Farmhouse-Penthouse

I am thinking, watching Trouble 1 and Hannes in the hole created where the rusting tin plates and the rotted shingle roof just came off, that this is very far from a penthouse.

It has always been referred to as the Big Barn. It used to be a hay barn, and it sits in between my place and Alida’s. In more modern days it served as storage for farming equipment and later my garden furniture and a lot of things kept just because there is room for them. The old tin roof has been looking sad for many years though and this spring it was a fact: the ridge is giving in. So the question was, do I need to tear it down or should I leave it to simply collapse?

Sometimes I am overwhelmed by the work and effort it is keeping a place like mine. The main house, the baker’s cottage, the woodshed/coach house and the Big Barn. This summer there have been three major concerns heavy on my shoulders: the Big Barn, the south wall of the baker’s cottage (are the ants eating it and do I need to replace the whole wall, not only the boarding suffering from the sun and wind?) and the main house roof.

My place is my maternal grandparents homestead, built 1915-20. It’s my heart and my roots. I am the seventh generation in my village, that’s how far the family tree goes, my sons the eighth. The fields and the forests, planted by my grandfather, is the map I am navigating by. The creek is the blood in my veins.

It is a gift and I am very grateful. But it is also an anchor sometimes too heavy. That’s why I need a penthouse with a view in the place where my lungs are.

Seattle is water and mountains, skies and tall glass buildings. It is the smell of red cedar and the ocean, new memories and those yet to come. My history here is only twenty years old.

It used to be taking off to Seattle was diving into the sky. It was running away from my life in the woods. From the gravity of generations and preconceived notions laid upon me. And even if I was in a really bad place when leaving here, I could trust life running into my body as soon as I was waiting for my welcome-back ride at SeaTac. Filling my lungs with that cedar-ocean spray that lifted my spirits  like a colorful balloon.

Seattle isn’t that quick fix anymore though. Twenty years isn’t seven generations, but it is pretty much 1/3 of my life. And it’s most of my sons’ lives. It is a divorce and the loss of a happy family. It is friends passed away and moving out of town. It is restrained passion and love lost in failed hopes. It is cancer. And it’s a traumatized body from countless back episodes, bedridden stays and nightmare overseas flights.

I live in the woods on an old homestead that used to be a farmhouse. It’s as much on the ground as it can be. It is as much grounded as I can be. The antipode is a penthouse in Seattle. To live in the sky with an unrestricted view of mountains and water, a big city and a tiny home, easy to maintain. It’s as much up in the air as it can be. It’s as high as I can be.

When I returned to Seattle after the cancer, I hadn’t been back for three years. I was a different person. I walked the Northwest soil with baby steps. And I had found the penthouse to fill my lungs.

Opening the door to Main Condo at the corner of Main and 23rd took my breath away. I was in heaven. Literally. The place swam in light and air from the floor-to-ceiling windows facing south and west, and sitting at the 700 square feet patio was like being on a mountaintop overlooking the city and the Sound. The place had Maria written all over, everything was perfect, even the parking; the best spots in the garage! And it was for sale!!

I was renting from the lovely Debra who wouldn’t mind selling to me. I didn’t have the money of course, but my dear friend Randi and I bought lottery tickets, convinced that this was meant to be! I am not a lottery person, I am not lucky in that way, and of course the money didn’t come my way. But I had a great experience, and it turned out I was right: I was a penthouse woman as much as I am a farmhouse girl!

And yesterday the farmhouse girl was leading the Saving the Big Barn project. In the morning already Alida’s son Melker started the chainsaw. Hannes down the road joined with the hammer drill and the team was completed with Trouble & Trouble who used to keep the barn as their hut and climbing wall when they grew up.

The plan was to strengthen the two rotting roof beams with new ones attached to the old. Then remove the rusting tin plates and dig out the soft shingles underneath. The next step would be to replace the decayed crossbars. Would the plan work?

It did! It was exciting I have to say, because the barn is tall and the roof neither accessible nor safe to work. But the Big Barn rescue team was just perfect for the mission as Hannes is a climber and Trouble & Trouble Parkour seniors with height experience, not to talk about the Koja/Treehouse project!

It is mid September. We’ve had lots of summer days although fall is officially here. And I have taken care of two of my three major concerns. I’ve had the main house roof inspected and assured that it’s okay and will last for 10, maybe 15 more years!! And yesterday my fantastic neighbors and sons saved the Big Barn for at least this winter and I am so grateful.

The south wall of the baker’s cottage I am letting go for now. Next summer new missions. And, yes, I am aiming for another penthouse experience. The roots need the air. The heart needs the lungs. The antipodes need each other.