My Victorian House

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Twenty-five years ago, my husband and I bought a one-hundred-year-old Victorian house next door to the one in which I grew up. My hands were full with a new infant, a 2-year-old, and a home that needed lots of work. I hired Handyman Sal to paint several of the 17 interior rooms and fix a couple of ceilings. I also hired TJ Rasmus, a Victorian home renovator, to tear down and rebuild both front and side porches, add a mudroom, install three double-hung windows over the kitchen sink and open up the breakfast nook with more double-hung outside view. During an ice storm, the side porch fell off, but it was a blessing in disguise as these significant renovations provided better access to my grandmother’s apartment.  Several floors were rough and needed immediate attention. John, the owner of New Life for Old Floors, sanded the bedrooms. I replaced the pink and white kitchen tiles with maple hardwood. For the sleeping porch, I hired carpenter Richie Powers to install wall-to-wall carpet.  The front porch needed cosmetic work—the previous owner invested in light gray siding, which covered some decorative features. I saw pictures of the original house design, and I hoped that someday we could get it back, but I was grateful the upkeep was minimal. 

 

My mom encouraged and funded our 18 by 38- foot inground pool with a 60 foot stone retaining wall and large garden beds. She and my dad lived next door and approached me with the idea. With eight grandchildren visiting in the summer, my backyard was the perfect location. At about the same time, I offered to help my mother manage my grandmother's health care. She came to live in my first-floor apartment, convenient for both of us. The idea captured my imagination, so I gladly accepted the responsibilities, especially the decorating. My amenable husband took on the challenge as well. 

 

I filled each room with family hand-me-downs and estate furniture from Ronnie Seifert's Auction Service in Hoosick, NY.   My grandmother's things included a Cushman furniture collection. I  was able to outfit my entire dining room with a fancy oval three-legged pedestal dining room set, six upholstered chairs, an Empire mahogany buffet, a pair of Ethan Allen bachelor chests, end tables, and an area rug.   For the living areas, I staged couches, wing chairs, end tables, and mirrors. I encouraged my husband to use the old wide-pine dining table as his home office desk, which came with a set of 6 ladder back chairs. I purchased large pieces at Ronnie's auctions, including wrought iron porch furniture, bedroom dressers, and a three-quarter brass bed. Others included a 9 by 12 oriental rug, occasional chairs, picture frames, silver-plated service ware, linens, and an upright piano. 

 

I fussed with every room, and I swapped rooms: the family room for the dining room. The dining room for the living room.  I always loved the look of the dining room in front of the fireplace and bay windows.  During the holidays, I placed the Christmas tree in the bay. The decorated room looked like a picture right out of a magazine. I was so pleased.

 

My attic is a mess.  It’s filled with all sorts of treasures, bolts of designer fabric, a pool table, American Girl Dolls, a beanie baby collection with original tags, Pokemon cards, plastic horses, vintage clothing, electronics, lamps, chairs, Beatles albums, my old 45s, interior doors, 7 cases of children's books, a baby crib, stuffed animals, old porcelain sinks, plumbing, and an old cistern. My grown children told me to throw it all away; they no longer wanted it. I was tempted to declutter but disinclined because I knew someday I would use it to decorate all the rooms of my house. Years ago, I donated all my childhood books to a school book drive and regretted it because I wanted to share my childhood memories with them. I have a feeling the sentiment will be the same. When I reassign my attic nostalgia throughout the house, I dream of creating a studio space just for me, a "she-attic." It stands 40 feet tall and has a west-facing lookout for the West Hoosick hills during Fall foliage season. The leaves turned orange, red, and yellow are spectacular.

 

It's time for another go-round. Upcoming projects include remodeling my upstairs primary bedroom and bathroom. I plan to convert my daughter's smallish bedroom into a walk-in closet and my son's bedroom into a guest room suite with a connecting door to the guest room. I imagine the suite to have a TV, rocking chair, pull-out couch, and crib, doubling as a nursery someday. 

 

My entryway is next. I hired a painter who will erect scaffolds for the 20 ft high stairwell. In the queue is Essex Green paint for the kitchen pantry. The side porch needs painting, the front porch needs shoring up, and the kitchen cabinets and countertops need a refresh. We ordered a new inground pool liner and cover and new slings for the lounge chairs. The stone garden retaining wall is precarious. The foundation needs repointing, and the roof leaks. A local roofer just told me the original slate needs to come off with shingles or metal. And while the crew is up there, they would have time to repoint the two crumbling chimneys. It never ends. There is always something. I imagine it will all be finished someday. Still, I have accepted that my house will always be in a state of perpetual decorative motion just like my gardens. I have decided to relax and enjoy the process.