Old House Chronicles: The Foster House, #1

Once upon a time, decades ago now, I lived in a very old house in Hopkins Mills. It was a house with original clapboards, spaced closer together as they approached the barge boards, wavy in spots from centuries of settling, and old wooden windows. The house was painted white, like all the houses in the historic village, and was perched on a hill overlooking the Ponaganset River. The interior had been largely altered over the years as its residents made sequential changes to "modernize", but it still had a cove ceiling in one of the upstairs bedrooms, and steep stairs to the second floor. I always worried about the girls taking a tumble on those stairs, but they never did.

So now the house had fallen into disrepair, and was for sale, but no one was intrepid enough to take it on, what with its overgrown acreage, deteriorating structure, and 1980's fixtures. I started driving by, worrying that the old house would inevitably be bulldozed. I think you know where this is going: we bought it. To save it. And hopefully find someone to love it.

And there isn't an inch of it that doesn't need to be touched. The last few weeks have been busy finalizing financing, lining up contractors, and struggling with what is going to be restored vs. renovated. There is a difference. Being somewhat of a purist, I'd prefer saving the old 6/6 wooden windows and the narrow stair treads, but I am trying to think of what a buyer might want today. Maybe some added elements of safety and convenience might work to save the house for future generations to appreciate.

I can tell you, no vinyl siding will be on it! But some interior walls will come down, anything rotted will be replaced, there will be a new well, land will be cleared, and the kitchen and baths will be sparkly new. That is it in a nutshell; the detailed specs are almost 20 pages in length.

I'll be posting regular updates on this old house adventure. Coming next, everything you want to know about drilling a new well to replace the dug well that went dry every August.