2. Beginning of my Process: The actual impetus for a new house project is usually born of different motivations. In this case, we had sold the only spec home that we had lived in because we were offered the right price, and we could get another lot for a reasonable price. We were no longer home-owners and that needed to be remedied. But more importantly, we were ready for the project. I think we had come to a point where we needed the joint endeavor because it's usually a pretty healthy thing for our marriage. We work well together, and we become closer as we get the chance to spend the time and energy on something that's a common goal. We also wanted something nicer than our last home. We felt ready to make the step into a different market, one with bigger risk but (hopefully) greater pay-off.
Our house projects generally work with us taking different but complimentary roles. I design, conceptualize, and figure the best methods for execution. I also do the bulk of the research. Barry manages the project, the timelines, the sub-trades, etc., and he provides the element of uncommon commitment. He's the 'Energizer bunny' that does not run out of energy before completion. We execute a lot of the work itself together, which I will address later. But I wanted to lay out the symbiotic process that we already knew as we made the decision to do our last build. It was certainly the largest factor in our feeling confident that we could do it.
3. Playing with the Idea: I tend to play with the idea of a new house incessantly. By the time we sold our previous house, I probably had over twenty house plans bookmarked on my computer as inspiration points, and I had four or five different plans that I had redrawn on 81/2X11 sheets of graph paper with enough detail for a draftsman to easily complete full blueprints. House planning, dreaming, and drawing is one of my favorite pastimes. Barry and I tend to hit up open houses, snapping disallowed photos of things we like. We also enjoy driving through various neighborhoods for inspiration, especially when we visit different cities with different aesthetics than what you commonly see in Southern Alberta. We took an architecture class together as undergrads, and I completed a few others as part of my art minor, so we are familiar with different periods and influences. We get pleasure out of scoffing at those that mix craftsman elements with English country, for example. So going into this new house, we wanted to create something of consistent style, but something that would still have the mass appeal needed for resale. We wanted this house to really showcase what we were capable of doing.
In hindsight, I can see that I often begin a project in such a way. I have a general goal, but it is only a guideline - I don't like tying myself to any strict focus from the beginning. Then I like to spend time just playing, reading, viewing, sketching, figuring, even if it's for a project I know I won't do. I often imagine scenarios where I would do it. For example, with the house plans I had drawn up by the time we sold the house, I had at least on of each of the following: "if I had a home business" plan, a "if we were a retired couple" plan, a "if I was single" plan, and a "if money were no object" plan. These allowed me to dream a little, to pull various things from each thing that would appeal to me and my actual situation.
This portion of any creative project is usually the most enjoyable for me. I get to be truly imaginative. I feel a bit like a kid, except that I can also feel the effect of experience and maturity in my play. There's also little stress and no firm deadline, so the motivation is purely intrinsic, which is pretty darn cool. This is the stage I'm at right now for the next house. We know there will be a next, but it's not slated for anytime soon, so I just play with ideas and scenarios, and when the time comes, it's easier to hone in on what I am confident will work.
4. Taking Action: I see this a the moment we settled on a house style, and I began drafting final blueprints. We had already been out of our other house for a few months, summer was coming, and we had closed on the new lot. We decided that a French Normandy would be a distinctive choice that would be least offensive to the largely traditional market in Cardston. I found a house online that inspired the outside design, and I drew up the plans in rough format. I waited until school was out to draw actual blueprints. I had enough experience with draftsmen and architects to know that they wouldn't do it just as I wanted. They always feel the need to put their stamp on it somehow, and I really didn't want that. It was my first summer that I didn't take a summer job for some extra cash and I hadn't yet started the M.Ed., so I had the time and energy to devote myself fully to the house.
I drew the plans in 'old school' fashion, with large sheets of drafting paper, a geometry set, and a calculator. I even managed to figure roof schematics. I loved this part of the project because it was when I felt I learned the most. It also energized me for the next stages of the project, beginning with excavating and then all the other really rough phases during which it doesn't look like much. (Because of Barry's job at the time, he wasn't around much either, whereas I was onsite daily.) I was also more open to the trades when they asked if they could experiment with something new. My brother, for example, who did most of our framing, asked to build our large 8/12 pitch roof on the ground and then crane it into place on prefabricated walls he would make in Raymond. I said sure; the whole project, after all, had the feel of a loose experiment, but all along, I was confident in the skills of those involved.
In all, the house took almost exactly a year. I drafted in July, we dug in August, we moved in the following June, but we had loose ends we finished up that summer, including the yard. We were the general contractors for the whole project, but we also did certain things ourselves: the roofing, the insulating, the painting, the flooring, all of the electric and plumbing beyond rough-in, some of the finishing, much of the exterior finishes, and the yard (including landscape, deck, patio, gazebo, etc.). Essentially, it was as if both of us had a second full-time job that ate most every evening and all of our weekends. Some of the factors that kept us going included the feeling of constant progress (every stage made us feel that much closer to the end result), the chance that we had to work together (many memorable late nights with of us tiling and talking, our process down to a science by that time), and the sheer exhilaration of creating something that finally felt more like 'us'.
There were, of course, several extrinsic motivators, as well. Construction loans work such that you have to keep the process going in appropriate order to facilitate each draw of cash. We were also working to beat times of rush in various trades. And we hated living in the little studio apartment with most of our things in storage. In hindsight, I see that there is a pattern in the majority of creative projects that I do of making myself slightly uncomfortable as a means of ensuring completion/remaining motivated.
5. Barriers and Momentum: Momentum, I suppose, is somewhat addressed above, although I will add that it also helped to work in spurts. We knew, for example, that the best time for us to complete all the interior painting was over the February break in school, so we simply HAD to have all the subtrades to that point completed and all the materials purchased and colors chosen. Then we spent entire days and late into the nights completing that particular phase so that we could be done for the next thing we had scheduled, for the next burst of effort. Another factor in our momentum was unexpected. We had a lot of people in town take note of the house, and it became a popular spot for people to drive by and check out progress, so that gave us a little extra push in times we needed it.
Many of the barriers that we experienced came as a result of the problems inherent in general contracting. I understand why people hire that out. It's a hassle. Subtrades can be difficult to line up, to keep committed to your job, and sometimes, to even find (we ended up roofing, for example, because we couldn't find a roofer willing to do our job). They also invariably wanted a great deal more money once they had completed the job, which was frustrating as we felt it was part of their professional responsibility to make their original quotes accurate. Most often, these barriers were overcome by our bargaining with people or by our taking on the added work ourselves, which generally meant more research, more learning by experience and mistake, and more time.
The opposite sometimes held true, though. We had planned to do some things ourselves - the exterior rock work, the laying of sprinklers, as examples, but by the time we reached that point, we had to acknowledge our exhaustion and hire it out. We also became good at figuring into our costs what our time was worth.
I think that commonly, it is a set of outside barriers that stall a project for me, and if I'm able to solve them, it is generally through problem-solving or just learning to 'take care of it' myself. I do tend to bite of more than I can chew, too, so I see a pattern of burning out in many projects. I have quite a few unfinished things that became rather burdensome in the end, and I decided they just weren't worth my time anymore.
6. Completion: We swore we wouldn't move in to this house until every last inch was completed, at least on the inside, but we had to eat our words. We were waiting for countertops, and there was filling and repainting of trim left, closet organizers, and other odds and ends left to complete when we moved in. We did strategize, though, by putting most everything in the basement family room, setting up a bed in one of the basement spare bedrooms and an impromptu kitchen at the bar area, and only allowing ourselves to unpack into certain rooms when each was completely finished. There was the odd area, though, that we got too comfortable with being unfinished. The downstairs studio, the storage room and the storage room were only recently completed. Some final caulking and paint touch-ups have yet to be done, so in some ways, we stalled out at the end. Unfortunately, it just becomes easy to live with something a little incomplete when the final product has been so satisfying in other ways.
7. The Essence of My Process: In my creative process, I need the time to play, I like to learn something new or hone an ability/craft, I like working with people I know I can trust, I tend to take on a lot and burn out before completion, but I generally push to the end... at least until I have something that meets or exceeds my original expectations.
A few pictures from Christmas-time last year:
