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!