Renovation wrap-up

‘Why didn’t you just bulldoze it?’ is a question we’ve been asked more than once about the renovation of our 70-year-old timber house at Nundle, in the Upper Peel Valley of north west NSW.

We did ask both our draftsman and builder, ‘Should we knock it down?’ Their advice was that the frame of the house was solid and we could work with what we had, rather than build new.

Making use of existing available materials, and hopefully saving money made sense as well. It also appealed to history. Our family has memories in these walls where we’ve raised children, had family celebrations and nurtured daily routines. Retaining parts of the old house honoured those stories.

It took time - well, years - to plan and approve a more logical redesign, small extension and much anticipated verandah, and then wait our turn for an in demand builder. We’d worked with designer Grant Bedford and builder Peter Downie before, replacing our timber and iron shop verandah. We liked the quality of their work and trusted that they had our best interests at heart.

Renovating a house is very different to replacing a verandah. Peter reminded us of an early conversation in our old kitchen when he asked, ‘You do realise you are rebuilding your house?’

We were extremely excited to start the project in September 2022, beginning with deconstruction of the old painted cement floor bathroom. Fortunately, we had a second bathroom, and a kitchen sink in one of our sheds, and were able to live in the house during the 18-month build. Eventually the house was emptied of all but essential possessions and we slept on mattresses on the floor and moved them from room to room as needed.

Neither of us were ready for the sheer number of decisions to be made. We were ready for big decisions on paint colour, tiles, and light fittings. It was the minuscule details like grout colour, outdoor lighting placement, and window frame profiles that surprised us.

What helped was understanding what materials suited the kind of house we wanted to live in. For us, this was informed by our rural surroundings and food production on our small farm. We leaned toward galvanised external light fittings, galvanised mini orb verandah lining, cedar windows and concertina doors, and batten and board cladding. 

Whenever I found myself lost looking at hard copy or online catalogues of building materials I repeated the words, ‘Earthy, mountain, farmhouse’ to guide our selection. More than a year after they were laid I still enjoy seeing the morning and afternoon winter sun warm the terracotta kitchen tiles and timber floorboards, and connection to nature and the surrounding landscape from every window and door.

We recycled building materials when possible, reusing removed floorboards, running old weatherboards through a thicknesser to lay as floorboards in new sections of the house, using old shop verandah timbers to make a kitchen benchtop, and stripping our old backdoor to use as a linen cupboard door.

We moved a claw foot bath previously used at the shop, and were delighted to find decorative cast iron eagles claw ‘feet’ when we removed the fibre cement surround from the old bathroom.

We had salvaged internal bedroom doors from Duncan’s brother’s Sydney renovation of a Californian bungalow at Marrickville in the 1990s, and reused preloved metal light fittings bought at clearing sales in the original part of the house.

We also wanted to honour the modest roots and age of the house that had been an early kit home, fabricated off site in Dubbo, and erected in Nundle in the 1950’s. It was built for Ivan Inman (and family) who worked as a gardener on the large Nundle grazing property “Wombramurra.” Getting to know Ivan, uncovering a stone path he’d made, and reviving some of his plantings has been a source of great joy. 

We bought a second hand timber and patterned glass back door from Nundle antiques dealer Kevin Blackwell. Kev was just as thrilled as we were when he found three antique milk glass Chinaman’s hat light fittings knowing they would be perfect for pendant lights above the kitchen bench.

Our shop neighbour Jenkins Street Antiques and Fine China owner Mark Delahunt sold us Art Deco light fittings out of the old Nundle Bank of New South Wales bank manager’s residence for bedrooms.

Peter raided his stash of salvaged materials, contributing a toilet door to match the linen cupboard door directly opposite, and a 12-pane Kosciusko glass door for the bathroom. 

While the building team left in April 2024, in time for us to host 40 guests for our daughter Isabelle and son-in-law Ben's post wedding breakfast, Duncan and I kept painting, sanding floorboards, and oiling cedar door and window frames for the next 12 months.

Early on Peter asked us what we wanted to achieve from the rebuild. Among our goals was a much improved, locally adapted house. Well sealed, better insulation, maximised rainwater capture and storage, passive solar heating in winter, and better airflow for cooling in summer.

What does this look like day to day? In summer we enjoy opening up the windows and doors of the house to capture the extraordinary cooling easterly breeze off the Great Dividing Range, and having a wine or beer at the end of the day on our verandah, shaded by crabapple, plum, pear, and apple trees planted 13 years ago. 

From November to May homegrown fruit, vegetables, honey, eggs and lamb are brought from the paddocks and garden into the kitchen for preserving, butchering, and cooking.

Before renovating we had discussed what gives you comfort in a home and Duncan had said, ‘Returning home, coming down the driveway and seeing smoke rising from the chimney.’ 

After living for a time during the build with nothing more than a tarpaulin between us and sub zero overnight temperatures the greatest joy has been Duncan’s reinstallation of our Morso cast iron fireplace in the lounge room.

The house is still bare as we continue to unpack boxes, position furniture, and hang art. We need to reinstall our wood stove in the kitchen and plumb it in for hot water, and we’re contemplating window coverings despite the nearest neighbours being nearly a kilometre away.

When we return home and pull into the drive, most days there is smoke rising from the chimney, and when we open the door, the house is at a delightful temperature and as you step over the threshold you can see welcoming warming red coals and flames flickering in the fireplace.

Gryff and friend Sam picking broad beans with the higgledy-piggledy 70-year-old weatherboard house in the background (around 2013)

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