The Farm Renovacy.

The Farm Renovacy “I love this place! All this sunshine! But how are we going to find your uncle’s farm? I mean, you only went there once when you were about three. I don’t suppose you remember the way.”
Marietta’s enthusiasm for trying something new was one of the things Tim had liked about her from the first time he met her, right back when they were both nine years old and at the same summer camp. “Don’t you trust my superpowers? Actually,” Tim went on, “I thought of that tiny problem ages ago. Behold the solution!” “The mountains? The trees?” But Marietta was laughing. Tim always made her laugh – that was one of the reasons why he was her best friend.
“No, oh doubting one. This building. The town Hall – sacred repository of records since the dawn of time. Come, and venture into its bowels with me. Fear not! I will defend you from attacks by deranged staplers, steer you safely past the coils of red tape that wait to engulf the unwary…Onwards!” They headed off together towards the imposing double doors. “This doesn’t look like it will be too expensive. And I need something to drink!” For once, Tim’s normal sense of humour had deserted him.
“That wasn’t quite what I was expecting.”
“No. Are you – are you okay with...?”
“With learning that Uncle Hector had died? Well it’s a bit of a shock, but it’s not like it’s really bad news. I mean, I haven’t seen him for twenty-odd years.” Tim fell silent. Marietta looked at him sympathetically. Okay, so Tim hadn’t been that well-acquainted with his uncle, but Hector had been his last living relative. And seeing as Tim’s parents had disowned him some years before their death, really Hector had been his only relative.
“What about his wife? Mildred, did you say she was called?” He took his empty mug back to the counter before he answered her.
“She died about ten years before him. And that must have been about the time my parents moved again with their jobs – and the mail never got forwarded and half of it was thrown away. Which is why we never heard. And when Dad didn’t go to the funeral, didn’t even send a card – and he and Hector were so different anyway…Uncle Hector was farming mad, and Dad just wanted to climb the corporate ladder. Mum too.” He was beginning to recover.
“No wonder I was an only child. I bet they had to schedule a meeting just to conceive me… ‘I have a window on the 9th of July.’ ‘No good, darling, I’m in Arizona. How about the 21st of September?’ ‘Tokyo conference. And then there’s all the end of year stuff. How about Christmas?’
“You are a September birthday,” Marietta pointed out mischievously. “Well, the farm is mine. But the paperwork to claim the title will take all the money we’d earmarked for this holiday. And the guy said tomorrow was the last day to put a claim in. Noon tomorrow – that’s the deadline. He said he’d be there at seven if I wanted to do it, and we should just get in under the wire.”
“That was nice of him.” Marietta’s impulsive, try-anything-once nature rose in her. “Let’s do it! We could spend the summer on the place, tidy it up, give it a lick of paint and then sell it on. You can make a killing doing that. And there’s things to do here – there’s some good gig locations: we can still have fun on the way as well.” “Are you sure? I must admit, I would like to – like to have somewhere for a while that’s a bit family-ish.”
Tim’s childhood had been spent at (expensive) boarding schools, summer camps, winter camps, and occasionally in whichever grand but sterile apartment his parents were calling home. Career had been everything to both of them – and when Tim had said no, he wasn’t going to go into the family consultancy business, they had been furious, felt betrayed.
“After all we spent on you? Why do you think we had you? You were to take over eventually. Well, that’s it. We wash our hands of you.”
It wasn’t often Tim showed this side of his personality, this desire for family. “Let’s give it a go! We were just going to drift this summer anyway.” She was all sunny optimism, plus a desire to give Tim a chance to have something he’d always wanted.
“What can go wrong? What have we got to lose?” They slept in the car that night and then Tim spent the morning in the town hall, while Marietta went round the town, checked out the likely gig locations (after all, this was their holiday!) and ended up fishing near the piers. Talked into it by a chatty old fisherman, who’d lived in the town all his life, knew everyone, remembered everyone, was plainly pleased to have someone to talk to and to fish with, lent her his spare rod…She dropped Hector’s name into the conversation and he came out with a flood of reminiscences.
“Amazing what he did with that farm. First one round here to have a tractor, to see what you could do with it. His oranges – they sold so well, and his lemons: made a good penny off those. Good soil too, with what he ploughed into it. Of course…” and then he was cut short by someone calling his name.
“That’s the missus. I’ve got to go! Leave the rod with Joe at the newsagents – tell him it belongs to Charlie, and he’ll get it back to me.” And he trotted off to the woman waving to him, at a fair lick.
This looked promising, Marietta thought, fishing peacefully in the sunshine. “This is it? But it can’t be…” The deeds had described the farm as flourishing, and the taxes due on it certainly reflected that. The weathered clapboard of the farmhouse had been bleached into paleness by the sun. Walls and roof were gone. Marietta wandered over to the little enclosed area in the corner of the farm, but Tim went into the house. Stairs that led up to nowhere, an empty doorway, a desolate garden. But what Tim saw was a fireplace. Hearth and home. Something that had been part of his grandparents’ lives, his father and uncle’s childhood.
“And now it’s mine,” he thought. “And I could be the one to light a fire in it, make a home here once again.” Marietta covered her face and wept by the tiny graveyard. Their lovely holiday gone: they’d both have to go back to that hot and dusty city and look for temporary jobs. Their holiday fund gone too – all the fun they’d been planning. Back to Mrs McCready’s lodging house for her and Tim’s even drearier room for him. “Don’t cry.” Tim had never seen Marietta cry before – at least not like this.
“Look – this was a thriving farm once. I bet we can make a go of it again.” He looked down at the graves by his feet. Hector Dale and Mildred Dale. My family, he thought. I will make a proper home, here, where my family once lived. “Let’s give it a go Marietta. Let’s see if we can bring this place back to life again. There’s water here – maybe with some proper irrigation, some sprinklers…” And a week later they were planting their first seeds of what was hopefully going to be a thriving farm – one day.
Tim had been to the town hall and got the taxes reduced, on the basis that this was not a flourishing farm at all! They’d be raising them again, but only in proportion to the value of the farm.
They had sleeping bags with them, they’d found an old fire-pit at the back of the tumbledown barn and Marietta had sacrificed a few more boards from it to make a couple of chairs.
It was a crazy venture, Marietta thought, but they might just achieve it. And Tim was her best friend, had been for years. This was what you did for your friends – helped them chase after their crazy dreams. In the little family graveyard Tim had buried his parents’ ashes, spent the last of his money on two headstones for them, brought his family back together on the old farm that, one day, he hoped would be a family home for himself. And maybe his children too…

Special rules for this one: You can set the age to whatever you want.
You can set the seasons to whatever you want. I made it for Lucky Palms so I gave them a long summer and a short winter.
Try and fulfil as many fun wishes, like going to a gig, as you can. They’re young and this was going to be their holiday!
The fireplace has to stay – Tim’s attached to it.
Tim needs to have a family!

The gravestones are in Tim’s backpack – you can put them in on the farm if you like playing with ghosts, or stick them in the cemetery if you don’t.
Full rules at the beginning of this thread.
http://forums.thesims.com/en_US/discussion/920867/the-renovacy-challenge-a-new-and-short-challenge#latest
Download the lot here:
https://www.thesims3.com/assetDetail.html?assetId=9204434

The Hutchins and Mojica Renovacy Chapter 10

Chapter 10. Viriato. “Look, Desmond, we can’t go on like this. And we don’t have to.”
Desmond was a simple soul – he had his father’s single-mindedness, yes, but also his mother’s sunny and open nature.
“You’re right,” he said. Things had been strained between them ever since Viriato’s outburst the night of the prom. He waited for Viriato to apologise, to admit that he and Uiara were no longer children, and that they were on the right track. Behind them, Queen’s Hope drank deeply from the water Desmond had just brought for her. Viriato took a deep breath, and Desmond waited patiently, trying to project calmness and openness.
“Eugenio graduates this year. That only leaves Tesni at school. The four of us can support her – and that woman and her children can go.” No-one had ever seen Desmond lose his temper before. Okay, he had red hair, but the proverbial hot-headedness that was supposed to go with it had toally passed him by. Until today.
“That woman? Her name’s Reggie. And she’s my aunt. She’s part of my family. And where would they go?”
“Well, I don’t know…”
“And you don’t care either, do you?”
Uiara had told Desmond, and the younger ones, about some of her conversation with Reggie. “She’s given up years of her life, to take on a bunch of children including a sulky, stroppy teenage boy and bring them up, and this is how you want to repay her? Chuck her out with her children? Well I’m having no part in that! And nor will any of the others. You’re out-voted!” Fern’s family were seriously wealthy. This was the ‘little’ sitting room – and it was bigger than the whole sitting room at home. Normally Viriato felt quite ill-at-ease in Fern’s opulent family home, but today he was so desperate that it didn’t bother him. Fern could see that he was nearly at breaking-point too, and her heart turned over inside her for him.
She did love Viriato very much indeed. But…and it was the ‘but’ that had made her put the brakes on the relationship some while ago, kept her from taking that next step, offering Viriato something more than close friendship. “Viriato, what’s wrong?”
Fern had talked to her dad about her misgivings, and he’d agreed with her, praised her for her insight – and self-control! Was she about to find out what lay beneath the surface? She did! It all came tumbling out – Viriato’s obsession with getting Regina and her illegitimate brats out of the house, his desire for the others to have steady, stable careers with good pensions, his total sense of betrayal that neither Desmond nor Uiara would back him up in this…This was a mess, and she was in way over her head!
Fortunately she had someone at hand who could help. Her consultant-level psychologist, trained counsellor dad. And Viriato wasn’t going to be given the option of backing out of talking to him. An hour or so later, Viriato was sitting in the same room beginning what would be the first of many deep and painful conversations with Fern’s father. “You did so right to call me in on this. I really don’t like the state this young man is in – but I don’t think he’s a danger to himself or anyone else. Just very confused. Fern, you love him, don’t you?”
“I do.” She sighed. “But…”
“He needs help right now. And I’m willing to give it – on a very non-professional basis. On a family basis, in fact. I think there’s a lot of good in there, but it’s got overlaid. What I wanted to ask you was: how would you feel about him moving in here for a while? I think he needs to get away from his family, and we’ve got the space. Your mother says yes, but what about you?” “He’d have to lighten up a bit, wouldn’t he, with Philip and the others around. And give up his I-am-responsible-for-everything attitude? And he’s used to a large family. And he can’t have me and ignore the rest of you. He needs to get to know us anyway. Yes. Let’s give it a go.” “You snuck off to hide, didn’t you?” Regina had finally run Uiara to earth in Desmond’s bedroom.
“Yep,” Uiara said, grinning unrepentantly. “This bed’s really uncomfortable though – I think Desmond needs a new one.”
“Once the final extension’s built,” Regina said absentmindedly. “Uiara – about Viriato…” The smile disappeared.
“Now that is just one big mess. And, honestly Reggie, I don’t know what any of us can do. He wants Eugenio, Desmond and I to all get boring jobs, Tesni to go to university – and he’s quite happy to throw you, Charlie and Henrietta out with nowhere to go. Desmond told him where to get off in no uncertain terms. I’ve told the younger ones that he’s just gone to stay with Fern for a bit. Eugenio swallowed that hook, line and sinker – you know what he’s like.”
“Lovely, but a bit dopey sometimes,” Regina agreed.
“And the younger ones are just relieved. Have you noticed how happy your two are without him around?”
Regina had. Uiara swung her legs off the bed, ready to go and Do Something Useful, but Regina spoke again, slowly and painfully.
“You’re right. But I do feel like I failed him so badly.” The hurt in Reggie’s voice was unmissable. Uiara cast around in her mind for something helpful to say.
“He always was moody and difficult. Mum said he was sometimes just like Dad when she first met him. But she could usually coax Viriato out of it. With a bit of time! Was Dad really moody and odd when they first met? You must have known him. Come for a walk and talk to me about him.”
She looked out of the window at the snowy landscape and added, “A short walk though!” “Do you know, it still feels like a treat to be able to just walk out of the house!” It was a casual comment, but it made Uiara think even more deeply about what Reggie had given up in looking after them all.
“Your dad – he was a funny one at first! I’d forgotten: but he was moody, difficult, no social skills worth mentioning. Aurora fell for him though, saw the real Lincoln inside there, took him in hand and forced him to get some counselling. It made all the difference.”
“How? And why? I mean, how did he change and why did he need the counselling?”
“His parents. They were really abusive. Not obviously – it was all mental stuff, mind games. And Lincoln just retreated. Some people would have fought it, but he just went into his own little world. That’s why you never met your grandparents, why it was always me who was going to be your guardian. Only I never expected to actually have to do it when I said yes!” “Do you think Viriato is trying to play mind games with us?” Uiara was suddenly anxious.
“No, I don’t. I think he’s done what Lincoln did though, and retreated into his own little world. I just feel so bad that I didn’t help him more right back at the beginning.”
“Hey, Reggie, don’t be sad. I think you’ve done brilliantly by the rest of us. You’ve listened to us. Viriato – he wouldn’t do that. It was like he had a story in his head and we were all just characters in it, not people in our own right.” Then, with a change of tone, “It’s cold out here! Let’s go home!” “Choc chip cookies,” Tesni said cheerfully. “It’s that sort of day!” Tesni’s Christmas present (well, sort of Tesni’s) had been a baking oven. The kitchen was being changed around again. The garden produce had paid for that – Queen’s Hope was financing the extension. The kitchen was looking a bit less sparse now, Regina thought, as she went to wash her hands. A moment later, she was decidedly wet! And a slight snigger from behind her told her who she had to thank!
“You monster! Wait until you’re not making me something delicious to eat! I will tickle you until you beg for mercy!” Tesni had always been really ticklish. They had chairs now in the sitting room, and a rug, and it would be curtains next. Uiara sat down near the fire with her book and relaxed. Another couple of days and the holidays would be over, but for now she was going to enjoy them. The smell of Tesni’s baking drew them all into the kitchen.
“I’ll mop that up, Reggie.” said Henrietta, laughing at her rather damp mother.
“Uiara! Cookies!” Eugenio yelled. “Finish your homework afterwards, Tesni. Come and eat with us.”
Viriato would have said homework first, Tesni thought. But as long as she did it, did a half-hour delay really matter? “These are great, Tesni. Maybe I’ll let you off after all. I’ll only tickle you half to death.”
Like Uiara earlier, Tesni was unrepentant though! Spring was coming. Slowly but surely. The house was finished, at least as far as all major building work went. Uiara, to her delight, had got what she thought was the nicest bedroom in the house, a hodge-podge of strange angles and corners. Tesni and Henrietta had moved bedrooms – “Again!” – but this bedroom was bigger and lighter. The bathrooms had been shuffled round – “Again!” – though Regina still didn’t have a bath yet.
The boys’ rooms were unchanged – Viriato’s still dark and silent. But he was beginning to make contact – he’d only spoken to Eugenio so far, but that was a start. And enough for now. Downstairs was still being furnished…the main kitchen was getting an upgrade as they could afford it, and the old units were being recycled into the utility room. Though some of them had been moved and recycled so often that they fell to bits in protest at another move!
They’d successfully salvaged enough of the old kitchen floor tiles to do the utility room, and even the kitchen floor had had a facelift. They were going to have to find some way of storing Desmond’s ever-expanding collection of race trophies though – they were everywhere! And Queen’s Hope had something as well – a set of training jumps. And she took to jumping like a duck to water. They’d enter a beginner competition quite soon and see how she shaped. Finn Annan was steadily (and painfully at times!) sorting out Viriato’s thinking. Flora was working on his appearance! First it was a haircut. Then it was, “Either grow a beard properly or shave every day. You look like you only shave once a week and can’t be bothered the rest of the time.”
This was actually true.
“Take some care of yourself and show some pride in yourself!”
But Viriato didn’t mind. It was sort of nice to have someone nagging him. Today Flora was after him again. “Clothes,” she said firmly. “I don’t mind you dressing like a gardener when you’re gardening – that makes sense. But the rest of the time..? And I’m not taking no for an answer. You’ve more than earned them with everything you’ve done round here.” And there they were. A selection of new clothes just for him.
“Fern helped choose them,” Flora had said. “And she’ll be really hurt if you refuse to wear them out of some misguided sense of pride. You have to let people who care about you, give to you.” People who care about you. The words rang in Viriato’s head as he went to find Fern and show her how they looked on him.
“Do you like them? They look great on you.”
“I do really like them. And…” Viriato paused for a moment, but then went on bravely. “All the more because you gave them to me.” He was changing, Fern thought. Three months ago, he’d never have accepted a gift as gracefully as this. He’d never be the life and soul of the party type, but his prickly defences were coming down, he brooded less and less. He was becoming the man he should be – very nurturing, very family-oriented. In fact just the kind of man she wanted at her side for the life she was planning for herself. Time to take off the brakes a little. She leaned closer to him. He still wasn’t getting the message! She knew how much he cared for her – she’d just have to take matters into her own hands. He got the message.
“Really, Fern?”
“Really. But you have to carry on talking to my dad, you know.”
“I know. I know I need to. I’m not there yet, but…”
“We’ll get you there together. All of us.”