know." Thus inspired, I drew up exactly what I wanted. After doing a measured survey on how much siding the old barn would yield, I created four sets of scaled elevations to go with the floor plan. So far so good. My partner and I went to the site where we picked and staked a location that would feature a nice driveway between two large pecan trees. This was seen as great progress and we were both very pleased with our efforts.

The second hurdle was two-fold. Firstly, our chosen location was on a slope that would have featured forming four to five feet of fill (that's called an alliteration for those of you without a literary bent). Not only would this add to the cost but according to our tree guy, there was a danger that the weight of the fill would damage the pecan tree root system. We couldn't easily move the building away from the trees as we had a power line easement behind the building. So back to the drawing board I went.

In the meantime, one of the prospective contractors told us last week as he presented his proposal for the barn construction, that he wasn't going to install the old siding or even prepare the building to take the siding. What? He didn't seem to think it was that important. Says who? So, in the time it took him to utter that fateful sentence he went from being our favorite-contractor-most-likely-to-do-the-work, to dead last. This started to give me the impression that either I wasn't communicating properly or people were just not listening and as I felt my frustration rising ..............

I took my partner onto the site to look at a prospective new location, this one being at the top of the hill where we could still have a driveway coming between the trees and a lovely view to the west of us. The only change was a re-orientation of the building so that the view from the road would be a barn wall of old pine siding. We both liked the idea of this location and the orientation, so armed with a 100' tape, a couple of pegs and my land surveying skills (which I have to say are quite considerable even without a theodolite or GPS), we staked out the new location. It was a grand effort and a fitting end to a good week.

Yesterday I spent a couple of hours enthusiastically laying out the revised floor plan and elevations together with the new location so that we could send it out to our prospective contractors. I thought we were looking good until I showed them to my partner. "Shouldn't the windows be facing the road?", was all she said.....................!

I never believed that such a simple project would take so much time and lead to so much frustration. So for the moment I am done with barns and workshops; barndominiums and galleries; pottery rooms and finishing rooms; wood storage areas and driveways. I am also done with planning the deconstruction of old barns. It can stay there until it falls down. Which would be a shame, because there is a lot of good wood that could be re-purposed and given a new life.

Building a bloody barn can't be this bloody difficult!      


             



          

An Essential Piece of Tooling

So I got my shiny green tractor, although it is a little off putting to have certain unnamed female observers refer to it as 'cute'. Bottom line is that this essential piece of tooling enabled us to do more in three days than we have done in a month. With the help of a couple of laborers we cleared the barn of rubbish and hay, pulled out all of the fences at the back of the big barn, cleared the unsightly burn pile as well as picking up most of the other junk around the site. It wasn't quite so easy getting used to the front loader and the first day was an exercise in frustration as I moved a pile of hay from point A to Point B and back to Point A again while managing to actually pick-up three handfuls in the bucket! (And this might be overly exaggerated as I have a strong suspicion that the wind may have helped some). Meanwhile my partner (on her cute little John Deere riding mower) has trimmed all of the grass around the house. So the property is starting to look a lot better.  Our first before and after pictures are of the barn. Removing the hay will now allow us to 'deconstruct' the structure to salvage the barn wood siding.

Before - Junk piled on top of three to four feet of compacted hay

I have previously wrote about the strong community we have joined and this was further strengthened through our introduction this week to our neighbors across the road at Miracle Farms. This is essentially a boarding school for at-risk children with the goal of building confidence and work ethics in teenagers from 7th grade up by teaching them horse riding and roping skills. We met the director and a number of his staff members and got a tour of the property which stretches over 320 acres of the most beautiful countryside. It was a surprise to learn that they have a well-equipped wood shop and a need for some help in that area. Hmmmm!! Do you think I could help there?
I hope you will take the opportunity to look at their program on their Web site at http://www.childrenatheartministries.org/Page.aspx?pid=366&srcid=586. This is a neat program.

Any program that supports and helps children, especially those that are at risk of falling through the cracks of our society, is worthy of support and I don't care who runs or sponsors the organization. So we are very happy to having this facility on our doorstep and look forward to exploring ways in which we can support the organization.           

After - We hope to be able to re-use these old floor boards in the house

A Break With Grace

Our last week at the homestead was fairly hectic as we met with the two contractors that we'll be getting bids from and finalized the floor plan on the house. We are currently taking a break here in the UK we are enjoying some lovely weather. We stayed at a small B&B in North Yorkshire and enjoyed the company of my two Very Best Friends (is that ok lads?) one of whom was celebrating his Ruby Wedding anniversary with his lovely wife. Who I might add deserves a medal for putting up with him for forty odd years! But I take pride in having introduced the two of them at some party back in the 60's and we could all see it was love at first sight. It was a great party.  From North Yorkshire up to Whickham where we were reunited with our precious grand-daughter, Grace. She is heaven personified. Happy, playful and so full of expression it is hard not to know what this girl wants.

So here is the latest news on the homestead. After much agonizing we (and please note the emphasis on the 'we' here) have decided that we need a tractor. Hold on ladies before you start, this is not just another expensive "man-toy". This is an essential piece of tooling that will enable us maintain the property in an orderly and efficient way. We'll need it with a front-loader, a bush hog and a trailer. Perhaps fork-lifts at some stage. And if you are really nice to me I might let some of you play with drive it. You got to be really nice though! So the big task for me next week is to find a medium size tractor.

And while we're talking about "we" decisions, I also persuaded my partner to go with the fireplace in the master bedroom, a significant addition that will allow us to truly make the front of the house look as it was. Plus it will be nice and romantic to have a fire going on those cold January days and nights. So if you arrive unannounced and see smoke coming from the chimney at the front of the house this does not mean we've elected a new Pope. You might want to come back tomorrow.

Independence Day

Like Yorkshire sheep farmers, progress is defined as some big steps and some li'l uns. After a good initial clean-up, a week of rain prevented the laborers from doing any more work so my partner and I set to with pitchforks and wheelbarrow to start clearing out the remains of the hay from the big barn. We worked hard but took advantage of the unusual low temperatures that prevailed last week. Things seemed to be going so well -- but then I lost my glasses, got a blister on my finger and was stung by a wasp! Feeling a little sorry for myself I felt myself missing the city, the whine of traffic on the Interstate, the perpetual cacaphony of sirens and helicopters and well, World Cup soccer on TV. But after seeing the results of our hard work - a clear patch of wood on the barn floor - it was all worthwhile. We slept in the house for a night, in what will eventually become the master bedroom, and felt surprisingly rested despite the air mattress. I say it's good Feng Shui. It gave us a great feel for the space and the good news is that my partner has agreed that a fireplace in the master bedroom would be nice. This will help return the house to its historic look which can be seen from this old picture of the original Schwartz family outside of the homestead.

Our best friends came up from Houston for a day and we delighted in showing them around, toasting our good fortune with a glass of champagne. They gave us some great suggestions to improve the floor plan and we now feel very comfortable that we have a workable plan. We got some ballpark estimates from local contractors and have chosen two who we would like to work with. And so we'll get our architect to make some minor tweaks and move ahead to solicit bids. The goal is to get the contractor selected by the end of July or early August and have the first phase - the barn and apartment - completed by November. I hope this will not give cause for us to be reminded of Robert Burns' mouse and its fateful home............   
The best laid schemes o'mice an' men   
Gang aft agley
An lea'e us nought but grief an' pain
For promis'd joy!

But positive thoughts are all around us and none more so than those we are experiencing from the local community. This was really brought home to us when we went to the Independence Day celebrations in the one-street town of Independence with our new friends and neighbors. Man, this is really small town America. This is America at its very best - a parade, a community party and of course the obligatory fireworks display that always bring a lump to my throat. (Yeh, well, I'm just a big softy when it comes to these things!). And what a parade it was. We had vintage cars, vintage tractors, fire trucks, floats and yes, even local politicians vying for the public's vote. I'll be nice and refrain from comment on that one. And whenever I was unable to cadge an import beer from our neighbor's generous cooler, Bud was $1 a can. But what made it so special was the sense of community. We met new neighbors and new friends including one lovely 92 year-old English lady from Taunton, Somerset, who lives in near-by Brenham. Without any reservation this was the best 4th of July parade we have ever experienced. We left the homestead  looking a little better today, with freshly cut grass and a lot of the junk gone. Can't wait to get back.    


 

   

Unearthing a Forgotten Treasure

Those of you who stay close to Bogle news know that we finally closed on our new Texas country home a couple of weeks ago. We are now the proud owners of 32 acres of Texas country. After closing we bought some BBQ at Big Daddys, drove up to the top of our hill, watched the sun set and toasted our good fortune with a couple of cold long necks. Things are moving quickly, or as fast as laid-back Brenham allows. We have pretty much settled on the architect's homestead design but decided to lay-out the barn/workshop ourselves to keep it simple and affordable. Work on clean-up started last week and we've made great progress clearing the site of a 100 years of junk, filling one 30 cubic yard roll-off and expecting another full load next week. But among the empty feed bags and plastic barrels we have found some gems, the best being an old horse drawn farm trailer with iron spoked wheels. It was an amazing find, made even more so by the fact that it was easily wheeled out of the barn!

We were also surprised by a major omission from the realtor's property description. We discovered we have some wonderful neighbors and were honored to be invited to dine at our next-door neighbor's home last week. This couple breed and train cutting horses. Now being from England where I imagine there are few if any requirements for cutting horses, you must excuse me for being a little ignorant of the purpose of these lovely animals. I thought they were the beasts that race around the barrels, as seen at the Houston Rodeo which until now has been my only exposure to horses. Well other than those pathetic little ponies that used to patrol up and down South Shields beach carrying snotty nosed kids on their weary backs. After confidently expressing my misplaced beliefs to our neighbors they were, well, somewhat taken aback. So they showed me a video of cutting horses in action and patiently explained how these horses were used to "cut" individual cows from the herd. Which, if you know anything about cows, is a rather difficult task given the stubborn nature of cows combined with their predilection to stay with the herd. Anyway, these horses and riders are magnificently skilled and it's a thrill to watch them do their thing. If you want to see the video go to YouTube and search for "The Thrill of Cutting Horses".

Next week we'll be attending the 4th July celebrations in Independence which, I've heard, is where all the action will be. My partner has strongly advised me not to express my personal view that this holiday is to celebrate England's independence from a troublesome colony. Some people have no sense of humor.
                 

Don't Pop The Champagne Cork Yet!

Aggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Sorry, did I wake you? Three months of waiting and when the week of closing arrives it turns out that one of the sellers had an undeclared lien on a little piece of the property. The company holding the lien couldn't get the paperwork turned around in time so everything was postponed until next week. We had a locksmith, a builder, a bee keeper (don't ask!), an arborist, the next door neighbor and good friends from Houston all poised in the wings waiting to descend on this little piece of Texas just as soon as the ink was dry. Well it wasn't going to happen so we came home.    

I wanted to mention the state of the property. By that I mean the state that the sellers are leaving for us to clean up. I can't believe that people are so irresponsible. I can't imagine that people don't feel an acute sense of embarassment having people see them live in such conditions. We stopped by the property on the way out to dinner last night and noticed that a gate was missing. Not the puny garden variety, but a large please-close-it-or-the-cows-will-get-out type of gate. Turns out the sellers just wanted an extra gate - you know how you can never find one when you need it - so they simply took one home with them.                          

We spent the night at the Captain Clay, a wonderful B&B in Independence, Texas, population 125. This historic house is owned by a darling, mature lady called Thelma. As well as managing a B&B, Thelma - who is remarkably sprite despite her frail size and advanced years - keeps goats and minature horses. As if to prove she takes no shit from anyone (and she is refreshingly forthright) she also drives a Hummer. Thelma is an Anglophile and takes pride in her British heritage over that of the Germans and Czechs who also settled the area. In fact Independence was settled by the English, who for once in their history didn't plant a Union Jack in the ground and declare war against the locals on behalf of the empire. Perhaps it was because Texas had several flags already. Formerly known as Coles Settlement and established in 1824, Independence was the place to be in Washington County until Brenham beat it out by two votes as the seat of the county government in a county-wide vote . And yes, they changed the name to celebrate Texas' independence from Mexico. The Brits are never far away from a good fight are they?                                      

We Are Adopting a 100-year Heritage

There is an old sepia picture hanging in the living room of the house that shows three generations of the original settlers. Indeed, the current owners are direct decendents of those same Germans who staked their future in Texas. The original homestead likely covered a hundred acres or more but was subsequently divided among the heirs as their forebears passed on to that great big dude ranch in the sky. And so the plots got smaller and smaller.

We spent a whole day there yesterday meeting with our architects, a local builder, the land surveyors and a farm insurance company. So I walked the site again for the first time since we signed the contract, this time in full knowledge that this little piece of God's country was going to be ours in about three weeks time. And I just loved the feeling. Home from college, one of our doubting sons came along with us. We think he has now converted to our vision, which is just as well. It could be his one day.
                 
I am excited about expanding my woodworking space. I really need it to be able to produce top-quality work. I walked through the old barn and can picture how it's going to look, re-built and re-purposed. The builder reminded me that the floor boards, protected from the elements by a 100-year old covering of dirt, hay and general rubbish, may produce some fine lumber that could be used in the house. I must buy myself a pair of boots. No! no! no! -- not so that I can take on the Texan persona but so that I can walk around without the fear of been bitten by a sleeping Copperhead or Water Moccasin. And yes I need a pick-up truck. Hardly seems right pulling into this place in a red Audi A4 that barely clears the ground.

The builder reminds us that this must be "our" place. We agree. We know that our architects, so full of talent and vision, are going to come up with some great ideas. We can hardly wait to see them. But I know the hardest part is going to be deciding between stunning features vs what's going to work for us. And see, I wrote an entire blog without once referring to our budget. Ikea cabinets anyone? Damn. There I go again.
                                                 



              






                                                           

Home is the Sailor Home From the Sea

It's been a busy week. The inspector has been and gone, leaving us with a good report on the state of the property. One of our biggest hurdles was getting an appraisal that closely matched our agreed price. Buying country property and establishing what it's worth is a bit hit-and-miss. It's not like you have a dozen identical properties on which to base your price. But with some advise from our realtor and pouring over a handful of "comps", we made our best guess. The appraisor agreed. We were spot on. Yes! That felt good. We have ordered the survey and are now working on getting the septic system inspected. We have a June 10th closing. I have that feeling like you get when you get to the top of that first big incline on a roller coaster when you know you're in for a ride and there's no going back. Wheeeeee!

Our first argument yesterday over gates and fencing of all things. My partner wanted to put a gate on the driveway to secure the site when we're not there and leave the existing fence as-is. It's a sad looking metal post and wire affair. I wanted to install a cedar split-rail fence with a gate. It'll make the place look nice. Problem was we didn't realize we had a difference of opinion until I'd spent an hour on the phone with fence installers trying to get an estimate. I hate wasting time. And so I got a little hot under the collar. Miscommunication is the bain of marriage. Still not sure of what we're going to do other than defer the decision until later.    

Sailors are a strange bunch. Comes from all that time looking at nothing but sky and water. It brings about a a unique philosophy that is quickly recognized among those who have spent long spells at sea. My wife bought me an antique oar for my birthday. A splendid, large, solid piece of wood that was made for rowing real boats in big oceans. I immediately got the significance. From old salt stories, when sailors get ready to leave the sea they put an oar over one shoulder and walk inland. When someone asks what that is over their shoulder, that's where they stop and build a retirement home. We're there.                              

             
                              

Houston Time vs Brenham Time

On learning about our decision to move to the country, people react in one of two ways. There are those who are genuinely pleased for us, and those who frown and say something like, "Why the hell are you doing that!" or "That's gonna be a lot of work you know!" Like we'd never given this move more than a moments thought. As for the work, well all I can say is beware of invitations to outside BBQ's in the country or weekend trips "to see the property". There, I've said it and you have been suitably warned.

Ok, so while I'm warning people let's get something else cleared up. This is neither a ranch nor a farm. In practical terms it is too small to be either. We don't intend to keep cows, sheep, horses, pigs or goats. My partner has these occasional visions of keeping a coop full of hens and a pond full of ducks, but I hardly think this qualifies it as a farm. And other than a lot of grass, we won't be growing anything outside of a vegetable garden. I know it's popular to have a "ranch" or an "old farm" in the country but I think that's pretentious. We'll call it what it is, a homestead.    

In our pre-closing activities we are noticing two things about the country. One, people are - as they say here in Texas - mighty friendly. And two, things happen on a different time scale. And by time scale I am talking about much, much slower. We are having to learn that things don't move at Houston speeds up there and that, I think, is good. Although those that know me well can appreciate that this pace doesn't sit well with my impatience. I'll try and learn, I promise.

                                 

Can We Afford This?

Yesterday we talked to the bank and to our architect. And so we move on to a subject close to my heart and soul. Money. You'll probably get sick of reading about it long before I tire of talking about it. Our architect wisely said that I must consider the quality as well as the cost. My partner agreed - arguing with that annoying common sense she inherited from her Germanic grand-parents - that otherwise we might as well live in a double-wide trailer. Hmmm, this idea has merit. But 28 years of marriage has taught me there are times when its best just to go with the flow. Except in this case someone has to be the financial sea-anchor to my wife and our architect's grand vision. So I volunteer.

Our goal is to maintain the historic style of the property. On a budget. Our first idea is to de-construct the old barn and re-use the siding, which is one-inch thick long-leaf pine, to clad a metal building that will house the workshop and a small apartment giving us temporary accomodation during the project. We want to replicate the shape of the old barn and so maintain the historic ambiance of this old homestead. Well that's the idea.

But by the time we got through this and all of our other ideas with our architect, I had a distinct feeling that we had bitten off more than we could chew. There is a good case for doing this bit by bit as we can afford it, but for God's sake I am now 62 and don't want to see the final touches to our dream being made from my death bed.              
                               
Money don't get everything it's true, What it don't get I can't use. (The Beatles).

A New Beginning?

It seemed like a good idea at the time. We were ready to get out of the city and wanted to start a business based on my passion for building furtniture. What better than to buy a some acerage in the country where we could live with a bigger workshop and perhaps a gallery that would feature crafts from a range of artisans. We both sorta fell in love with the first place we visited. Sorta? Well behind a very small 100-year old farmhouse clad with vinyl siding; an ugly above-ground outdoor pool; abandonded tractors and farm implements along with a smattering of outbuildings on the brink of falling down, it did have its charm. Sorta. What we did fall in love with was the gentle rolling hills that reminded me of my native England, a stand of live oak trees that are somewhere between120 and 200 years and a strong feeling that this old, tired homestead needed some TLC. And so, after looking at a lot of other properties we studied the "comps", submitted our offer and, to cut a long story short, today we have a contract on a 32-acre property in central Texas.

So begins our story. Appraisals, surveys, decisions, financing, architects, decisions, builders, relationships, decisions, decisions, decisions. It's going to be an exciting, challenging journey.