Billie's Folly

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...