From the very beginning, even in her sad, deplorable condition, the house sang to us.  Over the next 30 years, as she sang, we had fun creating art and eventually turned the house itself into our own personal expression of art, beauty and the unique qualities of this place.  In the beginning our ambition outpaced our abilities and finances, but slowly over the years as our art and ceramics studio prospered this uniquely beautiful world emerged.

The gardens were first, requiring more youthful brawn than bank account.  We befriended an old farmer in Oregon City who laughed as we gratefully removed all the rocks and cow dung from his fields.  Nothing thrived on the acre but weeds and unwanted car parts with only a enormous old walnut tree (from the 1905 World’s Fair) and a stand of willows (once stakes in a long-forgotten vegetable garden) could prove that anyone hand ever cultivated the land.

Once we were confident in our gardening and stone work abilities, we set our sights on the fences, pergolas and trellises that adorn the property.   These early garden projects really ignited our love of woodworking and gave us the skills and confidence to begin the necessary repair projects on the main house.

As the years rolled on, our art studio prospered as did our ability to express ourselves artistically and to fund the rehabilitation of the house and grounds.

Being brutally stripped of all her architectural detailing long ago gave us the freedom to create a new reality when designing the spaces and ornamental details.  We reduced every room to it’s studs and reimagined them in our own distinctive style.  Every inch of the interior and exterior has been meticulously and lovingly repaired and recreated.

It has been one wonderful, enjoyable, memorable learning experience for us.  It has allowed us to spend our life sidestepping the hectic, dehumanizing (cattle) chute of modern life.  Why do you think we call it Lonesomeville?