Three Years In A Franklin Farmhouse

 

We've been here for three years now. I've been so busy I haven't taken any time to write here, but this morning, with the July sun shining, a cup of coffee at hand, and no work for a couple of hours, I'm going to take a moment to look back.

I love this house. I love it completely. It has a ton of things wrong with it, many we didn't know when we moved here. But I look out the window at the valley to the west, or the hills to the south and east, or I pull in the the driveway, and I fall in love all over again.

It took awhile to get established, even though it felt like home pretty quickly. We had to meet new contractors (who we needed right away) and I had a business to build. But three years later, it's not just home. We're part of a community.

But for those of you dreaming of this life, let's talk turkey about old houses.

Ours had prior owners who did a ton of work on it in the sixties. They did a lot of things right. They replaced two foundation walls and put in drainage. They put on a new roof. They built a big two story garage where a barn once stood. They built a drying barn to store the husband's car collection, and they ran power to it.

But they did a lot wrong, too. They put in an awkward main bathroom. They paneled every wall in the house and either dropped every ceiling or left dropped ceilings in place. We discovered they ran chains from the attic joists to the floor in one upstairs wall, instead of building a typical wall frame. They covered all the old pine floors upstairs with plywood and wall to wall carpeting. In an effort to deal with occasional water in the basement, they poured concrete and raised the floor. Only someone five feet tall can safely stand up there now. They removed attic stairs and added a pull down ladder that, terrifyingly, drops over the main stairs. And worst of all, when they sold, they split all the land up so what was once a farm is now a house on one acre.

The next owners were here five years and I'm guessing they made the half bath where the laundry room used to be. Or maybe not. But they sold as the roof was just starting to fail, one of the two septics (no one told us there were two!) failed, and the back foundation wall of the drying barn was collapsing. And the northwest wall was infested with carpenter ants.

Yes, we had a house inspection. No, he didn't catch most of that.

In the first year, we had to update a well system that was so antiquated that our eighty year old plumber said he hadn't seen one like it in years. We put a new roof on the house. We added a liner to a chimney that serves the woodstove. We got rid of the ants. We abandoned the old septic and tied into the newer one and kept our fingers crossed it hangs on.

In the second year, we pulled down the dropped ceilings in one room. That was fun. We pulled up the rug and plywood in the upstairs hall. That was fun, too. We got a generator. That was smart. And expensive.

In the third year, we remodeled the upstairs bathroom. It's not luxurious, but it's not awkward anymore. We're dealing with an ongoing water pressure issue and praying it's a gauge, not the well or the pump. The drying barn roof is failing, and it's going to have to be addressed this year. I'm dying to get all the plywood and rugs pulled out upstairs and eliminate a closet the prior owners put in the hall. I'd like to rearrange the rooms, too. But unless I DIY it, it's probably not happening this year. 

And the water in the basement is a problem. That's going to be a tough one to fix. Adding concrete wasn't a good answer, and not just because it stole valuable ceiling height. It's developing cracks and water is coming up through the floor in soaking rains. And we're having a lot of soaking rains.  The drain they added to one side helps. The sump pump is still working in the crawlspace (oh - we had that lined and insulated, too), but after a heavy rain I have to go into the basement and sweep water toward the drain.The answer, I fear, is breaking up that concrete and getting a gravel floor. That is going to be painfully expensive.

Why share all this? It's a dose of reality to balance the dream. Yes, I adore this place. Yes, it's wonderful and I'm glad we're here. But it's an old house and old houses need to be maintained. If you buy one that hasn't been kept up, it's going to be a lot of money to catch up. If it has been, you have to stay on it.

But our three ancient maples, Margaret, Rose, and Mary, are rustling in the breeze outside the window, the sun is streaming onto the front porch, and right now, at this moment, it's all worth it. That's the thought to hold on to.