The Wee Yellow House

I used to be a bit of a control freak. You know, the kind of person that is reasonably good at planning, organising, and setting goals for herself and for others. When I got ill in January 2023 and no longer knew what the future would hold for me, I instantly became anxious and scared. I did not have the illusion I could control the cancer in my body.

Luckily, sometime after the third chemo treatment, a new rhythm gradually set in. I understood that one bad week spent on the couch was followed by better weeks. I became calmer and stopped worrying about the future. Instead, I tried to make the best of the good days. I resumed to my daily walks, something I’d started during the Covid pandemic. I decided to document my cancer journey and share it with others. And together with my husband, I continued with the renovations we’d started half a year earlier.

 

Business Property

In summer 2022, we had purchased an old mummonmökki (grandma cottage) in Ii, a town about 25 km north from Oulu. Six years earlier in 2017, I had started my own business and for some years, we had been looking for premises to run my workshops and training events about loneliness and social exclusion. My wishes: the place needed to be accessible but away from city hassle. Also, the building should be inviting, trigger curiosity and embrace its visitors. 

One day an announcement on Etuovi, a Finnish housing service, made me curious. “An idyllic detached house built in the 1940s on its own 2217 m² plot near the center of Ii,” the advertisement read. 

 

The romantic in me was sold as soon as I saw the gable-roofed yellow building in an overgrown yard on that sunny day in July. The tiny porch captivated me immediately, but upon entrance it was the spacious kitchen that embraced me. What a comfortable place for informal discussions or interviews about loneliness, I thought.

The interior needed an overhaul but that didn’t seem an obstacle. We were up for new challenges and we’re just not the sort to drink sangria on a Spanish beach. No, we rather spend our salaries on wooden floor planks, paint, or a concrete mixer.

 

The networker in me decided to explore Ii, a town of approximately 10,000 inhabitants. I contacted my friend Marjukka, who had spent her childhood and teenage summers  with her cousins, uncles and aunts on Karhu island in Ii. With her I visited a nearby B&B. Marjukka also pointed out that the library had a great conference room. Moreover, a visit to a nearby art centre made me confident that there were also possibilities for organizing loneliness retreats in collaboration with other entrepreneurs in the area. 

 

On August 26^th, we met the two granddaughters of the builder of the house in the real estate office in Oulu. Before handing over the keys they asked us about our plans. The premises had been in the family for over eighty years and every room was filled with memories. We understood that selling wasn’t an easy step for the 75- and 82-year-old graceful sisters. 

 

Renovations

Four months later, when the kitchen had been emptied, and the floor and the walls stripped from lino and wallpaper, our home improvement weekends came to a sudden standstill. Ovarian cancer became the pressing topic in our lives. Not knowing if I would survive, I wondered whether we should put the house up for sale again.

 

“Selling? Of course not. Don’t give up, it’s your project,” my husband reluctantly said when I brought up the sales idea from my hospital bed. “The place makes you happy and we are not in a rush, remember?” 

 

I was hesitant at first but in retrospect, my husband was right. In between the chemos we regularly went to Ii to continue with the renovations. It felt good to be out of the house and occupy myself with little projects such as sanding a kitchen bench, painting window frames, or sorting out books, crockery, and cutlery that was left by the previous owners. On low energy days, I felt wonderfully satisfied just by sitting in the overgrown yard, observing butterflies, chatting with a neighbour or serving coffee to my husband and our friend Jacco who helped us to add new wall panels in the bedroom. 

 

Nostalgia

There is something magical about the place. Winter or summer, always when we arrive, the shape and the colour of the vertical planked house pleases my eyes. Surrounded by trees in summer or covered in snow in winter it looks like a storybook house. What’s more, the sights, smells and sounds of the house remind me of my childhood. My maternal granddad had a similar stove in the kitchen, as well as an outdoor loo, and a cellar filled with jars and pots on the farm. My grandparents from my father’s side had a similar well with “crystal clean” water in the yard. 

 

Back then, people knew much better how to be self-sufficient. Despite the size (60 m²) of the house, the yard is big enough to organize a super outdoor loneliness conference and feed the crowd with home grown products. “Loads of potatoes were grown in the rear, behind the outbuilding and then stored in the cellar,” one of the sisters had told us. 

 

Different sized wall planks

Also, typical for houses built in the so-called period of reconstruction (around 1940) when there was supply shortage in Finland, the house is completely made of wood.  According to his great grandson, “Vanha isä” built the house from different kinds of plank wood, obtained by the old railway guard houses in Ii. Sawdust under the floor and cardboard and several layers of wallpaper on the walls was used to keep the cold out. The sauna (no electricity, no running water), the shed and the outdoor loo are built as separate structures under one roof.

 

Luckily, the whole construction is easy to understand for rookie renovators like us. Also, I like the way the previous owners expanded the house. Typically for the 1970s when the living standard went up, a living room (suitable for presentations about the theory of loneliness), a bathroom (not suitable for clients yet) and central heating were added to the building. The single layer glass window became a charming, well preserved item between the kitchen and the added living room.

 

 

Proceeding in a relaxed manner

We’re no longer on schedule with the renovations but it doesn’t matter. Of course, one day I hope to officially open my business in Ii. But for now, my workshops can wait, the renovations can wait and the yard – another big project – can wait. 

 

Cancer is a life changing experience. I’ve learned that I don’t always have to be productive and on schedule. Improving our wee yellow house in Ii makes us feel relaxed and that’s exactly how it should be.

 

Image by jacobupnorth

                                         Feel free to follow our renovation process on Instagram