Guest Room Re-Do

THIS COMING WEEK, I’M SLIPPING IN A RENOVATION PROJECT that wasn’t even on my priority list. The roofer remains elusive, and I can’t do the parking court until he’s done. I can’t do the deck/outdoor shower until April at least, because the area beneath which I plan to put the 400-square-foot deck is filled with ferns that were the most satisfying part of the landscape when I got here last May, as well as 75 daffodil bulbs, chelone (turtlehead), and astilbes. (I’ll move all that elsewhere, but can’t do it until the ground is good and unfrozen.)

Like a shark, I’ve got to keep moving forward or else I’ll die. Or so it feels. So on Tuesday, a contractor is coming to fix up the 2nd bedroom, or guest room, in my East Hampton cottage. He’ll install a new window I happen to have in the basement, above (custom-made for another house and never used), along the longer wall, which I expect will make the 7-foot-wide room feel much more pleasant. He’ll remove cruddy molding, a damaged ceiling from a long-ago roof leak, and replace the old, wallpapered-over sheetrock and baseboard.

It will also make the house look a whole lot more interesting from the outside.

I’m kind of dreading the whole operation, to tell ya the truth. It’ll last most of the week. It’s been very cold here, and the exterior wall in that room will be open for at least a few hours. And then there’s the dust. But hopefully the satisfaction of accomplishment will trump the inconvenience.

And now the roofer is saying he may also come this week. Chaos!

Home

BACK FROM SPAIN, shaking off jet lag, dealing with a balky Internet connection, and trying to readjust to a cedar-shingled cottage in the woods after a week spent among Moorish palaces and orange trees on the plains of Andalusia, which is considerably more exciting. I was planning to hike this morning in Montauk with the East Hampton Trail Preservation Society, which has a tempting schedule of free 3-10 mile hikes every Wednesday and Saturday morning, exploring every inch of woods and wetland around here, but waking up to snow on the ground put me off that idea.

I came home from Spain to find all in good order. My house, which I left at 55 degrees, warmed up quickly, and the shrubs were not deer-ravaged in my absence.

Now my thoughts are turning to what’s next around here. I got a good estimate from a carpenter to install a new window in the 2nd bedroom. About 7′ wide and 12′ long, with two small windows, it’s kind of like a monk’s cell. I have, believe it or not, just the right window to make that room special. I had it custom made years ago for the house upstate, but never used it, and it’s now sitting in my cellar here in East Hampton. So that’s added to the list. The same fellow will also install three new solid-wood panel doors to replace the hollow core and plastic ones leading to the bedrooms and bath.

I’m still waiting on the roofer to schedule me, and he says I shouldn’t do the parking court until he’s finished. But it’s all moving forward, bit by slow bit. Come June, I should have a house that is not only more livable, but rentable.

What really makes me happy is the thought that in a few weeks I’ll be gardening again. Meanwhile, I’ve got a stack of new garden and design books from the Amagansett Library, as well as Washington Irving’s Tales of the Alhambra. Last night I was poring over Monet’s House: An Impressionist Interior, taking in the sunflower yellow dining room and red-and-white checkered floors, and reading about his unconventional life.

 

Inspirational images for the brain’s blender.

City Slicker’s Adventures in Cottage Living

…in which she can’t get a reasonable quote to install her fireplace and sees wild turkeys in her backyard.

Photo: Wikipedia

TIME FOR A LITTLE RE-CAP, I think, of home-improvement progress or lack thereof.

First, my ongoing fireplace dilemma. The Malm stands in a corner of the living room in silent reproach. I have failed to find a fireplace company, roofer, contractor, mason, carpenter, or handyman willing to hook it up for less than $3,000. And just when I thought three grand was bad, I got another quote for $4,700. “What’s the big deal?” say people who don’t do that type of work. Apparently it is. A biggish deal, coupled with Hamptons rip-off (this is not the slow season for fireplaces).

It’s not that I actively miss having a fireplace. My house, happily, is tight as a drum. All the windows have storms, and there must be insulation, because the boiler is not gulping oil as rapidly as I feared. It’s warm and cozy here, and a candle or two on a winter’s night is about all the fire I need.

For now, I’ve decided to keep the Malm (even though Design Within Reach said they would take it back), and put it either on the porch or in the cellar for another season or another house. I got it on sale (about $1,300) and it was paid for months ago, so that’s forgotten. But to lay out another few grand now, when I also need a roof, a driveway, a deck, an outdoor shower, and a new bathroom (in that order), is not an appealing prospect.

The Malm can also be used outdoors next spring and summer, on my future deck, without having to hook it up, which will be fun. So the Malm stays in the picture.

My new roof, originally scheduled for December, has been twice delayed. First, by my deciding I wanted to look into a standing-seam metal roof in lieu of the typical asphalt shingle. I found a metal roof guy, looked at his work, got a quote. It wasn’t horribly more than what I’m spending for the shingle, but ultimately I decided against it, because, as cool as it looks, the roof pitch here is not so steep that it would really be seen much — though the fact that it is greener than the petroleum-based, artificially colored Timberline shingles was a consideration. Then there was a major snowfall, and now I’m going to Spain. So the roof is delayed again till early February, giving me more time to decide between Mission Brown and Weathered Wood. Meanwhile, there’s been nary a leak from melting snow, but the roof is 30 years old and looks like crap, and I’ve already given the roofer a 50% deposit, so it’s going to happen.

I’ve got a 30’x30′ parking court going in at the front of the property, edged with railroad ties and covered in 3/4″ chunks of natural-colored stone, also in early February. That will be an improvement over parking in the mud or on the street.

Indoors, not much is new since my daughter and I painted in October. I’m happy with my living room decor, such as it is, and things like Crate & Barrel dish towels hung as art on the wall of the dining area give me inordinate pleasure.

So the winter is proceeding. My next-door neighbor, whom I see every few weekends, said, “Oh, so you made it!” (meaning through the two snowstorms, I suppose). “Easily!” I replied cheerily, the vulnerable feeling of driving a Honda Fit through deep snow behind me for the moment.

Yesterday, in the late afternoon, I came back from errands in town to find a dozen wild turkeys hanging out in my backyard. That never happened in Brooklyn. Of course, by the time I got my camera, they had dispersed into the woods. But it reminded me, powerfully, that I’m living in the country. And I like it.

A Loose Schedule and a Tight Budget

Above: Eric Ernst, Tree Man of Montauk, thinning out my overgrown forest so I stand a chance of growing something other than ferns

I’M ALL OVER THE PLACE HERE. I still have so much to do pull this house and garden together, I’ve hit another impasse of indecision. So I’m planting daffodils. (Though everywhere I dig, I hit inch-thick wisteria vine, and spend more time pulling and cutting wisteria than digging holes for the bulbs.)

I’ve accomplished a lot in the four months since I bought this cottage in May. But I have so much further to go. Not knowing whether this is a long-term home or a flipper makes it that much harder to proceed. If I knew for sure it was the former, I would take my time and spend more freely. But if it’s going to be a flipper, I just want to get it done.

Perhaps I should buy the Zen mindset my friend is trying to sell me. “You’re here now,” she says. “When you decide you don’t want to be here anymore, you’ll go somewhere else.” Yeah, but how exactly do I proceed with my renovation on that basis?

This I know: as soon as possible, I’d like to feel “Oh, how charming” pulling into my driveway, instead of “Eeewwww. Ugh.” That driveway — broken asphalt studded with weeds — is part of the problem. As is the house itself, with its discolored cedar shingles. And a front yard more brown than green. What’s the opposite of curb appeal?

The deer fence and patio have fallen off the top of my priorities list. I’m thinking of letting the deer have one last winter of ravaging the evergreens and rhododendrons, and spending that money indoors instead, on a fireplace, new bathroom, new kitchen counter, and a paint job. I also need a whole new roof. I’m gathering quotes from tradespeople: two roofers so far, two bathroom contractors, and a housepainter.

In the meantime, I’ve been canvassing the nurseries for shrubs on sale. I’ve fallen for a viburnum tomentosa plicata, or doublefile viburnum, above, eight feet across and flaming red, at Spielberg’s in Amagansett (the picture shows it in spring). At 40% off, it’s under $100, plus another $100 to plant (it’s very heavy). Deer don’t like it, but it needs a good sunny spot, and those are still in short supply on my lot. I also want a river birch somewhere; I love the peeling bark and delicate leaves. And dogwoods.

The truth is, I’m not in that much of a rush. I keep reminding myself that this is not a HGTV project done in a weekend. It’s real life, on a loose schedule and a tight budget.