Parting Shots

 

 

Hard to believe it now, but it was all over by the first week of June 2023

 

It was pretty much inevitable, given our situation: age finds all of us over time, presenting novel challenges that make work that once was easy to do suddenly arduous to complete. The process of aging is all about encountering this effect: what one once took for granted, or at least found not so hard to do, gradually becomes more and more difficult. Some of us look farther down that particular road and see it complicating life to the point where it becomes something entirely different from what it once was. I'm one of the lucky ones who, while not yet at the point of being unable to do the work, could foresee a time when that eventuality comes about. So that was a major factor in our decision to sell.

All maintenance holidays eventually end: Vern Krahn restoring barge boards

There's also the financial reality of inhabiting a heritage structure today: they require ongoing investment in order to remain viable. There are always services that need upgrading, issues around sourcing things like compatible storm windows that will help keep the house warm in winter, ongoing necessary rehabilitation of degraded wooden components (see the picture above) and replacement of wooden pieces as they wear out, like the cedar shingle roof (maybe six to eight years left, if the right things are done to prolong its life). None of this is simple, all of it requires discretionary money to purchase skills, and in retirement, on a fixed income, money is in short supply for many. There is also management of the processes needed to renew the building (the individual contractor doesn't actually do this work, or at least you don't really want him to be the one doing it, so you yourself have to serve as general contractor on the job - which is demanding and entails understanding it fully). Also, at our place, there were long-deferred plans to develop an unfinished storage attic into habitable space, which involved a staircase, a complicated landing with a dormer facilitating it, and a long west-facing dormer that would enable us to access as much as 800 square feet of new space (including a much-needed second washroom off a new master bedroom). We had been evolving plans to realize this dream when our life suddenly complicated with the inheritance of a Pender Island property that also needed major investment. We weren't wealthy enough to do both projects, so we opted to invest in remaking the Pender property. We don't regret that decision, but it turned out to be consequential for the bungalow on Grange Road.

 

Re-roofing the house with perfection cedar shingles, back in 1998

 

These two realities (a lot of work suddenly coming coming due, and insufficient funds to bring it all off) eventually converged in retirement, making sale and a move more or less inevitable. We saw the move coming a couple of years back, yet wanted to keep going for the time being so we could enjoy a place we had put so much of ourselves into. This post covers the things we managed to tackle over the last two years, prior to actually putting the bungalow on the market - things that, in retrospect, we are proud to have seen done on behalf of a most deserving house.

 

 

Facade renewed in time for the 2013 centennial

 

A recurring theme these days is just how much actually needs doing on an older house, a dynamic that has intensified as I've aged (perhaps the reality is that aging itself magnifies this effect). You simply have to stay with it in order to remain contemporary: no maintenance holiday lasts forever, and many such holidays inevitably come to a close on your watch, especially if you've dwelt there for a while. It was thus not surprising when one of the very first actions I initiated at the beginning of my tenancy on Grange - replacement of the wooden gutters on the rear of the house, including replacing several missing downspouts - now evidently needed further attention. The gutters were done in 1989, one year into owning the place.  I managed to source old-growth cedar guttering to replace the originals (milled to an authentic profile by Vintage Woodworks in Victoria) but I naively employed a carpenter who, while technically qualified, turned out to lack experience in the handling of wooden gutters. In fact, I'm almost certain this was his first job on an Arts and Crafts house of any kind, and while he didn't do a terrible job, he missed several obvious things, like replacing fascia boards on the south-west section, which had issues as the rot from the existing spent gutters reached back into them. 

 

Scene of the crime: restored wooden gutters en route to premature demise

 

Instead of informing me that the fascia needed replacing, this fellow found just enough viable wood to pin the new gutters to. He also didn't know enough to use pitch (or even a modern copper-based preservative, inset photo at right) to condition the new gutters, a step that dramatically increases longevity. As a result, the replacement gutters were already rotting out thirty-three years after their installation (the original pitch-treated cedar gutters lasted nearly seventy-five years)!

So if they had needed replacing in 1988, the fascia boards had only deteriorated even further by now. That meant a lot of hard decisions to be made in short order. Pivoting from the purity of my initial choice to stay with wood (wiser, with hindsight) I had metal gutters in a compatible profile installed in preference, with larger (and thus fewer) downspouts needed. There were numerous advantages to going this route: the metal gutters are wider and deeper than the wooden ones were, making it easier to clear out the build-up of oak leaves and debris in fall (especially given the cedar roof's drip ledge, which makes it difficult to extricate leaves from narrow wooden gutters). Plus, the larger downspouts don't block up as readily as the narrow ones, which plugged every year with the onset of fall rains, with predictable consequences. So these are big advantages in drainage, and I was very pleased with the results.

 

 

 

Rotted fascia boards that should have been replaced in 1989, but weren't

 

Metal gutters, fascia and downspouts replaced

I think it would be fair to say that it got much more difficult to get anything done to heritage standards with the advent of the 2020 pandemic: costs rose dramatically, while booking times became markedly longer, as pandemic conditions combined negatively with the ongoing process of skilled artisans retiring or passing away. People were also more focused on their home patch, so demand was high and skilled carpenters were extremely busy. These dynamics complicated everything to do with renewal, including things as small and seemingly straightforward as re-cording a double-hung sash window. This is a job that periodically needs doing in a house with double-hung windows, and sooner rather than later if the occupants happen to have painted over the sash cords at some point (rendering them brittle and hastening their demise). The previous time I had needed sash-cords replaced, the masterful Vern Krahn was still available for small jobs like that - yet even someone as knowledgeable as Vern needed several hours (it's finicky work) to re-cord a double-hung window. It takes finesse of execution not to damage the window frame. But alas, Vern was no longer available, so I resorted to the market and tried booking several carpenters who were on the municipal heritage list, but ultimately it was just too small a job to get their attention. Then, out of nowhere, along came Brook Baxter, a highly skilled carpenter who had done fantastic work for us rebuilding the place on Pender Island. Brook was in town, had time for an add-on project on a weekend, and was intrigued by the job, as he'd never done it before. I couldn't believe our good fortune!

 

 

Brook Baxter, a carpenter who was game to explore something entirely new

 

 

We began the process by doing some research, which to me meant seeking advice from people with greater knowledge of re-cording heritage windows, in this case Brigitte Clark of the Victoria Heritage Foundation. I wanted to use authentic components for the job but found that nearly everything available came with some amount of polyester in it - which is as inauthentic as could be in a heritage building made of old-growth wood. I quizzed Brigitte about sourcing genuine sash cord - 100% cotton woven in a special braid - and she knew where to find it. Thanks to the folks at Acklands-Grainger on lower Government Street, I secured a supply of genuine cotton sash cord, and at a reasonable price.

 

 

The genuine article: pure cotton braided sash cord, polished, in 100 foot length

 

Brigitte's contributions to the window project continued with the sharing of a couple of pamphlets championing the retention of heritage windows, plus one dealing directly with sash window-cord replacements. I also watched a couple of YouTube videos on restringing cords, in order to develop a clear idea of the steps involved in doing it right. It's a bit complicated, as there are heavy counter weights inside the window frame to enable easy movement of the sash window (in a double hung window, there are two counter weights inside the frame, on both sides, allowing both the upper and lower sashes to work straightforwardly). Brook is fortunately a quick study, and very curious about the nature of wood construction, so he was quick to figure out how to tackle this project. Initially it involved finding a couple of removable panels that give access to the weights, and getting them out without damage.

Counter-weighted sash windows vent extremely well

The counter weights are surprisingly heavy and they operate in severely constrained spaces, side by side. But with genuine sash cord, they work extremely well and will last for a long time - if the installer knows what he's doing. Getting the weights out is a real chore, but Brook was totally innovative at this work.

 

 

Counter weights, rotted cords, and some tools and parts used to get there

 

Restringing the cords is where the real skill comes in. Even the knot used to attach the cord to the counter weight is complicated - not just any knot, but the precise one that knowledgeable carpenters use, firm and durable. Brook, who is also a skilled fisherman, knew his knots from boating, so this piece came natural to him.

 

 

Finesse with knot-tying is integral to successful re-cording of windows

 

I'll resist getting into the minutiae, but there's a lot of knowledge that goes into restringing the cords on double-hung sash windows. I'm all admiration for Brook's willingness and ability to learn on the fly, which powered this job to completion.

 

A thing of beauty: cord restrung, right knot used

I can't say enough about Brook's skill and panache in bringing this job off, and to a very high standard indeed. I thought enough of his stellar work to make him an extra special brunch as well as paying for his time, but honestly, I am in awe of his craft skills in carrying the job out.

 

Finishing up: the master craftsman at work

 

Brook's work on the sash-cord replacement inspired me to tackle some more deferred tasks myself. A redecorating project for the room ensued after the window had been restrung and a large cupboard was retooled for better storage (also Brook's handiwork). The decorating project went on through late winter and into spring, with a rhythm of its own. I did about two or three hours a day on it, which kept the job inching forward over time.

Redecorating rooms is ninety percent prep and ten percent repainting

 

 

Later that year, in November, I had an unexpected and meaningful connection with the family of the building's first occupants. I had become Facebook friends with Kim Barth Kembel some years back, who was one of Joy Savage's daughters. She and her daughter-in-law, Shansi Zhang, proposed visiting us late in 2022, on their way up-island. Joy, who was Hubert and Alys Savage's daughter, married Alfred Barth, both of whom I was fortunate enough to be in contact with over the years. Joy and Alfred were kind enough to share copies of two floor plans of the house, drawn by architect Hubert Savage, which among other things put to rest any ambiguity about whether he had designed his own home. These floor plans have been a huge aid in developing understanding of the building (I am resolved to make sure the Saanich Archives has copies for their records). It was absolutely special to meet Kim after knowing her long-distance for years - she recalled summer vacations spent here on at the bungalow on Grange Road, in the company of her mother Alys. It was an entirely memorable experience for Susan and me. I was thrilled to be able to point out to her Joy's signature, just discernible on the concrete art-deco steps at the back of the house.

 

With Kim Barth Kembel on the verandah at Grange Road

"Joy, 12-5-30": the date the concrete steps were cast, with Joy present

I was earnestly trying to mobilize myself to keep  on getting things done, even as it became harder with pandemic restrictions, supply-chain constraints, and most craft attention now squarely focussed on new construction. One consequence was that there were much longer booking times for virtually everything. This was certainly the case with refinishing the claw-foot tub in the sole bathroom. It badly needed redoing, as its synthetic finish was really worn, and there were multiple chips in it too. The booking time for the Bathtub Doctor (the outfit who do the best job) was over six months, which meant it wouldn't be finished until March 2023. The six months prior to the booking were tough ones, all in all. My sister passed away in late winter 2023, an event that was emotionally preoccupying for me. As it happened, The Bathtub Doctor was scheduled to recondition the tub the same week we were scheduled to be away for my sister's funeral. Talk about quirks of fate! Fortunately, our son Bryn was quite able to oversee the job in our absence. The Bathtub Doctor did an excellent job too, which helped me feel a bit more optimistic about getting things moved along around the house.

 

 

Refinished clawfoot tub in afternoon light

A really important job that I absolutely had to see done before putting the house on the market was seeing the shed re-roofed. The shed was designed to be an eye-catcher seen through the kitchen windows. I was concerned about the condition of its roof, as it sits under oak trees and accumulates a lot of debris. I'd been chatting with Jared Brokop, who runs Brokop Roofing, about whether we were at the point of needing a new cedar roof installed. Initially he thought not, due to the super-tight spacing of the shingles on the original roof. Upon closer inspection, however, he determined that the shingles were getting spongy (so no longer shedding water effectively) and that a replacement roof was decidedly in order. This conversation occurred during the winter, when roofing activities typically pause. But we agreed that Jared would tee the re-roofing work up as soon as there was open weather in early spring. 

 

 

Early in April 2023, a three-person crew got to work on the shed roof

 

Suddenly, in early April in a break in the weather, the job was on. A three-person team arrived on a Saturday and began stripping the old roof off, then replacing it with number one 'perfection' sawn cedar shingles. This type of roofing is now a very expensive proposition, so we were fortunate the roof was as compact as it is.

 

 

Three people working means the job proceeded rapidly to closure

 

I was very excited watching this work unfold, which it did very rapidly, basically over the course of a single weekend. The new roof had an impressive impact on the eye-catching shed that was a view from the kitchen. I'm used to this building's overall effect, but I'd forgotten just what a strong impression a brand new cedar roof gives!

 

The weather cooperated fully in the short window needed for re-roofing

 

It takes incredible skill to do cedar shingling to a high standard, but Jared and his team have the requisite skills in spades. A lot of finesse went into the job. And, because they were well-organized in the way they went about it, the mess was pretty much controlled and also removed as part of the process.

 

They almost finished the job over the course of that weekend

 

As it turned out, Jared had to come back to finish up the ridge cap the following week. It wasn't long after they were done that the balmy spring weather headed south and it began to hail. Welcome to the world, new shed roof!

 

The roof takes a beating, twelve months a year

 

It was a busy spring for us, as we were now cruising towards the place being up for sale. This leant a sense of urgency to getting things done: for example, for a long time I'd wanted to replace a the two wall sconces I installed in the living room 25 years ago - bona fide period-ware, but they were discordant with the rest of the bungalow's decor. They also didn't make for the indirect or shielded (thus interesting) light that fits with an Arts and Crafts bungalow. To me, this was a cardinal sin in an important space like the living room! It happened that for the project on Pender, we had sourced an oriental-style lantern that we used to good effect, and we had backups in a variety of sizes. So, we had a couple of wall sconces left over from that project. These iridescent lamps were installed in early May of 2023, and we are very pleased with the light they produce.

 

It gave me great satisfaction to replace the existing sconces with these lanterns

 

Of all the things I wanted to see done before I left Grange Road, repairs to the damaged panels of the Lawson Wood frieze (picture above) were at the very top of the list. Somehow, almost magically, the super-talented Simone Vogel-Horridge managed to squeeze this work into her busy schedule. The frieze is one of the things that convinced me to buy the Savage bungalow more than 35 years ago. As entrancing as its effects are, there were nonetheless several damaged areas (whether by exposure to daylight, chemicals leaching from a previous wallpaper behind, or from simple human error) and these damaged areas needed careful attention. This is not work for amateurs. It takes immense skill and vast knowledge to undertake repairs to historic wallpaper. Simone has these skills, but the challenge was getting her attention for a relatively small job. But we managed to slip this one in, just under the wire.

 

 

Simone exploring precise colour matches in preparation for repairing the frieze

 

 

It had always irked me that the signed frieze in the living room had deteriorated at a number of points. Heritage consultant Stuart Stark recommended Simone as someone who could work magic in a situation like this, and he was absolutely right. It took a long time, and a good deal of patience, to get Simone's attention on the project, but once she was seized of it, things really flowed.

 

The serious business of identifying accurate colour matches for the frieze

 

If memory serves, Simone and her assistant Will visited us in early December 2022, to undertake detailed assessment of what repair of the frieze would involve. It would be some months before they returned to complete the work, but they needed to produce entire replacement panels that would blend seamlessly with the original artwork. Luckily, I had acquired two Lawson Wood prints in the same frieze pattern (but in coloured entirely differently) that provided her with a template for his rendering of clouds - Simone copied this detail with absolute veracity, as it was the key to two of the missing linking spaces.

 

 

Will preparing to position a replacement panel, for colour comparison

 

Simone was hard at work adapting the base colours so they blended better with the rest of the frieze, which had been discoloured with smoke from tobacco and the fireplace over many years. Her way of dealing with this was exceptionally brilliant: she literally adapted her base colours to mimic the effect of smoke on the original frieze.

 

Simone conditioning and toning a replacement panel

To say I was excited by this development would be rank understatement - it was a form of magic being worked in the interests of original art that I valued immensely.

 

New panel prior to being conditioned to mimic the effects of smoke 

 

 

I was more than pleased with the results of this long-delayed process. We had already concluded the sale of the house prior to the rehabilitation work being done, so it was doubly magic for me. In this way I was, through Simone's capable agency, getting to make a final contribution to the uniqueness of the Savage bungalow - while still being on the way out the door. This was entirely special, and a fitting consummation of the relationship I had enjoyed with this spellbinding building for over thirty-five years. The only thing I regret about the experience I've had here is having to actually bring it to a close. But in life, perhaps it doesn't get any better than that.

 

 

Conditioning the clouds to mimic smoke effects

Panel conditioned to better mimic the effects of tobacco and fireplace smoke

 

I have been most fortunate in my time here to work with so many skilled individuals, without whom the Savage bungalow would not have been restored as remarkably as it has been. I want to share this with them now, as it's been an honour to have the opportunity of working with them all. Thank you all so much for your skill, hard work and dedication to craft, from the bottom of my heart!