It's been some time since there was an update on our Maine adventure. Let's see ..
We have a builder. He's a really nice guy, and he and his carpenter are the son and son-in-law of family friends, which makes things both easy and challenging. We are quite sure they won't gouge us -- they are only doing the project as a great favor, not as a moneymaker. However, we could become the clients from hell, and our friends would almost certainly hear about it. I think that overall this is a good arrangement that benefits both parties and encourages each side to keep its collective mouth shut and behave. I certainly will.
We have a design. It replicates the exterior of great-great-grandmother's house pretty well. The interior will be modern, although the bits and pieces salvaged from the house will add some historical patina to the rooms. What's not to like about an 18th century door?
We have a builder. He's a really nice guy, and he and his carpenter are the son and son-in-law of family friends, which makes things both easy and challenging. We are quite sure they won't gouge us -- they are only doing the project as a great favor, not as a moneymaker. However, we could become the clients from hell, and our friends would almost certainly hear about it. I think that overall this is a good arrangement that benefits both parties and encourages each side to keep its collective mouth shut and behave. I certainly will.
We have a design. It replicates the exterior of great-great-grandmother's house pretty well. The interior will be modern, although the bits and pieces salvaged from the house will add some historical patina to the rooms. What's not to like about an 18th century door?
We have a view. It is remarkable. Campobello, Eastport and Lubec, as well as many small islands (one of which is ours), will all be visible from our deck. A deck is not an 18th century design feature, but my desire for 18th century authenticity only extends to the front facade. If my ancestors had had the view that we have, they would have built a deck, too.
We have a road (or will have soon). The drop dead date for road construction is the end of June. Our road builder is a laconic downeaster who is highly recommended and much beloved. However, he doesn't say much, except, Yes," "No," and "We'll see," so the proof will be in the road itself, if not the pudding.
Our road guy, and several of the other sub-contractors we have identified, are from the same village where great-great-grandmother's house once stood. Since we removed the house from the tax rolls by tearing it down, it seems only fair that we spread a little cash around to make amends.
We're going to have a big fire this summer. When the house came down, it turned out that many of the beams were not useable -- full of carpenter ants. They are just lying on the lot that we sold to the neighbors. So we are going to have a bonfire. We will get a burn permit from the village fire chief, who just happens to be the son of the road guy, get some beer and marshmallows, and invite the town.
Our road now has a name -- Lois Lane. I thought at first this was a joke, but no one seems to find it funny. Turns out that the owner of the only house on what is now Lois Lane was given the chance to name it, which he did. Apparently his mother's name was Lois.
We have a conditional building permit -- our application goes before the board of selectmen and the planning committee next week. It would be disappointing if our application were denied. However, it would be almost worth it, as the town clerk to whom we submitted our application not only spoke just like my grandmother, but had the same hairstyle, nearly 40 years later. Things change very slowly in eastern Maine.
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