Our old house was very old. It was a classic New England cottage from 1900 or before. The frame was hand hewed post and beam. It was irreplaceable. I knew that trying to build the old house again would not work. Even if it were the same shape, it would be a shiny new mcmansion mocking the weathered imperfect history that stood before.
If we could not have the old house back I wanted something new. Something completely new. Something the was ours, that represented Veronica and I. We are influenced by many things, but we are our own people. I wanted our uniqueness in our new home, worldly influences but not definitions.
My first drawings were made with no regard for gravity, efficiency, physics, or cost. They were just ideas. I knew in time those ideas would merge with practical restrictions. But I began with ideals. Veronica had only four requests, and I included them: A long porch, a hobbit hole door, our own bathroom, and a spire.
I knew Tyrone would tell me somewhere, “This part can’t be done.” But he didn’t.
I have bit off more than I can chew, we dove instead of wading, and I definitely put the cart before the horse. There are easier ways to do things. But I’m not sure easy is my style.
My style is something more like this…