Out With The Old In With The New Part 2

The day dawned with a loud bang on the door downstairs. After my long journey of little sleep the day and night before, I had collapsed upstairs in a heap on the queen sized mattress that was ever so carefully balanced on the double bed frame. On my way down the staircase I noticed that the queen box spring was leaning non chalantly against the wall of what used to be the dining room. The incessant knocking meant that I would have to wait to solve the puzzle of the bed and frame and move onto what was happening outside.

I opened the door to find a delivery man who was very intent in bringing in the new refrigerator I had ordered...NOW. He appeared fairly agitated so I tried my best Alberta girl charm in an effort to calm him down. It did not work very well. He wanted to get this behemoth in the door and be gone. I noticed that he had a small white truck which somehow held the rather large white fridge. He quickly jumped into the front seat, cranked it into reverse and tried to maneouvre the rear end towards my rickety stairs. In his rush he hit the gas instead of the brake and almost took the whole staircase right off! Things were pretty much going off the rails. I looked at what used to be my front porch and didn't really know what to say other than that we should maybe try the dolly. He let out a heavy sigh as we moved the hulking beast onto what was left of the porch and squeezed it through the entry way. I, was by now getting pretty worked up myself as this whole situation was going to cost me more than the price of a new refrigerator! When he turned to leave - leaving the hulking refrigerator on the porch step - I firmly suggested that he needed to stay and help me drag it into place in the dining room.

Dragging it across the lino in the kitchen was a reasonable exercise - but by the time we hit the dining room - the wheels got all tangled up in the stringy bits of the indoor outdoor 1960s yellow and orange smelly mess that was the carpet. I gave up the fight and sent him out the door, then sat in the kitchen contemplating my fate. I had the ruins of a rickety staircase barely hanging onto the front of the chateau, I had a large refrigerator stuck in the middle of what used to be a dining room and I had a box spring plastered against the wall that I coudn't get up the stairs to the master bedroom. And it wasn't even noon yet!

I didn't even have time to feel sorry for myself as suddenly there was another knock at the door. Someone named Bruce who had come to take away my old furnace. He also had a truck...

Out With The Old In With The New Part 1

May turned into June turned into July before I was able to return to my beloved "Chateau", however time was not wasted while I was 3000 miles away. I was on my own now as the Chateau had failed to impress my husband on the maiden voyage. In many ways I was just as happy to be left to my own devices. This was to be my undertaking, my space, my house. I took great solace in the peace I thought I would find amongst the hills and waves of my new surroundings. I was still so very tender from the events of the year before and needed a place to grieve and shed my tears in privacy. I needed a distraction and I needed to feel that I was building - or rather - re - building something. Instinctively I knew this would be a cathartic process. I had no idea then that it would become a long term, passionate love affair.

So I took mental stock of all that was missing or broken and began to make my list. Sears online and I did a robust business. A new couch and chair were in order as was a new refrigerator. Before I headed east again I arranged with Frank (a local) to come out and install a new furnace, water heater and pump. I called the lovely, ever patient Mary at the Sears depot in Parrsboro and arranged for delivery of my items. Someone would meet me at the Chateau with all my gooides the day after I returned.

Yet again I eagerly boarded the red eye to Halifax. The car rental people began to know me by name and vehicle as I happily wobbled off the 6:30AM flight. I had by now fallen into a routine. Wait half an hour for luggage (you'd think it would be faster that early in the morning!), cruise past the car rental counter - chit chat with the guy or gal there. They always asked me if I knew where I was going. I always replied yes, though after no sleep on some flights (when the Maritime boys came back from Fort Mac and were a bit too loud for me to drown out with headsets) I wasn't as sure. I always got a 4 door with lots of room for luggage as I was hauling all kinds of gems from the homefront in Alberta. Extra dishes and pictures and knick knacks. Things belonging to my mother that would have a new life out east. New bedding. New tablecloths. A maritime flavoured wreath from Winners (why I thought they wouldn't have a shell wreath in Nova Scotia escapes me!) I was nesting!! Off I would go - stop at the Timmy's for coffee (double double) and an apple fritter and down the highway I would drive. I'd get the Halifax Chronicle to read once I got "home" and either drove along in blissful silence - breathing in the moist morning air - or I'd crank up the CD and sing along at the top of my lungs. All to celebrate the joy I felt at being in this place.

I didn't care that the furnace didn't work. I didn't care that there was no water. I was free to be with my thoughts and to do what I needed to do in order to get past these untimely partings. Many conversations were had with both my friend Gerri and with my mother on these drives to my reprieve. I would drive up the hill and stop in front of the by now, very wiggly stairs. Turn the key in the lock and...I was home.

A Less Than Spectacular Review

No water - the culprit was a broken ancient water pump - no heat - and wandering into the former dining room it was discovered that the previously working refrigerator had decided to spew all its cooling fluid down the back of the wall. I could have cried!

However, putting on a brave face I called my realtor - well... I tried to call my realtor. Of course part of the charm of the Chateau that I had been crowing to everyone about was that it had no phone, no fax, no internet. Which is a good thing - unless you want to make a phone call. I tried calling from the porch, I ran upstairs and stuck my head out the bedroom window. I ran across the hall and stuck my head out another window. All to no avail. There was indeed no cell service at the Chateau. Drove down to the beach and finally reached Betty Ann who was sympathetic but reminded me that it was a long weekend. Unlike Alberta, folks in Nova Scotia had the good sense not to work long weekends - or Sundays for that matter! It's part of why I loved the place. Right now however I was wishing that someone would show just a little initiative and be a keener.

Tried the contractor who came out to inspect the place, tried a plumber who was recommended - no answer. (Smart man!) Tried an electrician. Tried every person she gave me. No one was home. Deflated I sank into one of the vinyl recliners in the livingroom. My husband gingerly placed himself in the one on the other side of the room, wiping his hands and the chair with a wet ones. Things were not going well.

Undaunted I said, "well let's at least get the mattresses upstairs". Yes, the mattresses had in fact arrived and were completely (to my delight) covered in plastic. We hauled the top mattress up the staircase and deposited it near the master bedroom door. Down the stairs I ran to retrieve the box spring. Up the stairs and I was pulling furiously. I yanked and tugged and gripped, confused as to why things were not moving. My husband urged me to pull harder and he shoved from below with all his might. After about ten minutes of trying every angle to ensure the most clever trick possible, we were once more defeated by this, my most lovely love. This old house clearly had her tricks. A quick measurement of the mattress and then of the opening up to the top floor gave us the sorry news. The box spring was 2 inches too big for the opening. The only way to get it through was to tear open the ceiling. To me this was not even a remote option.

Nothing left to do but go to the beach. Heavy sigh. No one had mentioned the black flies.....

Things Are Not Always As They Seem

As soon as I returned home that February, I was almost immediately pining to be back out at the Chateau. They say that love is blind and as I showed my husband pictures of my new love, I could tell that he felt I needed stronger glasses. What is there not to love about a place that is screaming for tender touches and gentle fix ups? (I felt the same way I think!)

My hands were itchy just thinking about the blue and green carpet that was begging to be ripped up. The kitchen screamed kitsch and the brown panelling was pleading for someone to put it out of its misery.







As for the bathroom...well...let's just say that I was happy that the toilet worked! While I could barely wait to get back to the Chateau and get my hands dirty, work dictated that it would be a few months before my return. I settled in for a long period of yearning.



Finally it was the May long weekend as I winged my way back to Nova Scotia, husband in tow. I couldn't wait to show him the great deal I had gotten! Prior to leaving home there was only one request from said husband. A new bed had to be in place by the time we arrived. Douglas was not going to be sleeping in someone else's bed. Especially an old someone elses bed. Eeeeeeeew! This was my first test. Sears online became my new best friend. As did Mary at the Sears depot in Parrsboro who took my countless calls to make sure that the mattresses would be delivered to the Chateau just before we arrived. I checked the weather daily and surely exhausted her patience about ensuring the plastic was around the mattresses in case of rain. (I am nothing if not a detail freak!)



We arrived and I was like that little dog on Bugs Bunny trying to convince the bigger one to play. I was bouncing around so excited, ready to show my pal my new bone. Ready to play, ready to take a walk, ready to wrestle. My pal however had jet lag from the overnight flight and was not quite as enthused as I. Then I became nervous. As nervous as a sixteen year old girl taking a boy home to meet the parents. I was so keyed up about this house and this place that I couldn't stand the thought of it being a disappointment to someone else.



Again the view seduced me on the journey and I relaxed as I heard murmers of appreciation from beside me. Then silence ruled as we pulled up to the leaning, weather beaten front steps. I forgot about those...

I ran ahead and opened the door - it was cold inside and had a musty smell of damp fabric softener. I ran ahead to the livingroom and turned on the furnace. Nothing happened. Doug piled the bags of groceries onto the floor in the kitchen and turned on the tap to wash his hands. Nothing happened. Okay - this was not good.

Signed Sealed Delivered

Signed Sealed Delivered

I’m Yours!

I found my dream cabin late on a cold wintry Alberta day in January. I had been combing the websites and came upon Betty Ann’s real estate page. There was a house – clearly in need of some love – in a place called Spencer’s Island. Spencer's Island was about a half hour away from Parrsboro on the Glooscap Trail that wound its way along the beautiful coast. The house was a mere five minute walk from the Bay of Fundy. It was a very small community and I would have 2 - 3 acres to call my own. What really got my attention was the fact that it was being sold with all the furniture and everything else in it! OMG! My mind was racing! A flurry of emails ensued – I now had floor plans – it had 3 bedrooms upstairs, a living room, a kitchen, a pantry and a bathroom (thank god!). It had electricity that worked (very important detail), a partially new roof and was heated with a furnace and/or a wood stove. I also had some pictures. The best part was the price. It was more than I had planned but I was determined to do some bargaining. Deep inside I felt that this place was meant for me. I called Betty Ann and made my offer.

Later that evening I received an email that said the offer was REJECTED. I was completely deflated. My hopes were dashed and I trundled off to bed in a sorry state. The next morning I crawled downstairs early and opened my email. I let out a WHOOP when I found the one saying that if I could come up in price a bit the family would consider another offer. My husband thought that I had hurt myself with all the shrieking that was going on. I did the math, considered all sources of income (savings and bank of Dad) and proceeded to email in my final offer. This offer was everything I had and could afford in the world. It was so very important to me to have this place - Doug thought I had lost my mind - but I just knew this was meant to be. I hit send.

Within the hour I had a message that said: Offer ACCEPTED!!! Hooray!

Now I needed to fly out and inspect the place in person. And in a sign of things to come, I needed to find local folks who could help me. Luckily I had built one house and supervised another so knew a header from a footer, but this house was built in 1948 - who knew what I would find! I was already in a state when I landed from an overnight flight and with google map in hand I headed north to Truro and then did a quick dosee do towards Mass Town Market, hung a right and then a left and was finally heading west on the Glooscap trail. Once more my heart was captured by the scenery. I wanted desperately to stop and take it all in but I was more desperately wanting to get to Betty Ann. At last I spotted the Timmy's and found Betty Ann waiting for me. We drove on chatting amicably - I of course had a thousand questions. We turned left headed for Diligent River, Fox River and Port Greville. I could barely stand it! The roads wrapped themselves around the hills and bobbed up and down on our way to Spencer's Island. The Bay played hide and seek and it was a new thrill every time we rounded a bend. Absolutely breathtaking. Suddenly, there was the actual Spencer's Island across from the village. I let out a long sigh. This truly felt like a homecoming.. My almost new home was tucked away on a hill away from the rest of the community. That suited me just fine. I wanted a place to be alone with my thoughts and dreams with few chances of interruption. There was no phone, no fax, no internet. What a welcome relief from the world in which I worked where I was constantly tied to a phone and people who needed my services. After the past few months what I really needed was space. Space to sit and simply be. I could feel the tension slipping away - replaced immediately with the excitement of actually seeing this house I had been dreaming of.

The fellow who came with us to inspect the place was already there when we arrived. Frankly short of finding a dead goat in the middle of the livingroom, I was in. Signed, sealed, delivered. The outside definitely needed some work - the paint was peeling, the steps up to the house were rickety - but I was told no one had done too much to this place in years. Still I was charmed.

Inside there was a lingering smell of fabric softener, the source of which were scraps of softener sheets hung about the windows (I later learned it kept away mice!) It was a musty, dusty old house smell. The heat was blasting out of the furnace and I inspected the taps to make sure the water was coming through. Down some very tiny steps to the basement which was damp (I'm told they're all damp in that part of the world) A single hanging lamp showed us the fuse box and the rough hewn floor joists. These were hand sawn and I recognized how sturdy and well built the house was. The foundation wasn't perfect but was in good shape. No big holes or leaks or cracks. Up the stairs we went. (Inside I was jumping for joy!) The living room was filled to the brim with all sorts of ceramic critters and bird hangings and flowerful displays. These all spoke to me and confirned that I was meant to be here. I loved birds - though maybe not quite the ones I found through out. And I loved ceramic things - though maybe not quite this kind and flowers - well I preferred real - but I took all these things as a sign from God. This stirred my creative soul. I looked around at all these rooms and all this stuff and a thousand ideas rolled through my mind. I was already painting and wallpapering and ripping out smelly carpets. I ran from room to room eagerly taking it all in. Every single home decor magazine I had ever looked at came rushing back to me. I felt such a surge of creativity and such a sense of place. This would be my home away from home. This would be my retreat, a place to heal my heart, to sort out my relationship with my mother, my world and myself.

I was already planting flowers in my head as I agreed to sign the final papers. For the price of a mid sized car, the deed was done. I had sent a friend pictures of this place and she dubbed it "The Chateau". And so it is. It is my "Chateau" to do with what I like, indeed.

Let the reno begin!

Beginnings

Life At The “Chateau”

Think “A year in provence” meets “under the tuscan sun”…in Canada

We have all had that desire to transform “nothing” into “something”. To make that “silk purse” out of a “sow’s ear”. I actually took the plunge and followed my heart and wallet to cover faux wood paneling, purge bad plumbing and scrape nasty paint off outside walls. All for the love of a dream cabin by the Bay of Fundy. I wanted to take charge and fix this “chateau” since at the time I seemed to be unable to fix bigger projects in my life. Little did I know what I was in for.

It all began 5 years ago when my mother passed away. It was a difficult passing. My dad was in his mid seventies and could not cope, so things were left for the most part to me. November 1^st we had toasted to the news that her breast cancer was gone. By the end of March it had returned with a vengeance – we were all shocked and wandered through the next months in disbelief as the disease progressed. I read everything I could on breast cancer and bone cancer and brain cancer – any kind of cancer in case I might be able to find something all the doctors couldn’t. The Friday night before she passed found me on the phone sobbing, begging the doctor to make it all end. Of course that could not be done. Mercifully at 5AM on Sunday morning it was over.

One of my good friends had also recently passed away only a few months earlier. I had little time to grieve her as shortly after she died we had the diagnosis that my mom was terminal. Now that they were both gone, I did the only thing that I knew how to. I threw myself into my work, trying to run from the pain of knowing that I had been unable to save either woman with my advocacy, intelligence or sheer will. It was a dark and lonely time.

What saved me was my work on the east coast. I had been coming to Halifax and other parts of Nova Scotia for years on various projects. There is something about that coastline that soothes me like no other. The waves speak to my soul. I love the rough terrain and the winds that blow. There is something wild and untamed about it all. I feel at the mercy of what nature has in store - and I like it!

I was working with a crew on a documentary series. They kept asking me if I was going to buy some land since I was out there so often. I had frankly never thought about it. They kept telling me there was still land to be had for cheap. You just had to look for it. My husband and I had been talking for a long time about finding a place by the ocean but I think he was more interested in the West coast. We looked there once but the prices were way out of our price range.

Shortly after my mom's death one of our crew asked if I wanted to head up to the north part of the Bay of Fundy to see a play at Ships Company Theatre. It was a 2 1/2 hour drive but he assured me it would be through beautiful countryside. I agreed. We drove past towns with the most unusual names I had ever hear - Mosquodobit - Stewiacke - that one still makes me laugh out loud - there was Upper and Lower Economy and of course Economy mountain. Well...being from Alberta I roared as we drove up and down the "mountain". The name Economy was a good fit. I asked to stop again and again as my cares left me and I became enthralled by the scenery. The Bay was calling me and we pulled over many times so that I could run along the red earth revealed by the ebbing tide. Everything was new and fresh to my eyes and to my heart. For the first time in many months I felt at peace - out there in the middle of nowhere.

The town of Parrsboro reminded me of a small town in New England that I really liked. Quaint victorian homes, big trees, friendly people. And in the middle of seemingly nowhere - there was a theatre. Ship's Company - built around the Kipawo - the play that night was Brighter Than The Light of the Sun. It blew me away. The actors and staging were terrific. I was expecting to be polite and say how lovely it all was yet inside I was thinking it would be marginal at best. There are many things about Nova Scotia that would continue to surprise me. The part of the day that won me over completely though was the time on the beach in front of Ottawa House. The mists were rolling in and I sat on that beach and breathed in the air. Time stood still and in that moment I fell in love. Something inside me knew I had to be there, by that bay breathing that air and rolling with the tides.

I began to look on the web for real estate in that area. There was lots to choose from and it was cheap! I could have bought a trailer with an acre of land for $15,000! Oh my - I was hooked! My husband thought I was off my nut but I was a dog with a bone. Late one January day I found it. The house of my dreams.