Chandlerville - Part 2
Regular readers will know my dream to build a house in my backyard moved to a new stage in early October when the City issued the permits for my laneway suite. If you missed that exciting and long-awaited news, be sure to catch up here.
Since then, I’ve been deciding how to make this space reflect the person I am. I would be lying if I said this isn’t daunting. Typically, when we move, we more or less accept the finishings of the previous owner, at least we did when we got this house. My dad once suggested people who move should accepted the finishings, the furnishings, and everything else of the previous owner. His view: it’s just stuff and we all have basically the same complement.
But my dad was not typical. As though it has its own mind, space morphs over time to reflect the events of our lives: a new framed photo lands on the credenza, initially as a birthday gift from a friend displayed temporarily but then it just stays; a candle that was too cute to not buy ends up on a side table; two unread books grows to 10, requiring their own shelf; and so on. Along the way, we find the time and energy to paint, upgrade furniture, and otherwise improve things. It’s iterative, comforting for someone like me who prefers evolution over revolution.
This exercise is not that. At all. Sure, I’m taking my favourite pieces from the house but I have to make a thousand decisions now about how I might want to live in six months, a year, and 10 years from now. It’s a lot.
I started with the kitchen. Priority one - order appliances to avoid any problems with supply chain. Given the minimal space I’ve got to play with there are very few options. For me, that’s a good thing. One call to the local appliance store and I got an on-budget quote for fridge, stove, dishwasher, washer, and dryer, all Lilliputian in size compared to what I have now and absolutely adequate for anything I will ever do. Ordered, deposit paid. Done.
Then to the kitchen designer where, with the help of a friend, I put together a gorgeous combo of mustard and white cupboards, grey countertop, and black pulls and knobs. I’m awaiting the design now, but feel confident the gadgets and doodads inserted within the cupboards and drawers will make the small space function the way I need.
In parallel, I’ve been sourcing lighting. I’ve always loved pendants but never had the ceiling height to enjoy them. A day of shopping in the Junction and Castlefield areas of Toronto made me realize what I like is not cheap. I fell in love with vintage art deco pendants for $600 each which is actually not out of line, but I knew I could do better price-wise. Facebook marketplace, my favourite place to sell stuff, has quickly become my go-to for buying too and I scored a similar set of three pendants for $50 each. But my showpiece is surely the 1970s fixture featuring orange and lemon slices. Can’t wait to get that baby hanging above my kitchen, lighting the way through fabulous meals to come. I’ve also settled on some bits of kitchen backsplash and bathroom flooring my contractor has leftover from other jobs. Sometimes less choice is the better choice for me.
Beyond finishings, I’ve also met the requirements (I hope) of the tree permit, the source of much teeth-gnashing and many rants to anyone who would listen. My property borders a park and there are three mature trees - one honey locust and two Norway pines - near enough to the garage that the city had some concerns. I like trees. I consider myself a relatively environmental person. Indeed, one of the significant advantages of this project is it will reduce my environmental footprint.
So when the young city parks planner said: “hey, you gotta be careful with our trees.”
I replied, “Yeah, I get that, I do.”
Their concern began with the canopy covering the portion of the garage where I will have a second storey. It then moved to the underground. Although I will not have a basement, the garage will be supported with some columns, the pouring of which could disrupt the root systems. Because of this, Chandlerville got sidetracked in the summer with the need for an arborist report - and then an arborist report re-write - to satisfy the city. I didn’t object to any of it, although I admit the request for a re-write was highly tedious. When, however, I was hit with a $24K (yes, you read that right) tree deposit requirement, I was a bit cross. I completely respect - indeed support - the city’s right to take a deposit to guard against unscrupulous developers hacking down trees for convenience. But let’s face it: a large developer would consider $24K the cost of doing business - if the trees died, meh, who cares? I, on the other hand, found the $24K disproportionate with a significant impact on my short-term cashflow. Having no choice, I paid it, and am fervently hoping that none of my tree-neighbours suffer during the construction. My contractor put up the hoardings to protect the trees as required, and I’ve had Karma Tree (seemed the right name for me) come do the pruning. So fun to watch!
While I’ve been chipping away at these things, my contractor has taken more obvious steps. When I heard the sound of power tools coming from the garage on Monday, they were like the opening bars of a Beethoven symphony echoing through my house: important majestic sounds, a prelude to more important and exciting things to follow. On Tuesday, I was excited to find a bobcat parked behind my garage and even more thrilled when a port-a-potty arrived. Friday, however, I watched like a spellbound 10 year old as they moved the bobcat into the backyard proper. Full confession: throughout COVID, as I’ve watched other construction projects in the neighbourhood, I imagined how fun it would be to operate a baby backhoe. So I asked, and they agreed, even to being my photographer. Certainly a career I can consider falling back on if I can’t find new work in the new year! Things are ready now for the trenching to begin next week, allowing Chandlerville to tap into the house water and sewage services, more tangible evidence of this thing becoming real.
This project started as a strictly personal one: a way I can enjoy my yard long-term, take up less space, make rental income off my asset, and age in place. And all that is still valid. But now that I’ve gone public with it, I’ve learned so many are interested in how they might do something similar. My first blog post has been read more than anything else on my website, by quite a margin. Because of it, I’ve been asked to join a panel discussion this week on the future of the community of Weston. I am absolutely no planner and therefore can’t really offer any technical expertise; indeed, I’ve been thinking the world needs someone with doulah skills to help birth these micro-developments. Despite this, my experience has clearly got others thinking. This will not solve the housing crisis, but as with any other societal problems, the solution is many-pronged, and must involve creating more infill housing. Interested in knowing more? Contact me. I’d love to chat.
Read more about Chandlerville - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, and Part 6.
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