4.28.26 | Fixer Upper

This old shed.

Matt and I moved to Lexington at the end of October 2013 to work at the Red Hen. The story of how this came about is a good one, but we will save that for another time.  

Six months after moving to Lexington, we decided to buy a fixer upper and get married. We closed on our house in May and got married in July. At the time, we weren't owners of the restaurant, so we had time to do these sorts of things.  

I have a construction/carpentry background so renovating the house seemed like such a great project that we would tackle on the weekends. I was thrilled!

It turns out that my plans for renovations were way over-glamorized in my head. Things have taken so much longer than expected. Twelve years later, the list of projects doesn't seem to have gotten any smaller. I'm sure it's a story you have heard before.  

In my leisure time, I like to watch renovation shows. I grew up watching "This Old House.” Even though none of the shows since then have quite measured up, I watch them nonetheless. Without a doubt, the timeline and ease of the process are glossed over to the point of ridiculousness. I know this, and yet I feel like it has warped my brain with the standard "I want it now" sensibility. When you renovate without hiring contractors, things take a long time. Especially if you work 60-70 hours a week like Matt and I do.   

So there is a huge chasm between reality and fantasy.  

In order to keep going. I have to remind myself of the things that Matt and I have accomplished:  

New flooring (although the thresholds still aren't complete)

All new appliances

New kitchen cabinets 

Installed a whole house fan

Tore down old shed and built a new shed

New workshop (still in progress)

New windows (old ones installed in workshop)

It’s interesting to note as I write this that I don't actually want the projects to ever end. Is that why I am so good at starting them but not finishing them? It would be so unnerving to me to live in a home that was perfect and complete. It’s good to remind myself of that. I grew up in homes that were always in flux. Mom and Dad had full time jobs, but there were always projects in progress. It was the way of life.

I've been reading lately about the coming migration of birds and starting to really worry about the windows that we installed. Last year a Tufted Titmouse was injured by slamming into one of our windows. I would rather that not happen ever again. Now I’m angry at myself for installing casement windows. Casement windows swing outward, so there isn't an exterior screen that protects the birds. Casements are known for their superior energy efficiency, which is the main reason I chose them. In home renovation shows, the big reveal almost always includes a huge picture window looking out on the landscape. Watching that now makes me angry rather than happy or jealous like it used to. What about the birds?!? I think. Are the architects and homeowners considering this? I'm left disappointed that we’re stuck choosing between efficiency and helping save the birds.

But maybe it doesn’t have to be a choice? This year I’ve decided to buy a product that can be installed directly onto the exterior of the glass that protects the birds. It's a pretty simple process and it doesn't impede the view much more than the screens do. I’m looking forward to seeing how well it works.

It’s funny to note that in completing the window install project, I created yet another project. Win-win!

—Becca

(P.S. From Matt: "After reading Becca's essay, I have to say I think it’s quite humorous how generous she was with the word we in reference to the projects tackled on the house.”