Spring Awakening

It's been awhile since I last posted, but in the meantime, we've been settling into the place pretty well. We're actually coming up on a year in the house, which is ridiculous when I think about it. More ridiculous, of course, is the fact that we have weathered our first winter in Forest Glen with a rather deficient heating situation. I've posted about this before, and since then, there has been very little movement on the issue. We went through the coldest winter in Metro DC in several years, and definitely felt it... downstairs.

The number of times we called, emailed, and texted our contractors is laughable.  Rory, the one who actually gets things done when you need, is now nowhere to be found. Instead, we are left with Mark, who always seems to have somewhere else to be, someone else who needs something, or an ailment of some sort. You know the guy in your office whose grandma died seven or eight times over the last year or two? That's him. Who knows? Maybe he just has a big (ill?) family. But I'm to the point with health issues that I just nod and zone out until they're done being discussed.

What does the Postal Service saw about
snow, sleet, dark of night?
Yeah, they all stop our contractors
from making their appointed rounds...

A few weeks back, we finally managed to set a time for Mark to come out, but there was a "snowstorm." Then, he had to cancel at the last minute for another appointment, which I actually was glad about, since it was pretty warm out that day, and I wanted him to experience the downstairs cold first-hand. Finally, our schedules meshed last week, and he came out. I was relieved that he seemed stumped by the issue of no wind at all coming out of our downstairs vents... But not really, since I'm pretty positive it's because he turned them off when he came back in February when I was out of town and Abby called him for help. He came by two days ago and fiddled with stuff again; presumably, he flipped the switch and redirected the heat downstairs again. Tonight, regardless of the temperature, I'm gonna force the heat to go on, and see if we can feel more than a trickle in the downstairs bathroom. You know, the one that was supposed to relieve my bathroom from the kids' mess, but instead sits pretty much unused because of its frigid temps.

Apart from the heat, Mark finally got Francisco to come over and install the hot-water tap they had to uninstall before our inspection last year. Since then, I've grown semi-fond of our disposal-- Abby still doesn't trust it-- so I wanted both installed. Plumbers off of ServiceMagic quoted us more than $600 (or was it $800?) to do the job, but Mark had said $250 way back when. It went in this week... But not without $150 being added to the bill. Oh, and it's plugged into the same outlet as the disposal, which means we have to unplug the disposal until we want to use it, then remember to unplug it and flip the switch back on afterwards. Ahh, the joys of getting "everything you want" in a house you renovate, amirite?

Speaking of getting everything you want, we got to check out the Swiss Chalet (not the restaurant, sadly) the other night when Lee invited us over. That's right: an honest-to-goodness cocktail party on a Friday night! (The kids were also invited, and played great with his.). Best of all, it was the first night of actual warmth, which meant we went without jackets, and the doors (and windows, I think) were left open. (This at the end of a week that started with a snow day, no less.)

The Chalet now

The Chalet is amazing. For those of you who don't know, it's the house that interested us in the neighborhood in the first place, back in February 2011. But the work was just too extensive (and expensive) for us to handle. Lee, however, has handled it *very* well, and has it on the market now, in case anyone's looking for a place with a genuine wine grotto, beautiful modern finishes, and a super-cool master bedroom suite with cathedral ceilings. My silly-favorite part of the place actually is the door: it's a substantial wood entry door split in half, so you can open just the top if you like, when the weather warrants. You know, maybe set a pie on it to cool or something. Mmm, pie. I showed my parents around in there today during the open house, and they loved it-- although it's got too many stairs for them, which is understandable.  But in my estimation, it's a masterpiece.

The next month has a bunch of stuff coming, not the least of which will be the expected arrival of our state historical tax credit, which will make us feel momentarily rich-- that is, until we remember we already spent that money, and we need to put it back in the mortgage... And of course, I will be able to start outdoor stuff in earnest.  Sure, the deer ate all of my vegetation that didn't die on its own before winter set in, but that was just a test.  In the meantime, I'm planning out the greenspace around my house, and hoping I'll be able to do so in a nice, warm family room, without the need for a heavy blanket, and with the kids' ratty toothbrushes and gunked-up toothpaste tube messing up their own, newly warmed bathroom, and not mine!  (Hope springs eternal, right?)

A Wally World Christmas

Since it's the holiday season, when people usually focus on positives, I'll try something new on the blog: an entire post without complaints.  Here goes:

We pulled up to the house on Wednesday and people were working.  Drywall was being handed through Isaac's bedroom windows.  The front door was wide open, and fresh subflooring had been laid on the porch.  I marveled at how sturdy the porch felt, after having been forced to hopscotch across holes overlaid with old particleboard for so long.  I stood on the porch, waiting for the kids and Abby to round the house, and was happy with the progress I was seeing.  I mentioned the flooring to Isaac and he looked at me incredulously, as if to say "no, Dad, there were never holes in this floor."  Still, progress, satisfaction.  It was nice, because it's been a while since I had that feeling.

Then I went inside.

(This, for the casual reader's benefit, is usually the part of the story when things go dramatically downhill.)

Walls!

Not since the windows were painted several months ago have I been as excited to go through the house.  Guys were up on ladders mudding the drywall in the great room.  Walls had sprung up everywhere, and we had something we've only been planning for so long: Rooms!  I walked into my bedroom for the first time since it had been separated from the kitchen; it's not so bad!  Maybe I'm looking at it from the perspective of someone living in a 600-square-foot basement with three other people, but my 90-square-foot bedroom actually looks, well, if not spacious, then full of a lot more possibility than I had thought.  The closets are walled too, and with the borders finalized it looks like we might have an actual choice as to where our bed might go.

Downstairs, the family room is the big surprise: it's huge!  And bright!  We had been so worried walling it off would make it a long, narrow cave, shut out from all the light that streams in through the kids' rooms.  But no, it's immense!  And full of light!  And, get this: the light was not only coming from the windows, bur from light bulbs!  In the ceiling!  That were turned on!

The kids rooms are walled too, and although Isaac's room was filled with a mountain of garbage bags, it didn't matter.  Why?  Walls!  The laundry room?  Walls!  The guest room?  Well, too many walls! (They walled over a section that's supposed to have been left open for storage...)  The bathroom has no walls yet, but that's because they're waiting until the porch is finished, since not doing so would risk getting the new walls wet in a storm-- like the one that's happening right now.

Overall, a full 18.5 months into owning this place, I shouldn't be excited about walls, I know.  I should be living there, learning my new surroundings, getting used to my new commute on the Red Line, sitting next to my gigantic Xmas Tree and my fireplace and my dog.  (Okay, that last one is only in my dreams...)  But regardless of what's happening, I am excited about the walls.

And while I promised I wouldn't bitch during this post, well, okay, here's my attempt to continue not doing so.  We've been waiting for a timeline from our contractors for months.  Since we got back from London, actually.  And it's not that we've been meek and haven't wanted to ask more than once; we ask on at least a weekly basis, if not more frequently.  Well, this week we got our timeline.  It says all the work will be done on the house by the end of January, and the only things that will happen in February will be things like the final inspections and walk-throughs and stuff.  Makes sense.  So the timeline gets delivered to Patty at the mortgage company and she's not happy.  She pretty much turns around and says she needs a new timeline-- one that doesn't extend into February.  It's been a week now and I haven't heard a peep from our contractors, but what I know is that their idea is that we'll be in there within about six weeks, and our financiers want it to be sooner.  And the only way our contractors will get their money is if the financiers are happy.  So, that's all I'm saying.

(Patting myself on the back... I think that was a non-bitchy paragraph.  I think.)

So where we stand right now is about 90% drywalled, with electric and water hooked up and running.  Cabinets are ordered, appliances have already been delivered.  Still having communication issues with the contractor, but they've communicated to us that we'll be in in about six weeks.  Porch is half-done, rooms are decently-sized.  And to top it all off, the dining room chairs Abby wanted are actually comfortable, even though they're made entirely of metal.  (I didn't talk about those at all, but I will include a pic at the bottom for those who are interested.)

While we were at the house, I finally met Lee, the contractor working with not only the Windmill next door, but also the Pagoda and the Swiss Chalet.  He offered us a tour of the latter two houses, which we hadn't been in for almost two years.  For those of you who might not have known us back then. we actually responded to the real-estate ad for the Chalet back in February 2011, but since there was just too much work in that place for us to stomach (ha!), the agent showed us the Pagoda and the Bungalow since we were already there.  We were really intrigued by the Pagoda, but didn't want our kids to be "those kids who live in a pagoda."  Honestly, both of our families and most of our friends already think of us as the weirdos of the bunch, so that would've just added to our reputation.  Anyhow I jumped at the chance to look, and we weren't disappointed.  The Pagoda looks amazing: they've unearthed some original screens inside, and outdid our excavation by digging out an entirely new lower level.  Our biggest practical problem with the Pagoda was that it was only 1,400 square feet, but with the addition it's gonna be just about the same size as the Bungalow.  Moreover, Lee took a lot of the original local-quarry stones from the foundation during the excavation and re-placed them outside in spots where they look totally original to the design of the place.  Beautiful work, and made me very jealous, since I think most of our stones disappeared, despite my requesting that all of them stay put.  (But no bitching, so on to the next house.)  Across the yard, the Chalet's still well behind even our house, but the work inside is amazing.  The top floor has been converted from a hodgepodge of small, cramped rooms with slanted ceilings into a spacious master suite, complete with hidden storage compartments behind the HVAC system.  The ground floor has been developed so thoughtfully that the new flooring was laid underneath the walls, just in case any future owners wanted to reconfigure without worrying about replacing or matching up planks.  And a mysterious grotto underneath, which predates the house, is being converted into a wine cellar with a natural low temp and hi humidity.  Oh, and the incredibly expensive but gorgeous cedar shingles they put on the houses that we thought would cost about $40,000?  Yeah, Lee found a mill in Canada that made them and shipped them directly at wholesale, and he says they ended up costing about the same as the higher-quality shingles from Home Depot.  Seriously, I'd say I wish I had met Lee while we were considering contractors, but I am pretty sure we wouldn't have been able to afford him.  It's fantastic, however, to know our neighbors are going to have such awesome houses.  (Once again, we'll be the bad element in the neighborhood...)

But our house is our house, natural grotto or not, and our house is now walled; and in six weeks or so it should be Wahled as well.  (Insert laugh track here.)  While there are still a lot of issues that need to be worked out, I figure since it's Xmastime, I might as well think of the happier Bungalow-related thoughts now.  Once Santa's back at the North Pole, though, all gloves come off.



What we believe will be our new dining-room chairs;
three in copper and three in red lacquer. 
They're pretty cool, and are actually very comfy.
Very modern, but will offset the traditional style of
the dining-room table we inherited from my grandmother.



On the Cusp

The silver lining mentioned the other day has proven to exist, and, lo and behold, we are on the cusp of being able to begin work!  Montgomery County's Planning Department deemed our roof to be not of an historic nature, so even though we do have to deal with a two-week delay in having them consider our application, the roof no longer has to be part of the application at all.  In other words: we can just go to the permits office and get a permit to work on the roof, without any further ado from the County.  Huzzah!  I've submitted the specs for our shingles to Amy with MHT, who assured me the turnaround would be "faster than the full EC review," so our fingers are crossed that in the next few days Rory'll be able to start assembling the forces to tear the old roofing off. (Note to Tim, my contractor cousin: I made a mistake and we'll actually be reusing the same porch shingles that are on there now, but thanks for the heads up!)

I'm still miffed at the permits office, but their director did reply to my email saying she was looking into how the application fell between the cracks, and that's all I can really hope for.  Even if they had Rick Perryd the situation with an "oops," they wouldn't have been able to include us on the December 7 agenda, since Maryland Open Meetings Laws require one-week notice of all stuff like this, and the agenda had already been sent out to the local papers.  Oh well.  This might actually allow us to start the roof a bit earlier than we would have anyhow.  (I'm just hoping that the County's determination that the roof is not historic will not prevent them from reimbursing us when it comes time to show them our finished product.  My feeling is we're still fine on that.)

Isaac & my parents with Justice, by the Italian Villa

As an aside, I failed to mention the other day that another of our neighbors has begun construction on their home.  The Swiss Chalet-- the house that initially brought us to look at Forest Glen-- now has work humming along.  When I went by with my parents on Monday, we saw all the old windows had been removed, all the decrepit railings were gone, and I think there was even new siding, although I'm not sure.  Jealous they got a jump on us, but glad for them just the same.

Leo, Isaac, and Theo

My parents coming by was an interesting event.  We had one full day together post-Thanksgiving, so I was able to show them the place for the first time, Isaac in tow.  You could tell they were thinking "Gregory & Abby are (still?) nuts," but I think it was with more appreciation for our nuttiness than the last time around, when we bought our current house.  (I think the neighborhood maybe makes up for it?)  Don't worry, Mom & Dad, this place will be great when we are finished.  That said, the Beltway was louder than it ever was before, which was a bit annoying.  Sure, it was Monday rush hour, but I kept on glaring at the road as if to request it shut up for a few moments while my parents were here...  You might say that was futile, but remember, I am the king of anthropomorphism, so you never know.  Anyhow, I think they really enjoyed the grounds, and hopefully are giving us the benefit of the doubt on the house-- at least for now!

Great Room sans lions

It was also the first time I saw the house without the lions in it, which was cool, since I could walk around unimpeded in my own living room for the first time.  The lions are on their pedestals next to the house, with a sign noting they need to be repaired, and people shouldn't sit on them.  (You never saw the pics of my kids sitting on them.)  (Honest, Bonnie, that was before we knew they were made of zinc!)

The Earth Moves (and other things do too)

We haven't been out to the Bungalow since Tuesday's earthquake, but I'm guessing if the house completely collapsed we would've been contacted by now!  Funny thing is, after we got ourselves outside and onto the front sidewalk, the first thing I thought of was not "how is my son faring after this earthquake, seeing as today is his first day at school?"  No, rather, it was "I sure hope the Maryland Historical Trust Board Meeting didn't have to be canceled!"  On Wednesday morning I shot off a polite-as-can-be-yet-completely-ants-in-the-pantsy email to Amy at MHT, asking how Tuesday went.  Her response makes me tentatively hopeful:

We were actually in the middle of the Easement Committee meeting when the quake hit.  We did review your Application and the Committee will have recommendations/comments shortly.  I wanted to let you know that a site visit was requested by Easement Committee members so that they could see the house and be better informed when reviewing future Applications.  Renee and I will contact you (or Rory?) shortly to arraign a site visit for early September.

A shot of Leo (or is it Theo?) in our
Great Room, by Michael G. Stewart

The part I, as a hopeful applicant, picked out of that statement was the "recommendations/comments" part.  And the fact she didn't say "the Committee laughed in the face of your application, and your house fell down because of the earthquake."  I'm hoping you all see the same potential conditional acceptance reflected in this reply I did.



Besides the movement represented by MHT's partial answer, we also got a partial batch of pics back from Laurie and Michael, the two photographers who were in the Bungalow on Saturday.  (And I have to correct something I said earlier: Michael is not Laurie's assistant; he is a photographer in his own right, and found it amusing I referred to him as such.  Sorry, Michael!)  Anyhow, Michael sent me a few really cool pics he took of the place.  My favorite is of Theo (or is it Leo?) in front of our fireplace.  Check it out.



A shot looking up at the ceiling in the Dining Room
section of the Great Room, by Michael G. Stewart



Finally, there's some more possible movement on the neighborhood home-sales front.  According to local real-estate websites, the Swiss Chalet has been put under contract.  For those of you who may not know, the Swiss Chalet, which is located on the edge of the Seminary property right next to the Chinese Pagoda, is the house that initially drew us here.  We toured that house-- absolutely gorgeous, but in even more desperate need of help than the Bungalow-- first, then looked at the Pagoda next door.  It was only after that, when I was hooked on the former, and Abby was hooked on the latter, that Marc, the realtor showing the places to us, suggested we walk through the tunnel and see the Bungalow.  So, for better or worse, we owe our being here in the first place to the Swiss Chalet.  Danke schön!

The Swiss Chalet: the younger, more expensive, and
in-worse-shape "Alpine" version of the Bungalow