In the Waiting Line

(Zero Seven, 2006)

Still there? I’d forgive you for tuning out; this has not exactly been compulsive viewing recently. We have however been inching forwards. Nothing radical, rather things gradually coming together.

First and foremost, we have now agreed a plan with the architects. Not The Plan of what the house will become - that’s still work in progress. But we do now know what timeframe we are all aiming for. Of course, dependent on any number of surprise delays (which I will do my damndest to prevent). All going to plan, it will be:

• 20 December 2010: New version of the house plans & drawings



• February 2011: Submission of planning application



• April 2011: Selecting contractors



• August 2011: Works start



• March 2012: Works completed
  

There are also various sub-stages before these can happen. Little administrative tests of our mettle, like obtaining a number of vital pieces of paper from people like “Monsieur le Receveur de l'Enregistrement” and the “Direction régional du cadastre mutations et expertises”. Belgian administration: you will not defeat us so easily. Formal requests to these dark and dusty corners of Belgian administrania have duly been sent off, in three languages in duplicate by owl, and we now await their replies.


Second, after all these months of mulling, we now have a pretty good idea of what we want to do in terms of renovations. So no more bright ideas from anyone else at this stage, thanks. More on that in due course when we talk about The Plans...

Third, we have also decided what we are going to do in terms of energy efficiency. Eh? Yes, for those of you still shivering in the dark ages with single glazing and electric heaters, it’s an important consideration that should be factored in at the beginning of any renovation or building work. Not least because the Brussels region provides quite a big financial incentive for your renovation to meet certain criteria. So ours will be a “low energy” house, consuming less than 60 kWh/m²/ year. Which means an extra subsidy of potentially up to €20.000. How will we manage that without losing the house’s 1898 charm? Aha, you’ll have to wait and see…

Take Two

It’s been a month since the last post and the initial excitement over the architects’ first plans. So what progress have we made since? Good question, I was asking myself the same thing.

First and foremost, we have a decision. A big decision which we decided together. And that decision is not to put the kitchen in the basement. I won’t bore you with the arguments for and against (not least because it would sound one-sided…).

Suffice to say that this means that we will not be i) separating the kitchen from the rest of the living space (so keeping the cook happy), ii) demolishing the lovely mosaic hallway and perfectly good staircase to the cellar to build a new set of stairs; iii) avoiding what little sunlight we could hope to get with the kitchen down in the depths, and a terrace which we would rarely use); iv) messing around with supporting walls, v) traipsing through the kitchen with lawnmower and muddy boots, and vi) vacating the grandiose ground floor for the spiders to party.

What it does mean is a big open plan kitchen the width of the house, on the same level as the sitting room (i.e. the upper ground). On top of that a flat roof, high enough to catch the last rays of the evening. And underneath, a room to keep the said lawnmower / muddy boots, as well as seedlings in the window. In fact, it may even come to be known as the “potting room”, along these lines:

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves though. First things first: we need an updated version of the plans, and before that we need to sign the contract with the architect, and before that, a certain someone needs to get back on to this continent…

In the meantime, to look forward to: a visit to one of Brussels’ “batiment exemplaire” a few streets from ours. It's open day coming up and we’ll be checking out the Extensive Vegetative Roof and the triple glazing.

Once again, in colour

For those who didn't manage to make sense of the before/after plans, here they are again with some colourful explanation. And if that still makes no sense, we'd be happy to show you in real life!

Things That Make You Go Hmmm...

(C + C Music Factory, 1991)

On Monday we were finally able to meet V&A the architects to see what they had in store for the house. They had warned us that it may not be quite what we had in mind…

As you'll remember, the main challenge was to do something with the back of the house, which is messy and dark. The kitchen sticks out on its own on the first floor, creating a big damp shady waste of space next to it.

So, to explain the general idea, these are V&A's rough sketches of the back façade and side cut, before and after:

The idea is to drop the kitchen to the lower ground, so that it has direct access out to the garden.

On top of that is a large terrace, with light wells to bring light into the kitchen below, and with large glass doors leading to the sitting room.

You with me? So here we have it again from above and in more detail. On the left is the lower ground, and on the right the upper ground (or first floor if you like):

So big thumbs up for connecting the kitchen to the garden, for bringing in the light, and for the huge raised terrace to catch the last of the evening's rays. I think we can live with all that without too much hardship.

However, this also means demolishing half of the hallway (with its pretty 1898 mosaic floor) and the staircase that goes down to the basement, to fit a new staircase the width of the hallway that takes you straight down to the kitchen. And losing a room. And destroying the rather lovely (and useful) wine cellar. Do I sound a bit regretful when I say that?

I had a few immediate reactions, and C had others. There are some quite major decisions to make, but we need to mull it over a while and then get back to V&A to see if they can maybe some up with a revised version.

Hmm....

A Life of Grime

With the garden all tidy and tucked up for winter, it’s been time to turn our attention indoors. The mission for this weekend was to tackle the layers of grime that have been building up over the last century and bringing in the lemony wafts of Ecover.

And it needed it – here is the inexplicably filthy hallway…

… and the Spider Palace above the front door, where lived one fat and lonely spider, having munched its way through all its friends. Charlotte’s Web it ain’t. I admit, C did that bit.
But what about the plans? I know, I promised this week but diaries got in the way. However we now have a date with Vincent: Monday 4^th October. So see you back here then.

Eats Roots and Leaves

With Brussels No Car Day tomorrow marking the end of the summer, now’s a good time to look back over what we’ve been up to these last few months (still rather garden focussed I’m afraid) and what’s coming up (yes, the plans at last!).

We have now:

1. Re-enacted that scene from Fargo with the jungle, and tidily packed it into regulation green bags, ready to be taken to the Point Vert,
   

3. A homemade compost heap,

3. Bashed down the bricked-in doorway to the cellar,

4. Opened up the water cistern,

5. Planted the first arrival: a Hydrangea aspera Villosa (thanks mum!)

6. Functioning blinds!

7. Spotted a house two streets from ours which has just had a make-over. A “batiment exemplaire” no less (buildings recognised for being environmentally-friendly). It seems like they did a good job on the façade – will make a note of these guys.

Still to come this autumn:

- planting the greengage tree, in fact finding one first: a little excursion to the Fete des Jardins at Aywiers is on the cards for October:

- rescuing abandoned raspberries and currents from some friends’ garden and tucking them in for the winter.

And for those wondering when we are going to get going on the serious stuff: we meet this week with Vincent the architect to hear his ideas. We gave him our wish list a few weeks back and are now expecting a few surprises. Watch this space…

Roots Manuva

Before I bore you all with yet another account of clearing the garden (but this time major root surgery with an axe! more on that below) let me share with you my vision of what the garden will be like. One day.

Thanks to a brand new box of colour pencils (quite a forgotten pleasure), I present The Plan.

Ok, I know the perspective gives you a headache (it works best if you turn the page round), but there was a lot to cram in. So, from the bottom, going clockwise we have:
steps coming down from the kitchen (draped in Virginia creeper), under which is cunningly hidden the rainwater collection tank, as well as the entrance to the basement / garden store room,

- the shady wall on the left hand side, with a little space for the BBQ,

- in the corner the hen house – yup, I’ve still not succumbed to the general scepticism about that idea,

- against the back wall, the one surviving elder tree, purely to be able to make Russell’s elder flower fritters,

- and in the sunniest corner of the garden, the vegetable patch and its compost heap. Oh yes. The green scribblings don’t quite convey the variety of wonderful goodies that will grow there,

- Against the wall will be an espalier apple tree,

- and you might just be able to make out the archway of raspberries which makes a divider between veg. patch and the seating area (and the surviving forsythia),

- then the seating area, with bench along the wall,

- at the bottom of the stairs, for easy access, is the herb box, and growing up the wall will be a big scented rambling rose, maybe Paul’s Himalayan Musk

Shouldn’t be too ambitious I don’t think.

In the meantime, back to the here and now, we have almost got rid of the sycamores and elders, but it's been tough…

On & on

(Erykah Badu, 1997)

A few have remarked on how long it has been since the last post. No, I haven’t abandoned this blogging thing altogether… It’s just that it has been overtaken by, well, a combination of summery distractions and generally waiting for something newsworthy to report.

So, for those still checking in, here is a run down of the last month.

Garden clearance is progressing. The last of the trees was hacked down on Saturday, so there are just a dozen stumps to be uprooted - a job for the big strong man when he’s next available. In the meantime the smoggy contents of our window boxes have been set free in the garden, safely fenced in so they will not be trampled on by the said big strong man, along with a few renegades from International Guerrilla Sunflower Day (thanks Jeanette).

Longer term, ideas for the garden are forming. They include hens, hammocks, raised beds, lots of climbers up the walls, benches and stone islands (although I admit C is not entirely convinced about the hens…). My plans to sketch it all out, à la Ground Force, have been slightly thwarted by not finding a brown coloured pencil, but that will come soon, I promise.

Although the official opening party is still t.b.c. we’ve been very pleased to welcome a few intrepid visitors. Not least Joe (aged 4), who informed us that “It’s a bit broken but my Daddy can fix it” (Rich, you’re on the hook now). In the meantime we will try to find some more chairs.

As to the renovation itself, most significantly, we seem to have found an agreement on what we want to do with the empty space at the back. My L-shaped balcony-with-internal-staircase-connecting-to-garden-level idea gave in

to C’s extra-room-with-plenty-of-light-and-space-for-kitchen-with-outside-staircase-down-to-garden idea. He argued that two staircases between ground and lower ground was quite enough, and that a third was excessive, to which I had no answer. The next stage is at the end of August when the architect gives us the detailed plans of how it is currently, and then a few weeks later, after discussions, the plans of how it will be. With sketches. Quite excited about that.

And I bet you are too - so stay tuned!

Thumbs up

No matter how right something feels, somehow there is nothing quite like a parental thumbs up to reassure you that it wasn’t such a mad idea and that it will all turn out ok.

It was therefore especially lovely to have a visit from two very experienced renovators of old houses (four is it now, or five?) and to hear them enthusing about our house and its potential (with perhaps a twinkle of nostalgie?), imparting gems of wisdom as they went. You may not have noticed, but we were beaming with pride.

Notes to self:

1. Elder wood is good for nothing. Too green for burning, too stiff and hollow for weaving into little rustic fences or frames for sweet peas. And those branches will never turn into compost without the assistance of an industrial shredder. So all those branches will have to be bundled off to the Point Vert.

2. Don’t put your washing machine two floors below your bedroom. Much as a large laundry in the basement has its appeals (and believe me it does – I have visions of a place where freshly laundered sheets are free to waft their Ecovery loveliness, being scrunched over the back of doorsa thing of the past. And an airing cupboard!) don’t forget that you are the washerwoman who will be forever heaving things laundry up and down stairs. Hmm… hard decisions.

3. The more time spent thinking about electric sockets – where? how many? - the better.

4. Be careful with that pickaxe.

Wise words. And we hope there’s more where they came from.

Wild Wood

Given that the weather has been so good lately, we have been spending any spare time we can find (in between Roman holidays, zinnekes, birthdays, family get-togethers in the Belgian countryside, not forgetting work), trying to get a grip of the wilderness that is our back garden. Remember this, back in April?

A number of scrapes, blisters and sunburnt shoulders later, we have now:

Hacked down the wood (elders, sycamores and 10-foot brambles) and piled it neatly - to use as fuel for sauna? to build some kind of elaborate frame for sweet peas? a wigwam?

Built a man-sized pile of compost…

Extracted a large pile of old rubbish…

… and fifty eight old bottles. The sort of thing people more creative than I could use to make some quirky, stylish creation bringing colour and light into their homes. Until I work out what that would be, they’ll just sit here on the window ledge looking scenic.

So this is what it looks like now. Very much sunnier without the canopy of weed. Not quite ready for croquet, but getting there.

I Need a Dollar

(Aloe Blacc, 2010)

Progress.  No, I am not talking about the election results.

I mean the number of small but significant steps we have taken this week:

1. The house is now insured. Lightening, gas explosions, tidal waves: we have no fear.

2. We have a mortgage. We have become one of them. You know, those people you sometimes hear droning on about how low rates are these days, in fact we got quite a good fixed rate of 3.9%, which we combined 50/50 with an annual variable, starting at 2.39%, but in Belgium the law says it can only ever increase by 1% a year, and can never more than double in the lifetime of the loan, don’t you know… yawn….

3. Now this IS exciting: we have an architect. In fact three. The fabulous Vincent and his team, masters at bringing light and space into old Brussels town houses while preserving their original character. Have a look at the ‘Henry’ and ‘Potagère’ projects for an idea of the kind of glass / balcony / light well / garden extension which we quite like. He is going to prepare an ‘esquisse’ (detailed plans) and then, well, we’ll have to see. Very, very provisionally, we are looking at this sort of timing: Plans this summer; Submit planning application in the autumn; Start works in spring 2011; Move in before Christmas 2011. Let’s hope that is not too optimistic…

All in all, it was a long week. Thankfully tomorrow is the weekend, so we can put aside the paperwork and get back to clearing the garden. Bliss.

The plans

If you have ever tried to design your dream kitchen on the Ikea website, you'll know that not knowing the dimensions of the space is quite an impediment.


So this morning I went down to the Schaerbeek Maison Communale, armed with a digital camera (copies are €30 a pop) to dig out the plans for the house. So here they are, the original 1898 plans.


The facade:

Side cut:

The upper ground floor - at the back on the right is the old kitchen, with the steps going down to the garden. Note the entrance to the cistern at the top.






The lower ground, with a few steps going up to the garden at the back. These are the two rooms with the nice old tiles on the floors, we have an idea to turn them into a kitchen / diner, opening up the entrance to the garden. Notice at the top right the wine cellar (under the old kitchen) , which has a well ("puits") , as well as the cistern on the left next to the steps.


A close up on that cistern / well detail. Something to investigate further no doubt.

What lies beneath

(Q Tip, 2002)

We all know that when you buy an old house, you can expect a lot of surprises. Often expensive ones (no doubt there'll be more on those later). But sometimes you can also find some little treasures. It's only since buying the place that we have been able to have a good poke under the carpets / dust / grime, and have been pleased to find...

Lots of old floor tiles in the basement:

More fireplaces in good nick (strange green glaze effect - almost Victorian):

A lot of floorboard, under four layers of lino:

Brass window opening handles (or whatever the word is):

Wooden features untouched by paintbrush:

And more old doors with etched glass and brass handles:

Day One...

What better way to spend a beautiful spring day than fighting one's way through a thick of brambles metres high, pulling out assorted plastic garden tat...


The first great discovery was that we have a water cistern. Can be used to collect rain water?


Second, hearing nothing but the tweeting of birds (and some raï in the distance, for we are in Schaarbeek...), and third, reaching the end wall, and it realising that it was really quite sunny. Mmm. Now where should we put that BBQ?

Encore des photos...

As promised, here are some more pictures of the current state of the place.

La facade. Upper and lower ground (garden level), first floor with the bacony. The second floor- in the roof - is out of sight.





The entrance - with a little door leading to the lower ground:


And then the hall, with original mosaic floor:


On the raised ground foor, two large rooms, each with a big black (marble?) fireplace:

The wiring - also an original feature...

More to follow..

Bruxelles

When I went to the notaire's office on Friday to collect the papers, I saw this plaque on the side of their building. Belgium's greatest singer was born in the Schaarbeek area of Brussels, which is where our new house is.

In a Bad Way

(St Etienne, 1992)

There will be more photos still to come, but here is a little idea of the task ahead.

First, the kitchen. Look at those lovely floor tiles..



Next, the garden. We have yet to make it to the far end. Machete anyone?


Upstairs, the front room on the first floor, some of the original wooden window frames



And on the second floor, a bit of work to do on the roof:


That's all for now, more to follow...