What’s Not to Love About Port Townsend, Washington?

LB wants us all to know why of all the places in the world he could have lived, he and Gwen the Beautiful chose Port Townsend, WA, just across Puget Sound from Seattle.

This TVWriter™ minion gets it, for sure. Hell, the picture alone sells me:

A Washington author renovates a Port Townsend house, and her life
by Erica Bauermeister (via The Seattle Times)

Editor’s note: The following is an edited excerpt from the new book, “House Lessons: Renovating a Life,” © 2020 by Erica Bauermeister. All rights reserved. Excerpted by permission of Sasquatch Books.

THE HOUSE STOOD at the top of a hill, ensnarled in vegetation, looking out over the Victorian roofs of Port Townsend and beyond, to water and islands and clouds. It seemed to lean toward the view as if enchanted, although we later learned that had a lot more to do with neglect than magic. The once-elegant slopes of its hipped roof rolled and curled, green with moss. The tall, straight walls of its Foursquare design were camouflaged in salmon-pink asbestos shingles, the windows covered in grimy curtains or cardboard. Three discarded furnaces, four neon-yellow oil drums, an ancient camper shell and a pair of rusted wheelbarrows lay scattered at odd angles across the overgrown grass, as if caught in a game of large-appliance freeze tag.

The yard was Darwinian in its landscaping — an agglomeration of plants and trees, stuck in the ground and left to survive. Below the house, I could just see the tips of a possible orchard poking up through a roiling sea of ivy. In front, two weather-stunted palm trees flanked the walkway like a pair of tropical lawn jockeys gone lost, while a feral camellia bush had covered the porch and was heading for the second story. Someone had hacked away a rough opening for the front stairs, down which an assortment of rusted rakes and car mufflers and bags of fertilizer sprawled in lazy abandon. In their midst, seemingly oblivious to its setting, sat a rotting fruit basket, gift card still attached.

“That one,” my husband, Ben, said, as he pointed to the house….

Read it all at seattletimes.com

Learn more about this book and its author, including coming events, at ericabauermeister.com