Welcome to the glass house. This 150-foot building, circa early 1900s, is one of our biggest challenges at the farm. The glass is single-paned, uninsulated, fragile, and so dirty, it may as well be wallpaper. The painted wood is peeling and moss-covered, but underneath is solid redwood, still as hard and intact as the day it was milled. We don’t know what to do with the structure. Every visitor who enters through one of its four doors falls instantly in love and urges us to rehab. Every tradesman who has been asked to submit a bid assures us he would relish the chance to work on it, but he cannot predict the costs. “You know,” my friend Patrick says, “restoration means they take a shop vac to your wallet.”