Getting Ideas Out of My Head

There are a lot of things to do in this house, and we've only just begun to scrape the surface of what needs doing. But, as with all my projects, I've started with a huge pile of notes. Notes help focus my thinking - when I have a project bouncing around in my head, I can't stop thinking about it until I write it down. Sometimes, it means that I just stop thinking about that project, either because I've written a complete plan, or because it's no longer worrying me. Other times, I keep thinking about it, and return again and again to my notes, eventually ending up with sometime amazing. Often, I'll just delete (or throw away) my notes, because whatever was worrying me at the time was really not all that important - but I didn't realize that until I wrote it all down.


It's the Little Things

Well. Today, very little happened, but quite a few things happened. The biggest progress move is - Andrew's switchplates arrived! He'll be busy for awhile replacing every ugly plastered switchplate in the house with the new brass covers. The biggest personal move is: we finally have internet. AT&T just had issues with the house being so old, and having not been occupied for so long. Andrew had a choice of putting DSL through the Library (current boys' bedroom) or the room directly above - his room. He made the best long-term move and put it upstairs. Of course, this means that until he can make the wireless router downstairs connect, there is no direct internet for the PCs on the first floor. Also of course, in the long-term, this won't be an issue as he will feed the network cable down from his room through the alcove into the downstairs. Networking IS a priority to make this place 21st century.


Welcome to Brass Peregrine!

A blog dedicated to documenting the renovation of our beautiful Victorian home

As manner of introduction, I'll start with a short biography of my wife and I.

My name is Andrew. I grew up in Kansas in a sprawling pier-and-beam house; it was ugly, badly laid out, and wonderful. My parents (with help from myself and my siblings, as we grew older) renovated the entire building - not just paint and plaster, mind you, but moving entire kitchens, restoring wood floors, and even building on a complete addition in later years. I helped my dad with plumbing, my mom with gardening, and my siblings with staying out of trouble (ha!). I held up drywall as it was attached to the ceiling, helped lay shingles when we re-roofed, and crawled around under the house when we ran a new sewer line. It was, all in all, an experience I wouldn't trade for the world.

My wife, Lindsay, grew up in a few different houses; her dad, like mine, liked to work with his hands. Lindsay wasn't as involved as I, perhaps, but she experienced first hand what it was to make a house your own. She can't stand to visit her old neighborhood because of how the house looks today. She lived in Ohio, in a city where the average age of homes in the area was older than the average age of the inhabitants by a few decades, and gained a fondness for older homes. We met in college, got married, and now have two wonderful boys that keep us on our toes every waking moment, and quite a few sleeping moments as well.