While the official name is Arcadia, my family refers to it as “The Saga.”

There is nothing like buying a 150+ year old house in the rural South that requires all new everything to make you question your ability to make good life choices. A decade in, projects remain but the house has come back to life.

I’ve had parties throughout the restoration. The first invited people to bring their own crowbars and demolition tools. This was followed by a Fourth of July with hot chicken made on 4 turkey fryers and a garden hose for dishes. For the record, I served on real china with linen napkins even though there was no kitchen and it was years before I would have a washer dryer. We all have to have our standards.

There have been bonfires… some intentional, some less so. And there have been raccoons. The first one, I named Harvey because he lived in the walls. The next one felt comfortable enough to come to dinner the night the range was installed. My dinner guest was unfettered, she later confessed to several dozen flying squirrels in her attic.

On the topic of my range, I love my ovens. I love my burners. I chose the French top over the grill option. I’m still not sure I fully understand the French top but a grill is charcoal and it is outside. I’ve named this 60 inch gem Ryan Gossling. Who doesn’t want to go “turn on” Ryan Gossling? When the team of installers arrived from A-1 Appliance in Nashville with this investment that cost more than my car to a kitchen that only had the framework of cabinets finished, they looked concerned. By the end of the day, they were all smiles, “maam, we just want you to know how fun it was to install one of these things for someone who is actually going to use it. Sometimes we get called back to remove them years later and the installation guide is still in the oven.” Needless to say, I shipped the dream team the first batch of chocolate chip cookies the next morning.

Arcadia has been home to several very loyal dogs that have watched its progress. They have not all made it long enough to sleep on the featherbeds, but they did an excellent job armadillo hunting. I have been through dozens of handymen. It should be noted that not a single one one lived into my fantasy pool-boy-esk role. I have learned far too much on Youtube. I know more about sump pumps than anyone without a plumbing license. My grandmother is likely looking down on this whole escapade equating the number of power tools I own to my years of being single.

I love my plumber and my electricians. They are mine. Please do not ask me to connect you, I need them focused. I’ve tried to hire a few members of the local police force to hunt armadillos in the basement (don’t worry, the holes are filled). For a beautiful, agrarian community, the place is still a food desert but Fedex, dry ice and the worlds largest freezer goes a long way.

I’m still not sure it was a smart decision to buy a house that sat on the real estate market for three years. I probably should have thought more about the fact that everyone who has ever flirted with the idea of buying a home on ‘the domain” has toured the house at one time or another and run. I’m also not sure the house will ever be “done". I have a plan for porches, great big, wrap around, party throwing porches. But like all the other projects, they will come.

A few months before I bought Arcadia, I bought Julia Reed’s book “One Man’s Folly” about Furlow Gatewood’s series of eccentric and beautiful buildings scattered across a family farm in Georgia. I had never seen a property with such grace and whimsey. I have always imagined Furlow planning his spaces wondering if anyone would ever really appreciate the absurdity of his creations or the joy they brought him. I feel the same way. I’m not sure my guests will ever really get the joke- that there is nothing particularly practical or predictable about the house. It’s an evolving art project. It is a place that leaks, creaks, and during a big storm, a river that runs through the basement. I can’t wait to get back this spring to build some balconies. This will be a nice change from having doors on the second floor that open to 20 foot drops.

With all the crazy, there is nothing like seeing the delight of some retired faculty member walk through the front door, someone who has spent a lifetime sitting around the tables of these old homes. They always comment on the light. In a small town like Sewanee, these houses tell stories, they have been places of long meals, friendship, conversations. They have been places where people have not always agreed, where families have been raised, where conversations about change have taken place. It certainly would have been easier to tear Arcadia to the ground and build something that made sense, with right angles and leveled floors. But I love the history, I love that the house leans a little to the left. I get great pleasure in the knowledge that it has been owned by some of the quirkier women in Sewanee’s history. One of these ladies is said to have accosted Woodrow Wilson when he was President. My kind of girl. In a place that sometimes worships the past to a fault, I love the fact that new life, new traditions, new conversations happen in this very old and beautiful space.

Now… seriously… if you are looking for straight forward, please rent one of the many IKEA furnished rental homes on the mountain. If you are looking for a great beauty that requires a respectful guest who loves the grace of an original gem, come on over.