Did you buy this place?

During prior visits we did not spend much time at the property because it was really cold and/or we hadn’t decided what to do with the house, or what even needed to be done to the house. But with this longer warm-weather visit, the daily routine involves leaving our family’s home every morning to spend the day ~~working on~~ at our place. Some of what we do is physical work, but so much of the time is spent in discovery.

Knowing that the house has been shuttered for decades motivates us to put our own mark on the house. We’d like to send a subtle signal that things have changed, or are about to change, so we hang a flag in an upstairs window and put some patio furniture in the screened-in porch.

Oh that screened-in porch; what a way to spend a summer day in Vermont. It seems there’s always a breeze and the shade provides a break from the sun. Sometimes we just sit gazing at the views and take it all in. In these moments it’s easy to ignore that everything’s probably about to fall apart. How much rain, wind, and snow can a little farm house take?

We’re on the top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere, but there is a routine flow of cars and trucks that pass by each day. Most wave (the Vermont Wave is definitely a thing) and we return the greeting. Some toot their horn as they pass by, a couple enthusiastically flash a “thumbs up.” But it’s an unexpected pleasure when one of these neighbors, especially long-time natives, stops. Some pull off to the side of the road and a few stop right in the middle of the road. Some get out and head for us while others stay behind the wheel expecting us to come to them. It takes us a while to work this all out.

By now we’ve become accustomed to the refrain. It usually goes something like this: “I’ve lived up here for X years and in all that time I’ve never seen anyone here, I’ve never seen those shutters open. Did you buy this place?” There are variations…

“I never knew this place was up for sale.”
“There was never a sign.”
“Are you from Texas? How did you buy this place?”
“If I’d known it was for sale I’d have bought it.”
“What are you gonna do with that house?”

When we let them know we haven’t yet decided what to do with the house, there’s always friendly advice. The advisory consensus is to save it. A few ask to see inside. One couple seems embarrassed confessing they looked in the windows when we weren’t there. We think those who see inside might feel differently about trying to renovate, but they find nice things to say. “It has a certain charm.”

These exchanges begin to shape our thoughts…