Yesterday I took a bath.

For the past fourteen years I’ve been living in Vancouver’s Coal Harbour; between Stanley Park and the Westin Bayshore Hotel. It’s utopia, the land of million dollar condos and modest little mega-yachts. I’d regularly travel the seawall and Stanley Park in my wheelchair. Where other people jogged the seawall I wheeled it, and aggressively. It was the only way I could really exercise and take everything in -the rhododendrons, the cherry blossoms, the finely manicured boxwoods, some old growth forest, the beaches and views to the mountains and the islands. I loved this part of Vancouver and claimed it as my own.

I had to give it up though. It was time I lived as a regular person. It was time I moved off our beleaguered old sailboat because walking down the dock was getting too dangerous for me, and it was time I moved into something resembling a house.

Hubby was working in Saskatoon. He told me it was the land of hope and promise. The economy was faring well and it would be a good place to invest in property. “We could buy a house,” he said.

‘A house’, I thought. I’ve been living and dreaming houses since I was ten years old. To renovate a worn out old classic and bring it back to its glory would be an absolute dream.

I’m incredibly lucky because the architectural design of houses is what I do for a living. The only thing is while I may have control of what goes on the plans, once they’re drawn up and printed I have no say.

If I could practice my art on my own home –make all the decisions from the layout, to the details like the colour and style of switch plates, I’d move anywhere. I had never been to Saskatchewan but growing up in Edmonton I knew plenty about snow and mosquitoes. For the sake of an old house to reno I was willing to move in amongst them.

Hubby told me I’d like the place. “There’s lots of heritage homes by the university,” he explained while I was teetering on the boat as a wind gust blew through. I sat down at the helm’s table –a two foot wide counter surrounded by navigation devises, and I thought ‘navigation’, where the heck am I going?

I found a realty site online and immediately happened upon the house we bought in Buena Vista. It’s 1920’s vintage, kind of an ugly ducking and certainly in need of a makeover.

Hubby’s now been in the house for a year and I came in February. I told myself I
could tough out the cold. Every evening I could bathe in luxury simply by soaking in a hot bath. That I’ve been without and pining for for a mere fourteen years.

The first day in the house I poured myself a glass of wine, got undressed, turned on the tap and crawled into the old tub. I love everything antique and laid back thinking, “This is it. This is incredible -me actually reno-ing a house with an old cast iron clawfoot tub, and it’s all mine.”

I was in there maybe ten minutes and hubby called out, “Turn off the tap! The tub is leaking into the basement!”

We no longer have that tub. From then on bathing meant going down into the unfinished basement and showering in one of those tiny pre-fab cubicles of a shower stall. There’s no adjustment in the showerhead. Water sprays onto my shoulders and head and for the rest of me, I just hope that the water trickles down my body in all the right places. The hand-held shower I had to use on the boat was far preferable to this.

All summer long hubby and I have been stripping and rebuilding the upper floor of the house, an attic/half story. It’s to be the master suite. One comes up the stairs on the back end of the house and that’s where the walk-in closet and dressing area will be. Beyond that is the ensuite and on the front end of the house is the actual bedroom.

With the limited space and the sloping walls it makes for an interesting configuration and one has to walk through the bathroom to get to the bed. With this in mind the bathroom has to be a place where one can enjoy, get rejuvenated, and the toilet certainly needs some privacy.

Yesterday the toilet was installed in its own cubicle and we carried up our brand new mail order clawfoot tub. When we opened up the crate and I first saw it I thought it was really small. I thought it was to be two foot eight inches wide and not the 28 inches it really is. I wondered why they’d make it so narrow but soon found out. We had to take off all the doors to get it though the house. Had it been a quarter inch wider it wouldn’t have fit. Thank you Vintage Bath. It was also light enough for the two of us to carry it up the stairs.

Hubby installed it, tested it and told me, “Your bath is waiting.”

Last night I took my first bath. It was Saskatoon’s first snow and I laid back in the new antique-like tub with all the lights off. I looked out to the sky above. There’s darkness and there’s light I thought. Through the patches of snow on the skylight I saw the moon and the twinkling of a few stars. This is paradise. And it’s certainly been a long time coming.

Then I heard sawing directly below the bathtub. Hubby hollered up, “I hear a leak! Gotta check the pipes!”

Could this be paradise lost? With all the pipes now exposed he found no signs of water. “Let’s hope it was just the expansion and contraction of pipes,” he said.

Before I get too comfortable with this new way of life in Saskatoon –a house with a clawfoot bathtub and all, I guess I’ll have to be a little cautious. Someone just might sneak in and pull the plug on me.

For now, I’ll take it for what it is, a househugger’s reno dream coming true.

Bathroom Reno nearing completion

Bathroom design has always been intriguing to me and maybe that's because everything is so close up. It’s so intimate, so personal.

At long last I get to take the design of a bathroom a lot further than in my work. In my work I do the layout -the architecture- and that's it. With this house and this bathroom it's cabinetry design, tile work, lighting, colour selection and fixture choices. All of the design is mine!



The house was built in 1926 and remodeled back in the 80’s. The bathroom probably looked good for that time but it certainly needed some updating. Everything was stripped out and the only things to remain were the wall and window locations.
Even the toilet drain moved. The toilet used to be two inches too close to the side wall and an old claw-foot tub came in on the other side. This left a space so tight some bigger folk might find themselves lodged between the wall and the rim of the tub, stuck.

I cherish old antiquated things and I cherish bathtubs. After living on a sailboat for fourteen years where bathing meant hooking up a hand-held shower onto the bathroom sink, then having to wipe down the room when done, I was certainly looking forward to taking long luxurious bubble baths. One quick bath was all I got. The drain leaked.

Now a 48”x32” shower base sits in its place. It fits the room better, but to make it work the bathroom door had to be shifted over.

While I was in Vancouver this August Mr. Handyman stripped everything out. He installed a new toilet, moved the door over, put in the plumbing and electrical, installed the shower pan, then dry-walled and taped. When I returned I helped him paint, then mount the cabinet and counter.












Work has continued and it often seems that we're close to completing the bathroom, but we're not. On that list right now:
-install and paint baseboard, picture rail, wall and door trim.
-design and build a frame for a mirror.
-paint the old lamp that was at the front door and mount it over the sink (I like that we can reuse.)
-build and install doors for the cabinets. (maybe we'll start that this week).
-buy and install towel bars and such.
-tile floor and shower.
-touch-up painting.
-Lastly I hope is to install a shower door.

As each step is completed there’s a feeling of pride and accomplishment. The house is filled with construction debris and boxes of supplies are piled up under the two china cabinets. The attic is currently being mudded and drywall dust covers the furniture in every room. I don't mind any of this. And with another reno going across the street the sound of saws and drills is non-stop. This is like music to my ears. It seems I'm certainly at home doing reno work.

A few weeks ago I had surrender the BC plates on my car and get a Saskatchewan driver’s license. This broke my heart big time. Saskatoon is nice and all but it’s not Vancouver. I’ll admit I sulked for a few days, then Mr. Handyman was successful in cheering me up. He mounted the trim around the bathroom window and I was smiling again.

This bathroom has become my sanctuary. All the wood detailing, the lines, the shadows, the white on white, and that faucet, all of it is so pleasing to my eye.











That tap, now that it’s installed, turns out to be rather titillating for me. I like that it looks new and old at the same time and it’s not something you’d find at your local hardware store. Every time I look at it I see something else -something rather firm, possibly a tap of another kind, something one might like to run their fingers over. When I sit on the toilet with my pants down I smile at it. Then I stand and wash my hands clean of those thoughts. I'm wondering, does anyone else see it?


This front door is my exit -I was able to fix it up enough to stain to match the fireplace (see last posting). I'm proud to say it’s looking really good.

Bye-Bye!

Work in progress -Fireplace, windows and doors.

Here's the fireplace before we bought the house.
We stripped the old brick out. That's all there was, just the brick, then we put in a mini-sized gas fireplace and built a surround for it.

This is it today -still waiting to put the tiles on the cement board. On the top left hand side there are some colors painted on the wall, various shades of pale dusty yellowish white. One of those will be the paint color for the living room while the trim, which is now this dreadful pinky-mauve, will be painted a true white.

The old windows were single pane with storm windows 'buttoned' on to the outside of them.

New windows were installed in March.
This is the same window but new and as seen from the outside.

On the weekend I stripped the front door. On the outside it was stain and varnish and on the inside it was mauve on green on yellow on white. Not too bad for an 85 year old door. It took me four full days though and it still needs work. If I can clean it up enough I'll stain both sides of the door to match the fireplace.


Here's the next door I have to do. It's just inside the front door where the previous owner's dogs clawed at it.

Fortunately there's a cat guarding that door now.

More pictures to come. The attic is almost boarded. The West exterior wall is painted and the main floor bathroom is looking great. Back to work.

Taking it for Granted

If I was to choose between living on a sailboat in Vancouver or living in and renovating an old broken down house in Saskatoon I’m not sure which one I’d choose so I’m doing both. I’m sitting in that sailboat right now and like the house in Saskatoon it needs work. This work I’m not up to though.

Carrying stuff from the car to the boat is a challenge for me because walking is getting to be more difficult. Last time here I took a couple of serious falls and bashed up my face pretty good. Since returning to Vancouver the marine community, who last saw me with two black eyes, has rallied around going out of their way to help me out and this I am truly grateful for.

The deal right now in Saskatoon is the bathroom on the main floor of our old house is to be in working order before I return. I can tough out a lot of things but going down the stairs at night to the loo while I’m half asleep is not one of them. Yesterday the hubby, Mr. Handyman, was ripping out T&G 1x6 planks -the bathroom subfloor. This room is being gutted so that the walls can be used to bring the plumbing, venting and electrical from the attic –which is to be the master bedroom- to the basement.

To our surprise knob and tube is running most of the electrical. Not for long though. It’s on its way out.

Before I left we had the attic stripped down to the floor joists and the roof joists exposed. Found a big structural defect. Roof load from a projecting gable was being supported on 2x4's on the flat. That may have been how things were done when the house was built but the interesting thing was that the bottom 2x4 was really two 2x4’s with their ends butted together. See picture. There was nothing like a joist hanger holding them together. No nails. Nothing. The floor at that break had sunk down an inch in its 85 year lifepan. Someday I feared it was going to collapse onto my precious table in the dining room below.

Mr Handyman and I were soon arguing about the best way to deal with this defect. He said with a beam and I said, “No way. That means stripping the ceiling and walls below so cripple studs and a beam can be put in. Let’s go with a lintel right there under the point load.”

It turns out we were both talking about the same thing. Terminology; my lintel was his beam.

Then while he discusses the studs lying in the floor –studs are in the walls and joists are in the floor- I talk about going upstairs to the basement.

We fixed up the roof load, got the plumbing and electrical roughed in and the new subfloor nailed in place. The day I left we marked out all the new walls for the attic and now I eagerly wait to erect those walls. Visiting houses in lock-up stage is the ultimate time for me. With the studs unencumbered by decor a house shows its true potential.

One of my favourite things about living in Saskatoon is getting all the home shows on cable. On the boat it’s TV by antennae and that’s it. Since being out on the flatlands I haven’t watched the news once but I could tell you about each and every show on HGTV and DIY.

Last week I was watching ‘Flipping Vegas’ and I thought, man that could be me doing renovations in HGTV-land. As I was stretched out on the sofa dreaming about doing the house in Vegas the hubby was upstairs making a racket tearing the old chimney down. It was a struggle but eventually I went up to assist.

Saskatoon is lovely, particularly on the tree-lined streets of Buena Vista and Nutana. There are quaint charming old homes with lace curtains in the windows, welcoming front porches and gable end details that excite me.
The people are warm and friendly, although they don’t all seem to think the same as people in my neck of the woods. While we were in the back alley loading construction debris into the trailer Mr. H. introduced me to a neighbour passing by; a respectable looking man, mid-fifties maybe. After saying our hellos the man said to me, “I hear you’re a house designer. It must make you feel really good to help your husband with his reno.”

I replied rather quickly. I smiled and said, “It’s really more like I appreciate his help with my reno.”

I tell myself this is my reno. Fixing up an old house was the only way I was going to move to Saskatoon. If one was to give me a brand new swanky house there I’d walk away. That’s what the hubby was talking about when he suggested the move. For the sake of our 1926 ramshackle of a house I will stay. I will renovate. I will turn the neglected abode into a classic charmer. Fixing up old houses has always been my dream.

Vancouver is truly my home but to get a house comparable in a similar neighborhood would cost a million. That's before any reno and that's no exaggeration. This has left me no choice but to live my dream through my work -doing reno plans and designing new houses for others. Or going to Saskatoon. I tell myself that someday I’ll be fixing up my very own big old house in Vancouver. Someday soon. That I have to take for granted.

Looking for a bit of ambiance.

The coffee shop where I used to go to write was on Vancouver’s waterfront, right across from Coal Harbour Marina. I’d sit at the window and watch people from all parts of the world stroll by admiring the beautiful views of my beloved Vancouver.

This picture was taken on my last visit there.

How was I ever going to find something of equal caliber in Saskatoon? Sure there’s Tim Hortons every few blocks and while the coffee tastes great it’s certainly not a place I’d go to sit for hours and write.

Two days ago I was touring the Varsity View neighbourhood and happened upon a little coffee shop where there’s free parking next to the building. That’s big for me because I have some problems walking. I came back today and the place is a delightful surprise. Not only is it a quaint little café, it’s an art gallery that currently features paintings of some classic old houses.

I’ve taken a seat where there’s beautiful handcrafted glass ornaments in the window, vibrant paintings on the walls and the view outside is just my cup of tea. There are big old trees lining the snow covered streets and there’s one heritage home after another. Does this match the coffee shop charm of Vancouver? I struggle to admit it, but yes. It certainly does.

We're in. Work has begun.

I have arrived. It's cold, minus twenty Celsius. It's bleak, but inside this classic house it's warm and charming.

Our first project was to achieve warmth and so we installed a new furnace and hot water tank. That was done while I was here on a visit in December. My hubby, Mr. Handyman, had already moved in. He'd been working in Saskatoon since August and so he was able to prepare the basement. Lots of dirty work was left for me though, like stripping the floor joists of historic cobwebs and the remnants of knob and tube wiring. In one room it's still active.

A little bit of dirt had never hurt anyone and it made taking a long bath seem like paradise.


I sure looked forward to a good long soak in the old tub but that soak ended pretty quickly. Water soon began leaking down through the floor. While in the bathroom I went to open the cupboard door and the hardware broke off. The antique tub is now used to store broken down hardware and cleaning rags. I'm forced to shower downstairs and that's a compromise I can make because warmth and plenty of warm water are things I'm grateful for.

The boat -where I used to live- is heated by a diesel stove and it hadn't been working properly for a few months. With this, the boat would be about sixteen Celsius and that's nippy when the air is as humid as it is. In January it got colder -a clogged stove pipe was the cause- and the only heat available was from this little electric heater purchased at Canadian Tire. I told myself this discomfort was toughening me up for the freezing temperatures of the prairies. I did struggle to see the positive of it.

I had never been to Saskatoon, nor anywhere in Saskatchewan, before the visit when we put the offer on the house. Mr. Handyman had been working here and suggested that we consider buying a house, merely for investment purposes of course. The economy is booming he claimed, and buying any house in a sought after neighbourhood in Vancouver is impossible for us, while in Saskatoon it's doable. Therefore we did.

Every time while on a heritage home tour, as in New Westminster, Port Townsend and Vancouver, I'd walk through each house enamoured and longing, even envious of the home owners. How I wanted the classic styling, the old wood trim board, plastered walls, old creaky wood floors and the tarnished hardware. I wanted the whole package.




The biggest thrill for me touring our home for the first time wasn't the ample space -a bedroom that isn't a cubbyhole with a built-in bed and a kitchen with a fridge and not an icebox. No, it was the vent covers, the door hardware, and a corner of a bedroom where the old wood floor, plaster walls and painted trim board all came together. When I saw this meeting of the old I knew this was the perfect house.


At long last I have arrived.

A House Hugger’s Dream Come True

I’ll be giving up my eccentric lifestyle in order to fulfill a life-long dream. I’ll be giving up living aboard a sailboat that’s moored in amongst Vancouver’s million dollar condos. There’ll be no more rowing the dinghy to Stanley Park, no more laundromats, and no more cooking on a hotplate as the kitchen sways in the wind.

All this will be relinquished for the sake of a house. Soon it will be my husband - the ultimate handyman- and I –more of the artistic type (and a house designer), teamed up to renovate a rickety old house that needs heaps of work. The only catch is . . . the house is in Saskatoon.

Stay tuned for house updates –maybe lifestyle and climate updates too.
Margaret