Billie's Folly

A couple years ago I started a new tradition.  Instead of New Year's resolutions, I write myself a New Year's letter.  It's like an annual diary entry.  It's not a recap (like holiday letters), but more of an assessment of my life to date--the quality, accomplishments, emotional state--evaluating the year behind and anticipating the year ahead, and where I am as the year changes over.  It sometimes comes across as stream of consciousness--very informal.  This year, I've decided to share it here. 12/31/18 - Here I am in Oregon.  Mission half accomplished.  It's a good thing I plan to live forever, because that's what it's taking to get this house built!  Probably a total of five years--from plans (concept was a lot earlier) to move-in.  But what else would I be doing?  And I'm actually almost glad that it's dragging out--I might never feel this creative and inspired again.  During the initial work with the architect--when anyt...

More from my vision board.  When I find images that I love, I can close my eyes and envision and mentally incorporate the elements into my architectural elevations.  Sometimes I have to give up on an idea--because it isn't in keeping with the style and age of the house I'm trying to create.  But generally, if I love it, it melds perfectly into the overall plan.  Here are a few interior details that inspired me. This is a design element we've repeated throughout the main floor.  Since the house has a central core of hallways and family room, with other rooms radiating off, I was concerned that the interior could be dark--especially during the winter months in Oregon.  So, as you enter the living room, dining room, office and sunroom, there will be glass transoms and side lights to distribute some of the daylight from these rooms.  This design is also repeated around exterior doors.  With the greenhouse glass in three locations, and this framin...

A dream, vision or inspiration board is a  collage of images that represent whatever you want to be, do or have in your life.   I t helps you focus, explore and clarify goals, in hopes of transforming them into reality.   Many use the online version--Pinterest.   I love the idea of Pinterest, but for me it's a vast, bottomless pit of links and evaporated time.   My (en)vision board is specific to my love of home design.  And "board" is not the right word.  Mine amounts to stacks of pages torn from magazines (yes, I'm one of the few left who prefer a tangible magazine to digital images) and mental photographs that reside indelibly in the right side of my brain.  I collect pictures of what I find beautiful, what I covet and what inspires me. Here are a few inspirations that I hope to emulate and incorporate into my house. I love everything about this house--I designed my roof line after the graceful curves here. I'm hoping to ...

Seasons at my rental house. It didn't take much thought for me to decide how I'd live in Portland while my house was being built.  My feeling about the next couple of years, was that I'd be in limbo anyway, so why worry about feeling moved-in to a temporary home.  It was all part of the adventure!  So I decided I'd rent a house large enough to hold me and my stuff--half storage unit, half  apartment. I was eager to find a place close to my building site.  I grabbed this house--sight unseen--because it was only seven minutes away.  And it ends up it's in a very friendly young neighborhood.  The only drawback is a steep driveway, then stairs to the front door (or from the garage to the main floor), then more stairs to the bedroom.  The movers definitely didn't appreciate it, and I consider the amount of groceries I buy at a time. I use one bedroom and a spacious family room/kitchen.  One side is my "office", and the other side is m...

While we wait impatiently for permits, the excavation and grading has slowed.  This is due to the garage move and a couple other significant changes.  I've had two requests to meet Skip (builder) and Ralph (architect) at the site.  This gets me excited each time, because it means they've been at the site and thinking and talking together about the house--and sometimes I think I'm the only one who can't stop thinking about it. At the first meeting, one of their suggestions was moving the garage--which I initially balked at (not the suggestion itself, just the suggestion of a major change)--but it was a brilliant move and now I'm so thankful they thought of it.  Their second idea that day was moving the whole project ten feet east.  It would affect the grading--creating a more gradual slope to the west of the house and driveway.  That sounded desirable and easy enough to do.  Another worthwhile change in the plans. Today's meeting was a cage-rattl...

It's been almost a year since I moved to the Portland area.  I said before, "I haven't looked back."  True and not true.  What I meant was--I've had no regrets on making the move and lifestyle change.  But of course I look back. Everyone has friends from different phases of life.  There are childhood through high school friends, where your shared background unites you.  Many people remain close for life, especially if they don't move far from where they grew up.  I however, didn't stay close with friends from my youth.  I'd been geographically confined (an island), and felt cubby-holed for those first 18 years of my life--or at least the last 8.  So when I moved away for college, I spread my wings, and took the opportunity to reinvented (a cliche, I know) my persona, and change my perception of myself.  In the process, I carelessly let go of all friendships (save one) and even memories from my past.   Living communally, in colle...

The front elevation I showed you a couple posts ago, is what guests will see upon arrival.  And I wanted it to be your first impression also.  A circular drive with a central fountain frames this entry facade, and I always intended this aspect would be an accurate representation of the house. But as I said, then the house continues from there.  And full disclosure:  It got big! The plans show a generous first floor.  I knew the rooms I wanted and got them all put together in a very organized (i.e. symmetrical) layout.  Then I wanted the second floor to mirror the first floor in perimeter, throw in 18" walls around it all--and suddenly I had a big house!  It took me totally by surprise!  I thought I was building the same house I had--with the addition of a bar and pantry--and a couple feet here and there.  Evidently all those square feet add up. Since then I've been in denial and refuse to talk square footage.  I may be the only 68 ...

Because I wanted straight, vertical exterior walls, the second floor replicates the square footage of the main floor--whether needed or not.  I wanted a master, an upstairs laundry, and two guest rooms, en suite.  All rooms are spacious.  But there was still unused floor space.  We tried to fit in a third guest room,  but it would have been too small relative to the others.  I didn't want another family room--how many places can I spend my time?  So, I have a spacious upstairs central hall.  My solution is to distract the eye with beautiful floors and my oversized Japanese woodblock prints, that will add richness to the space. The guest rooms will have sloped ceilings due to the roofline.  Having had this situation before, I think of it as adding character and charm.  The larger bedroom will have an eastern view, a queen bed and a loveseat at the northern window.  The small balcony from the adjoining bath has been removed for ...

I mentioned before that in the planning process I realized my obsession with symmetry.  Looking at the front elevation in the previous post, the living room is on the left (East), the dining room on the right (West).  Then the house continues from there.  I had in mind a central core that would be the entry, stairway and kitchen/family room.  On each side would be generous hallways with rooms adjoining.  I've split the main floor plans into two drawings below.   I wanted all the same rooms that I had before.  However, this is the house of my dreams, so I also wanted a couple rooms that I'd always longed for (coffee bar, butler's pantry).  I should add here that I diligently measured the main rooms in my previous home.  It was cozy, and I didn't want to lose that.  But I have plenty of furniture, and I figured each room could use a couple extra feet, so as not to feel quite  so  cozy.   Past the living room on the ...

If I have to give it a description, I'd say the house I've designed is a European Country House. The style is of European origin--but not strictly English, French or otherwise.  To me European means old-world--when nothing was as defined, stylized or rigidly adhered to.  I'm having stone walls with more mortar than usual, hoping to achieve the look of a time when uniformity and precision were not the goal.  The outside walls are 18" deep, to create deep sills on the inside and outside.  The driveway will be gravel.  And I'll let vines climb some walls with abandon. The labels so commonly used today--cottage, farmhouse, bungalow, estate, etc.--are too quaint, specific or formal to describe my house.  And as much as I'd like to find a name that evokes automatic charm, I feel like labeling it with a suggestion of lifestyle, has a pretense I'd like to avoid.  So it's just a house in the country--could be the European countryside, or the Oregon cou...

I have the Webster's definition above.  And initially the 19th century English architectural reference is what led me to think of calling my house a folly.  In my mind I think of folly as frivolousness and indulgence of every whim.  I guess it's my way of acknowledging that I realize this house I'm building is beyond what's necessary for me at my age/stage in life--it's my folly.  And to give my house any other name would seem pretentious--I can't take myself that seriously. At this point I've brought my house activities up to date.  For what it's worth, here's where I am on a personal level.   My Chapter 3 was the major life change I made—leaving the area I’d lived for most of my life, my friends from over 40 years, a home I loved, and my very contented lifestyle—for the unknown.   Besides the obvious of moving near my daughter and her family, and being closer to my parents, it even surprised me that I was willing to leave my routine and comfort...

The property has slowly evolved from an overgrown mess to an almost park-like setting, with its open space and simplicity.  I had over a dozen large fir trees felled. Two trucks of 40-foot logs were carted away. Then I had a small forest--of what were probably planted as Christmas trees--cleared.  Lots of good firewood for friends and neighbors.   And more wide-open space.      A dilapidated old cow barn was torn down. And finally the house.  The last remnant of the property's previous character.

I'd lost my buddy (my beagle, Bailey) a year before I made the move to West Linn.  I wanted another, but waited until I was situated in my rental house.  I searched rescues, but ended up on the internet, and had little 6-pound Sadie shipped from Missouri.  Where beagles have some very distinctive traits, they can have completely different temperaments (like children from the same parents).  Bailey was a solid, mellow girl, who would look, unblinking, directly into my soul (ok, corny, but it felt that way!).  Sadie is a lithe, high-strung pup, who is sweet beyond words, but crazed beyond belief.  She's giving me a run for my money, but has won my heart.  Here she is at nine months and 20 pounds.  Pretty cute, huh? That's my segue into more about dogs.  Last summer my neighbors heard the county sheriff's canine unit was looking for places to train.  They suggested my property because the house was vacant and could take abuse.  I ...

Before I moved to Portland, I spent the occasional night at the 1970's house that was on the property.  I got a feel for the seasonal changes I'd so looked forward to after living in California for 45 years.  The rich green vegetation is persistent year round.  I'd missed that.  And the light is different.  The blue sky in California is diluted with a white brightness.  It's not a haze, but more like a filter.  In Oregon the blue is bluebird blue--dense, intense and pure.  And like I'd remembered from growing up in the Northwest, the dazzling summers make all the rain and gray skies well worth it. And I was now in the country.  I watched snow magically transform the landscape, Mount Hood progress through the seasons, and I discovered the local flora and fauna.  This young prince was as surprised as I was when I rounded the corner of the driveway. I love the Indian summer red of the leaves of Geranium Lucidum or shining crane's bi...

Bob (CA architect) and I interviewed architects in Portland to find someone with local knowledge, who knows his way around the building department, who has a similar approach and an appreciation of our plans.  We would need a liaison to submit permits, and a local architect to oversee the building once it begins.  We found an extremely experienced recruit in Ralph.  He has turned out to be invaluable. From Ralph I got the names of three general contractors he thought would be a good match for me and the house.  Fortunately and unfortunately, the builders he recommended were all reputable and very well qualified.  Since this is by far the biggest (costliest!) undertaking I'll ever be up against, and since I have to work with this person (and vice versa) for almost two years, this was a huge decision.  The bids were close, so it came down to compatibility.  I was stuck.  Ralph came through with a couple final observations that helped me make ...

I got a great referral to a realtor in Portland--a sister-in-law of a friend in California.  My stipulations were for approximately two acres, at a price that didn't include any existing structures--since I planned to tear everything down and start from scratch.  I also wanted a sense of being in the country, but within sight of neighbors and some sense of security.  My hopes on top of that, were for a lot that wouldn't feel dreary in the rainy winters, a nice territorial view, and a big shade tree "out back."   In three trips to Portland and six months, I bought the first property I'd seen--it felt right.  It also fit all my requirements, and more.  I'm on a gated street with only three other homes, I'm at the top of what's known as Pete's Mountain--well, if not the very top, it feels like it--with an eastern view of Mt. Hood, and I even have my lovely shade tree. So I had landed.  In West Linn, I would be 30 minutes from my daughter and he...

I have a wonderful architect--and by wonderful, I mean superhumanly patient!  Bob designed a house our family had previously lived in, and I hired him to design a lovely sunroom and guest cottage at my last home in California.  I don't think many creative types would have been as accepting (and need less ego stroking) as he was of my initial floor plan sketch and insistence that this was the house I wanted.  I'm a lie-awake-at-night designer, and I was pretty much married to the layout I'd been dreaming of for years.  Bob made me consider options outside my rigid little box, and was vital in making my vision work in real-life proportions. We worked together pretty much non-stop for over two years.  Bob has a great staff--all equally patient.  We devised a system where I figured out basic markup techniques on my desktop, and we went back-and-forth from there.  But given online access to every drawing, gave me the ability to get into every. little. ti...

I guess my mind started drifting in this direction early in 2015, when I suspected that my daughter's then-live in-boyfriend was going to become a permanent partner in the near future.  He comes from a warm, lively, and very close family--and has a special bond with his two brothers.  Being pragmatic, I realized there was going to be a future of big happy family get-togethers and holidays, with cousins to get to know and grow up with, on his end--and me (and my parents for holidays) on this end.  I'd rather visit them too! So, my first thought was to find a special vacation spot that my daughter, future son-in-law, and even-more-future grandchildren would all want to gather with me for a long week every summer, and maybe an occasional holiday.  The flaws in that idea quickly became apparent.  Where?  Would they want to spend their vacation there every summer?  And was that enough for me?  No. On one of my trips to scout out magical family vac...