2 - The First Steps of the Renovation
- Suzanne ostersmith
- 12 hours ago
- 4 min read
“It feels really good working this physically hard again, doesn’t it?” Mark asked me as we turned onto the pavement leaving Chattaroy after a day working on our Mountain Space home.
Yes, it does feel good renovating our family homestead into a retreat venue. Not that we haven’t worked hard in the last 30 years—we have. But we haven’t engaged in these kinds of challenges since we first built the home, and it feels GREAT!
When we selected the original carpet for the home we built, it was made from recycled pop bottles. There were several ways we made environmental choices during the building process. Sustainable building practices were, and still are, very important to us, and they were a bit unusual in regular construction in the late ’90s. So, while it bothers me that we are now having to take up space in the landfill with that old carpet, it feels good knowing it was originally recycled and has had a very well-used life of three decades.
Once the carpet was gone, we could tear down a portion of a closet. While it might be hard to tell from the photos, this closet faced into the bathroom, which somehow made total sense when we built it but makes no sense for the next iteration. So, we tore it out to make room for new spaces. It was very nerve-wracking tearing out something knowing the work it would take to put things back together. Sometimes that is how life is, though, we must go through some discomfort for the vision on the other side.
In mid-May, I attended a conference in Denver, Colorado: the Retreat Industry Forum. It was a phenomenal three days of learning about the business of running retreats and venues. I am a bit obsessed with this work, so it was delightful to be surrounded by others with an equal passion for creating opportunities for reflection and space to reconnect with curiosity and creative possibility.
As someone who has always enjoyed a challenge, I am reveling in learning all these new things, even as I experience uncertainty or insecurity navigating new systems and ways of thinking. Sort of like building this wall, except in this case, I had built walls before, long ago (read the other blogs). It was fun, however, to watch my brain and body remember the process of aligning jack and king studs to frame a rough opening for a door. I measured and checked my work multiple times before nailing it together. “Measure twice, cut once!” I heard echoes of mentors (named Bob) reminding me of this good advice throughout the process.
There are three windows that need to be replaced after all these years of wear and weather. At first, we got bids to have a professional replace them. But once we reminded ourselves that we installed them in the first place (and saw the cost of the bids), Mark said, “Let’s do it ourselves.” This really is a fun project to be working on together.
We have a spreadsheet for each of the steps ahead in the coming months. For now, we’ll keep making space, one layer at a time, for what’s next.
We’re so glad you’re here.
How has this project stretched you personally, beyond the construction work itself?
While I had a successful career founding a department, I have never started a business. This all feels exciting and terrifying and brave and creative and logical…and, yes, terrifying. So mainly exciting, with a little terrifying sprinkled in. The fact that we are taking a year to develop both the venue and the business feels really right.
What parts of building the home decades ago came back naturally, and what skills have you had to relearn?
I recently built some garden boxes, so I became reacquainted with the chop saw and screw gun. But reintroducing my relationship with the skill saw and nail gun took a moment. Once we were on speaking terms, though, I found it really fun again. Although, I have to say, that nail gun has become a lot heavier in the last 30 years.
Have there been moments when you've questioned the project, and what helped you move forward?
People want to see it in person, but Mountain Space really isn't ready to be seen yet. I made the mistake of letting someone see it recently, and all they could talk about was how much work there is ahead. That can make me question the project. But if I keep my eye on the vision, then the hard work is all worth it. This is one reason we're working toward October for our first open house.
What does "making space for what's next" mean to you, both in the renovation and in life?
Ha! Thanks for asking.
Having completed my first year of retirement and now being squarely in the second half of life, this building and this vision are the next thing. This process of renovating is an embodiment of me making space for what's next. And I am excited to then make space for others to discover what is next for themselves!