Once Upon a Window Seat, Part I

Follow the rest of this project at the following links: Part II , Part III and Part IV.
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Since I've posted a couple of photos after the fact, it’s time to go back and start from the beginning. When Mr. Vagabond and I bought this old house, I almost immediately started planning a window seat flanked by two cabinets at the front end of the living room. The space was ideal, with two 3-foot-wide, 7-foot-tall windows centered on the wall, and an equal amount of wall space on both sides of the windows. We lived here for about 5 years before we launched the project. I am nothing, if not a patient person.

At the moment, the built-in looks like this. I still have work to do, but the rest is for me to finish as I can. Hopefully before Christmas.

The first photo (below) in the series to follow shows how the project began... a full year ago. It didn't take a year to finish, just to move past the part where I committed to it and where actual construction began. When I installed the new floor in the living room, I bought flooring materials on sale and was afraid I would run short. To avoid that, I framed out the foundation for the window seat and both cabinets, and then installed the flooring up to the edge. As you can see, I had some new lumber, but I also repurposed a lot of leftover boards from other projects. It's not as if lumber has an expiration date.

The boards on the floor along the wall were much too short in pieces, but the foundation didn’t have to be pretty; it only had to function. The board fastened to the wall under the window would serve as a cleat to anchor the back side of the window seat. I fastened all of the lumber to the floor and wall with 4-inch deck screws, which seems like overkill since I didn't anticipate rain in the living room (a dangerous thing to say in a house that's over 120 years old). I used deck screws instead of common wood screws because we had a large boxful on hand, they're strong, and the heads are less likely to strip when driving them in. Four-inch screws also let me grab the studs in the wall that were buried under what I discovered were layers and layers of plaster, drywall, old furring strips and paneling, and more drywall. Probably the walls in this house are a lot different from yours.

View from the left end.

Now, this lovely assembly looked exactly like these two images for about a year before any further progress was made. I installed the living room floor, but took no steps, short or otherwise, toward completing the project. Then we learned that Mr. Vagabond’s family planned to visit us in August. Yikes! Along with everything else that had to be done, I really wanted this thing finished when they arrived. Mr. V. asked what my top priorities were, and I saddled him with this, among several other things. Good thing he’s a good sport. 

View from the right end.

In the next image, Mr. V. is doing a test fit for the front and back “walls” of the window seat. They were built, raised, leveled and fastened the same as you would frame up a wall in your house, just smaller. Each section consisted of one horizontal board across the top and bottom, and short vertical boards across the width which serve as miniature studs. You might notice that the framework at the right end of the book case is awfully short. That’s because I changed my mind (I do that), and wanted book cases instead of ceiling-to-floor cabinets. Because the foundation was much too deep for book cases, we decided on two short cabinets at each end of the window seat with a book case on top of each cabinet. 

I’m skipping past the part where he measured the foundation that I built, shook his head and told me that he loved me. Several times. He said that with a heavy sigh, and sometimes a chuckle. He also laughed at my use of salvaged lumber, but did have to agree that there was no sense to be found in buying new 2 x 4s to use where they would never be seen. 

This is day-1. Errr, night-1

While I was out of the room, he decided that he didn’t like my wall cleat, and planned a new height and configuration for the window seat. It didn’t occur to me until later (too late) that he wasn’t using my carefully-planned seat height measurements, and was instead working with his own height in mind. My feet dangle off the edge of the window seat now. I’m considering building a step.

Standard chair seat height is approximately 18 - 20 inches, by the way. Most chairs are about 18 inches deep, too, but I like to sit sideways. The finished depth became about 2 feet, which lets me do that comfortably. 

In the next photo, we had built both walls and set them upright on the foundation. We found the straightest board that we owned (which is hard to do when shopping at Lowe’s, lemme tell ya), laid the board as a bridge across the top of both walls, front to back, and set the level on top of the board. Ordinarily, you’d use a 4-foot level, but ours was in the garage, which is at the back 40 of the property, and it was dark. And there is no electricity in the garage. Because we have never found a single floor in the whole house that is level, we had to shim up the framework. Only then were we able to fasten the whole thing together. 

Never underestimate the importance of building things level, square and plumb. 

The next photo was taken at the end of the first day. We had spent most of the day at Lowe’s, so we got a late start. Day-2 held a lot more progress.

Little Sinner in the way helping.

Gypsy made her own progress, taking advantage of the fact that Mama and Dada were otherwise occupied. I caught her turning a board into toothpicks on the sofa. People think that I exaggerate when I tell them about the things that she does. By the time we’d worked all of one day, she’d torn several small holes in the sofa. Oh well. I wanted to bring my awesome old vintage sofa downstairs anyway.

Not the most normal dog on Earth.

At the end of the first day, we wondered what we'd gotten ourselves into. That's pretty much a theme around here. We also realized that our $600 budget was about to be tested. Although we purchased much more materials than we thought we'd need, things almost never go as planned. We made at least five more trips to Lowe's, and at least as many to the liquor store. 

Next week, Part II


XOXO

Sad Buried Treasure in a Victorian Bedroom

People like me, who live for restoring and cautiously updating old houses, also live for the hidden treasure. Treasure found inside old houses is usually devoid of any monetary value, but the sentimental value can be off the charts. Recently, while uncovering an old, hidden closet in my bedroom, Mr. Vagabond and I discovered something we truly didn't expect.


But lets begin at the beginning.


My bedroom was once covered in 70s paneling. Ugh. The original plaster walls were assaulted by furring strips which were used to hold the paneling nails. In my mind, repairing the plaster is much easier than installing paneling, but what do I know? The result of the odious paneling was this:

Don't get me started on that ceiling.

While Mr. Vagabond was out of town for a couple weeks, I took it upon my self to rip out the paneling. That was fun, especially the part where I opened the bedroom window and slid the panels down the old metal roof over the kitchen and into the backyard. When Mr. Vagabond returned home, he was not amused. You see, in his mind paneling was at least a finished wall. In my mind, it was offensive and had to go. 


For the next two years, we lived with really ugly plaster walls that were in serious disrepair. So maybe he was right about having finished walls. He can be right one time. Pfft. 


Because the bedroom isn't a place where we invite our neighbors, it's also low in terms of critical finishing needs. Several months ago, we decided to finally uncover the old closet that was boarded up and convert it into a book case. The things inside would blow your mind. These people actually walled over medicine bottles, shoes and a pair of little boys underwear (WORN!). Ahhh, the treasure in an old house. I do not have photographic proof. You'll have to take my word for it. 

So anyway, on we went with gutting the closet. 

We stuck foam board against the exterior wall until we put insulation inside. Also, why is one of my baseboards and a bed frame in there? The world may never know. 

In the wall to the right of the closet, we succumbed to the pressure of drywall. I know, I know. But desperate times called for desperate measures. In other words, the plaster on that wall had fairly turned to sand. It was bad. Really bad. I can repair most any plaster that is still somewhat sound, but I was not prepared to tackle replastering a whole wall in the middle of March.


One very interesting thing I noticed after unboarding the closet was the 2-by-4 they installed as a brace. I guess measuring tapes were too much to deal with since it was approximately 1 inch too long for the space. It bowed out and curved to the right. :facepalm:  At least the header was in no danger of falling! 


I'm getting to the treasure part. 


The day we worked on this closet, the whole room was filled with old soot from the fireplace that was long since removed and what seemed like 100 years of dust, dirt and old crumbling wallpaper. While sweeping up, I looked down at my feet and saw something strange. It was a small book. I asked Mr. Vagabond if he'd noticed it before, but he hadn't. 


This book seemingly materialized dead center in the pile of dust, dirt and wallpaper. 

Initially, the book was almost black. I carefully dusted it off to read the cover.

Scholar's Monthly Reports. Neato!


I remember those things from back in the long ago before today's report cards. I quickly opened it. 

Ella Whittier!  We have a name! 1925. Amazing.

The remaining pages showed me that little Ella was perhaps more focused on other things besides silly old schooling.

Sewell Whittier must have been little Ella's father

Alas, little Ella was retained in the fifth grade.

Finding this book sparked my curiosity, of course. I've got mad research skills, so I put them to work and turned up some interesting facts.


The first bit of information is difficult and sad. 


I lifted this from the October 7, 1926 edition of the Rockwood Times:


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October 7, 1926

THIRTEEN BODIES REMOVED FROM MINE

SEWELL WHITTIER FOUND BEHIND PILE OF COAL ------------------- Many Funerals Yesterday and Today 14 Bodies Remain in Entry Fire Not Encountered --------------------

The body of S.P. Whittier was found this morning about 10:00 o'clock by helmet men behind a pile of coal in his room off Rodgers entry and was brought to the surface at 2:00 this afternoon. A search of Whittier's place last night failed to disclose the body, which was entirely concealed and which was finally traced from its odor. It is said that the body was not badly torn or mangled. --------------------

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Chills ran through me, as they do again while I write this. Little Ella's father was killed in a mine explosion only months after he signed her Scholar Report for the last time. 


More research revealed that Mr. Whittier left behind a wife and six children. 


But the sun does come out, even on sad revelations. Even more research (I told you I am a research whiz) uncovered more information about Miss Ella. 


I found this at a local mortuary:
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Mrs. Ola “Punkin” Rowley, age 68 of Walnut Street, Spring City passed away Wednesday, July 8, 2009 at Baptist West Hospital in Knoxville.  Mrs. Rowley, who was of the Baptist faith, was born April 21, 1941 in Rockwood to Arnold Franklin & Ella Katherine Whittier Gibson.  Besides her parents she was preceded in death by a sister, Ruby Sexton Gaylardo; and a brother, Jack J. Gibson. 
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Miss Ella went on to apparently have a very full life. She was married to Arnold Franklin, had seven children (according to Ola's funeral notice), and several grandchildren. I haven't dug any more to learn about other relatives.


Reading Ola's funeral notice really put the time thing into perspective. Ella's school report was dated 1925, and she was in fifth grade. Her daughter died in 2009 at the age of 68.


Each time I hear some strange noise in the house, I wonder if Sewell is rustling about. He was clearly gone before his time. Lots of folks talk about disrupting or unsettling spirits when an old house is undergoing renovations. If that is true, and if Sewell does stop by occasionally, I can only think that he's happy with what we're doing. 


Who knows what will turn up in the rest of the house. I did find a little hidden floor panel / trap door in one of the bedrooms...