The Housegleaners: A DIY Freestyle Fixerupper Remodel Blog Focused On Salvage, Reuse, and Upcycling

  I've been going full tilt since October and I think it finally caught up with me. The cats must have felt my fatigue because they let me sleep in till 10:30, which is remarkable because they usually demand breakfast by 7:30. Even after I woke up they just stayed snuggled between my legs as we listened to the rain. The rain. It rains a lot here in the Pacific Northwet [sic] and this house has needlessly suffered for it. While flooding is a thing here , it's uncommon and not the main problem. It's the steady drip drip drip of rain over the years that has done a lot of damage--damage that could have been easily avoided. Sarah's off visiting her parents and I felt my motivation flag. Plus, like I said, I'm bone tired. So I took it kind of light today, which in the end was for the best because small preventive measures pay big dividends.  I installed more downspout extensions. Most of the downspouts already had them, but some didn't. So I bought a couple yesterday

  This place came with the three things I most wanted when I was 10 and my parents dragged me around looking at houses they couldn't afford: a fireplace, spiral stairs, and a pool table. The pool table will eventually go in the woodshop, where I'll build a protective removable top to use as table saw outfeed table. For now its ponderous bulk squats immovable in the living room, covered by tarp and piece of plywood for use as work station, though mostly it just collects stuff. Sarah claimed this bespoke scratching post off a free list and we've been planning to add a vertical element above for the cats to extend their climbing. First thought was shelf with a hole in it, then that evolved into a tree branch spanning the corner, inspired in part by Hundertwasser , an Austrian architect who planted trees in apartments. To bring the outside in, we cut a section off a felled birch out back. (We checked if birch is toxic for cats. It's not.) [ Correction : it's actually Al

Wake up.   They say even the longest journey begins with a single step--but that presupposes a linear trajectory. What if you're walking in a circle? Then the trip is infinite. So while we are prepared for this being a drawn out process of multitudinous tasks and literally thousands of individual actions large and small, we're not immune to moments of FUD: fear, uncertainty, and doubt. What if we never finish? Well, a house in never "finished" because there's always maintenance, but what if we never even get to baseline habitability? Or worse, what if it turns out to be beyond reclamation? As I literally dig in and get to know the structure intimately and see the degraded foundation and other unknowns arise, a specter of dread looms. Which is why I like to start each day with a straightforward, self-contained task. Today it was re-attaching refrigerator handles that had been removed when maneuvering it out of the house where a friend of a friend gave us a full set

The cats pretty consistently wake us up at 7:30, and they did so today but with more ruckus than usual as they took a boisterous victory lap over the mouse they killed overnight and left under the bed. It's tempting to say they've started earning their keep, but they keep us. Their antics keep us laughing all day, no matter how hard the work gets, and today did get kind of heavy. Started easy though by setting up a dishwashing station on the back deck: soaking tub, soapy sponge in its own bucket, and rinse basin with a touch of bleach. A satisfying short term solution but we're jonesing for a functional kitchen and today's efforts brought us one small giant step closer to that glorious dream. The once and future sink. This house is on a community well, water main connected to a pumphouse down the road. But it used to be on its own well out back, and so there were not one but two defunct pressure tanks cluttering the crawlspace under the kitchen. This is a concern beca

One good thing about waking up on your jobsite is there's no commute. The downside is dwelling in a dusty, drafty, deficient domicile. The biggest pain right now is lack of kitchen sink (we have almost everything but). Sarah rigged up a provisional kitchen in the living room with countertop, cutting board, coffee maker, and cabinet full of utensils, and the fridge is located conveniently only two rooms away, but cooking becomes less appealing when there's no simple way to do the dishes. Rigging up a temporary sanitation station outside is first on tomorrow's list while tonight's dinner residue soaks overnight in a metal washtub. It's also pretty cold, with today's weather in that bonechilling low 30's zone (1 degree Celsius) where the moist air really gets up in there. This house was built in 1960 and the aluminum windows appear to be original. Some have been switched out for mid grade vinyl (not great but an improvement) but most are single pane metal frame

  Today was moving day, and as usual with these things it came down to the wire, with added pressure of trying to make the 12:20 Bremerton Ferry on time. We spent all New Year's Eve packing and cleaning, went to bed at 11:55, fell asleep to fireworks and revelry in the streets. The cats woke us by walking on our heads right on schedule at 7:30 and the morning was the last sprint to the finish of what has been a months long marathon going back and forth between Kitsap and Seattle. It was a relief watching the city recede on a one-way ticket with no hard deadline for return. Departing by sea is the nicest way to leave Seattle. I packed the truck bed tight as grains in a salt shaker, and when the last stray boot and bag was compressed into place, I doublechecked that the canopy hatch would stay latched against the outward pressure. Then I stacked up the backseat like a bricklayer all the way to the ceiling, bucket seats scooched up a couple of clicks to make use of every inch. Strappe