Chapter 3. Farm To Table To Tastebuds #3
Collin was at the gym, working out with some buddies.
While I missed having time with him, I knew that keeping in shape could be critical to him staying safe on the job.
Who knew when he might have to engage in hand-to-hand combat or chase down a murder suspect?
Besides, I had the other love of my life with me.
Sawdust lay draped across my lap as I doodled on graph paper, erasing and moving lines as better ideas for the loft apartments popped into my mind.
We’d add a steel frame to reinforce the wooden frame already in place.
While steel was more expensive initially, it had much greater longevity than wood and would save maintenance and repair costs down the road.
To retain as much of the current exterior as possible, I decided it would be best to install glass in the hayloft door so that it could provide natural light to the foyer.
We’d install new barn doors at either end of the building, and use the center aisle as a hallway from which the apartments would be entered.
As a nod to the barn’s former life as a livery stable, each of the ten apartments would incorporate the footprint of two adjacent twelve-by-twelve stalls.
The loft area would be shallow, a little less than nine feet deep once the wall dividing the units was installed, but it would be twenty-four feet wide, allowing residents to use some of the loft space for a home office or workout equipment.
It would also allow plenty of room for a large walk-in closet.
The trapdoors in the hayloft floor presented an easy access point to the lofts.
Steep, ladderlike stairs would fit the look while taking up little space on the lower floor.
The high ceilings provided the perfect vertical space for tall kitchen cabinets and a stackable washer-dryer set.
The kitchens would lean into the barn’s identity, with farmhouse sinks, butcherblock countertops, and rustic wagon wheel light fixtures.
The flooring throughout would be wood, of course.
Same for the walls. To ensure the space wouldn’t be too dark, the walls would be painted a light pastel color, maybe a sage green or a classic robin’s egg blue.
To use the limited space efficiently, the bathrooms would have walk-in showers, no tubs.
The bathroom tile would have a natural stone look, and light fixtures would be bronze and resemble the oil lanterns used for lighting two centuries ago, the type I’d seen in the hayloft.
The faucets would also be bronze, in a style that looked like the old-fashioned hand pump at the homesite.
Now, for the exterior. My first thought was that white paint with touches of gray here and there would give the barn a refresh while maintaining its old-fashioned appeal, but then I decided it would be more fun to stick with a classic red.
We’d install plate glass in the stall windows so there’d be no panes to break up the view of the beautiful grounds.
White shutters would pop against the red background.
A small gravel driveway out front would provide ample parking and maintain a rural feel.
I drafted quick sketches for an outdoor kitchen and entertainment area on the site of the old house and chimney. After some thought, I decided to leave the riverfront entirely natural. Sometimes, you can’t improve on what Mother Nature has built.
As I worked, I listened to another of Tyler’s podcasts, an interesting piece about the rise of telemedicine during the Covid pandemic and its remaining popularity afterward.
He interviewed patients and doctors who were all for it, saying it saved time and money, and allowed doctors to treat more patients.
But he also spoke with medical professionals who considered a virtual visit inadequate and feared telemedicine could lead to a misdiagnosis.
Tyler did a good job of fairly presenting the facts and arguments, while leaving the listener free to form their own opinion.
By the time the podcast was over, my eyes felt grainy.
I’d need to create clean copies of the designs without all the erasures, but not tonight.
Tomorrow, I planned to help my uncle Roger, Buck, and my other cousin Owen install a deck at a house in Brentwood.
The client had chosen a herringbone style for the boards, which would be beautiful but much more time consuming as it required making careful angled cuts of the boards.
But I could work on producing a clean copy of the barn design afterward.
The front door opened and in walked Collin, decked out in athletic shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers.
“Good workout?” I called.
He rolled his shoulders. “Bench pressed five pounds more than last time. It’s not much, but I’ll take the W.” He dropped his gym bag on the floor next to the door, and walked into the kitchen. He looked down at the design I’d been working on. “Does this sketch mean you’re buying the barn?”
“Not exactly.” I told him about the arrangement we’d made with Gail Pittman and why.
“Wow,” he said. “It’s a big responsibility to work on a property with such an important history.”
I’d be more nervous if I didn’t know Buck and I were up to the task, that we would pour our blood, sweat, and tears into the property, too.
“I’m going to grab a shower,” Collin said. “Meet me on the couch in ten minutes for a foot rub?”
“It’s a date.”