Poor farmer’s house renewed
ONCE BURIED IN THE BUSH this transformed home is practically unrecognizable
In 1912, Page Fairchild’s grandfather, the son of an Irish immigrant, bought four neighbouring farms in Austin, on the shores of Lake Memphremagog.
“One of the farmhouses was down by the lake and, weekends and during vacations, my wife Andrea and I and our three children used to join other members of the family at what we called ‘the big house,’ ” Fairchild recalled.
“It was like a huge family hotel, but eventually it became too full of people and children and babies, so an aunt recommended that we take over one of the smaller homes, way back in the bush.”
This was what the couple refers to as “a poor farmer’s house.” Built in the 1840s, it was cramped, gloomy and surrounded by thick growth. The living room had, for some reason, seven doors (“just a room for walking through and very depressing”). There was no modern plumbing and the electrical system ran on only 40 amps.
Today, aside from its cladding of grey clapboard with pale yellow trim – the same colours and style as the original – the house is practically unrecognizable.
After many years of renovation, the “poor farmer’s house” has evolved into a handsome, 3,300-square-foot country home on 20 hectares, with four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, open plan kitchen/dining area, library, family room, studio and a home office. What was a weekend retreat is now the couple’s full-time residence. Recently retired, the Fairchilds sold their Montreal condo in 2011.
Page and Andrea started working on their country house back in the 1960s. At that time, they were a young married couple with few financial resources. They first set about clearing the land, logging trees and planting gardens – generally opening up the lot, so they could work on the house itself – and over the next few years, they made renovations whenever they could afford it.
By the mid-1980s, however, the Fairchilds were established in their careers and with a steady income, were finally able to transform the house in earnest.
They found a contractor who could undertake the heavy construction work, but after seeing the state the house was in, he suggested they simply pull it down and start again. The Fairchilds couldn’t afford to do that, so instead they opted to upgrade and modernize the existing building. That turned out to be a wise decision. The contractor offered to stabilize the foundation, put in a cellar, install plumbing and extend the roof – all for a bargain price (even then) of $40,000.
His modest quote wasn’t made entirely out of the goodness of his heart. There was a lengthy construction strike going on at the time, but the contractor wanted to keep on working. In contravention of union rules, he hid his equipment behind the Fairchilds’ hedge and stored his materials inside the house. (Andrea recalled that for months, their living room was piled high with lumber, gyprock and insulating fibre.)
The first major challenge was to lift the building, to stabilize the foundation and put in a cellar.
“Things seemed to go well at first,” Page Fairchild said, “but unfortunately, as the house was being hoisted, it shook and plaster started falling off the walls! We didn’t realize that we’d have to replace all that plaster but at least that allowed us to insulate the building. Inevitably, there were other things we hadn’t bargained for. We’d do something and then another thing would reveal itself, but as the work progressed, the contractor suggested some changes, all of them good, such as building an upstairs bedroom.”
That first major phase of construction lasted for six chaotic months, with the couple zipping back and forth from Montreal, with their children in tow.
“I became a kind of project manager,” Andrea Fairchild said, “but at that point, I really didn’t know much about construction. I wish I’d known then what I know now!”
In the following years, other work had to be done, like installing new windows, moving a barn, digging a pond and “endlessly” painting the exterior. In the late 1990s, the Fairchilds added a modern kitchen and a couple of wooden decks to the front and back of the building. “The original veranda was so narrow, you couldn’t even sit on it,” she explained. “Now we’ve got lots of pleasant areas to relax outside.”
The interior also has lots of places to relax and it’s a far cry from its gloomy former self when the Fairchilds first acquired the “poor farmer’s” house. The rooms are furnished in a homey style with oil paintings, whimsical ornaments, bowls of flowers, unusual light fixtures, sofas, comfy armchairs and a sprinkling of antiques – some of them inherited from the couple’s families and others picked up by themselves during their early years together.
The most recent additions to the house, completed in 2010, were the library, family room, studio (Andrea is an amateur painter) and home office. The library, which is lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves of books and DVDs, is a warm, welcoming space with a Scandinavian-style leather lounger and matching ottoman.
The family room, which is downstairs from the main floor, has a cathedral ceiling and walls of windows. It has a loveseat, several armchairs and a large flat-screen TV. Looming over them from a corner is a massive, triangular shaped grey-blue wooden cabinet.
“The cabinet dates back to the early 1800s and it came from an aunt who was given it as a wedding present,” Fairchild said. “It has dominated any place we’ve ever lived in, but hopefully, we’ll never have to move it again.”
The upstairs living room is a more formal space, but it too exudes a warm, relaxing ambience. The walls are a restful pale caramel. The floors are hardwood. The room (now open and stripped of its seven doors) has a sofa, several armchairs and a wood-burning stove. In one corner stands a bureau with a glass-fronted cupboard on top – an antique that originated in Ireland, which was a present from his family.
Along one wall is a bay window with a wide shelf covered with houseplants. The bay window is boxy rather than curved (a more common shape) and it floods the previously dark living room with light.
“The fellow who replaced our old windows had a couple of greenhouse panes to spare and he asked if we’d like them,” Fairchild explained.
“We didn’t really know what we’d do with them, but then he suggested building a bay window. We were pretty curious about how he would construct it, so we came by the house to watch him work.
“To our amazement, he just took out a chainsaw and went zip, zip, zip, zip. … A five-foot by six-foot chunk of wall fell to the ground and this window is the result!”