Construction: Weeks 6, 7 and 8

These were three more big and periodically overwhelming weeks. 

Week 6

Progress continued to be rapid in Week 6, with the cabin quickly getting sheathed and wrapped, in time for a couple of stormy days.  

All closed in. Photo courtesy of Anckaert Built. 

That's a wrap! Photo courtesy of Anckaert Built.

Week 6 ended on a bumpy note. The locks I'd purchased for the doors didn't fit in the holes that had been drilled in the doors. I had failed to specify the size of the holes when I ordered the doors, so they had reverted to the default size, which I didn't realize would be different from the holes in the door of my shed. So, when I bought the same kind of locks, they didn't fit. 

I admit that I had a meltdown that day, in the parking lot of the Superstore in Bridgewater. Not very fun, or pretty to look at. Often, it is difficult for me to make mistakes or feel like I am out of my depth. And there has been more than enough of that in this project. The learning curve is steep. The problem with the locks was not high stakes, but it felt that way to me on that Friday afternoon.

Fortunately, I keep learning how to ride my own emotions more gracefully. And after talking with people in every hardware store in town, none of whom seemed to have the least clue about how locks are installed or what the measurements on the packaging referred to, I felt quite a bit better. I mean, if it's part of their job and they don't know, it seems more than fair that I don't know either. 

On Saturday, in my absence, the slab contractors came back and added styrofoam to the outside edges of the slab. I would have liked the styrofoam to extend a little further down – I plan to correct that when I add the insulation "skirt" to the building. 

Week 7

The beginning of Week 7 felt about the same as the end of week 6. I came over on Monday morning with new sets of locks and doorknobs, but I wasn't able to install them, because the doors needed to be prepped first and that lies a bit too far beyond my skill set and comfort zone.

The crew wasn't on site that day because of the rain, rain that came with high winds that later on blew a tree down on the power line that runs from the road to my shed:

So, there was no power on site Tuesday morning, which meant that the crew were only able to work a half-day until the batteries wore down on their tools. 

On the plus side, they were able to use some of that time get the locks installed, so my house is now lockable. 

Two more keys to add to my strangely large (and strangely beloved) ring of keys.

I came over in the afternoon on Tuesday and hung around waiting for the power company crew to show up and fix the lines. Fortunately, it was warm enough that I could sit outside and do deskwork most of the afternoon.

Expected restoration time for my power was 3pm, then updated to 6pm. Shortly before 6 pm, the forestry crew showed up and deftly cut the tree off the lines, bless them. My restoration time was updated to 9pm and I went home.

Before I went to bed, my restoration time had been updated to 11pm. I was afraid that it was going to keep getting pushed back into the next day, but fortunately, in the morning, power had been restored and work could resume at full tilt. 

For the construction crew, Week 7 was all about strapping and adding trim. I didn't come back to the site until Friday afternoon. 

The Heart of this project

As I got out of my car, I was struck by the delicious smell of The Crooked Wood. I had parked in the turnout to keep the driveway clear for the other folks on site. So, I strolled down the driveway and was greeted by the sound of music and banter and the sight of the crew working cheerfully and efficiently. I have a huge sense of gratitude for all of the good energy that I feel is being infused into my home, with each board and nail, each piece of siding and sheet of metal. 

My tiny house was converted by a very good-hearted person; I feel that energy all the time when I'm in Wholehearted House. I knew it was important to me to have good-hearted people work on my permanent home, too. 

• • • 

I spent the afternoon of that last Friday of Week 7 sanding down the door that I bought on Kijiji which is going to be hung, barn-door style, at the entrance to the bathroom. I love this door – with a single pane of textured glass, it reminds me of a door to a private investigator's office in a typical noir film from the 40s. 

Sanding is relaxing.

I love how distressed this big ol' monster is. 

In addition to the work that can be seen happening in these photos, I was also trying to figure out solutions and get estimates for work on digging the well and septic system. There are a lot of challenges there, many of which I'm still working through. There were moments when I felt extremely frustrated with red tape and with people not getting back to me.

The cabin at the end of Week 7

A little autumn beauty spot in #TheCrookedWood. I love how oak trees are among the last to lose their leaves. 

Naked maple

Week 8 went somewhat more smoothly. There was more progress and the crew were able to start putting the siding on the exterior. There were also more rain days, and for me, more frustration trying to nail down the situation with the well and septic. But there were no more downed power lines! And I call that an improvement!

I wasn't on-site much myself during Week 8. I had desk work to do and it has gotten too cold for me to sit still and work on the site. And, there wasn't much I could contribute by being there, so I mostly kept out of the way.

The plumber came and did the behind-the-walls plumbing.

I imagine most people don't find this kind of infrastructure beautiful, but I do. It's so neat and orderly and enables me to envision what the finished bathroom is going to look like.

And, here's the exterior of the house at the end of Week 8. 

My outdoor tap in the foreground <3

Looking good! I don't want to tempt the fates by saying this, but I think I might be halfway through... 

Quitter (Part 2)

Booze

So, more than 3 months ago, I stopped drinking alcohol.

Compared to quitting soda pop it was a snap to do. I think I looked at my quit app to remind myself  maybe once a week for the first month or so? Compared to hourly checks when I first quit drinking Coca-Cola.

Which in a way is not too surprising. I was a daily Coke-drinker when I quit pop. A first-thing-in-the-morning, jonesing, sugar fix desperado. And, while I have been a daily alcohol-drinker at times during my life, I wasn't at the time when I quit. I was probably having 1-5 drinks a week, depending on my social calendar.

Now I only look at my app when someone is cajoling me to have a glass of something and I want an easy way to explain why the answer is "no". Hey, I'm three months in. The quit app is the new AA token.

My quit app on Day 90. It has taken me a while to finish this post; I am now at Day 102.

Why?

I decided to stop drinking for 6 months to find out if there was a correlation for me between alcohol consumption and the hot flashes and mood swings I was experiencing as symptoms of peri-menopause. Back in July, I noticed those symptoms had ramped up big-time. I went from experiencing one or two hot flashes a week to several every day. And my mood swings became more severe, too. The lows that had been lasting 2-3 days started lasting 2-3 weeks.

I was about to throw myself on the mercy of the nearest naturopath when I thought to myself, am I doing everything I can do? Am I eating right, getting regular exercise? Why not run an experiment to see if alcohol is a trigger for me? Are these things not worth a try before I spend hundreds of bucks (that I don't have to spare) on alternative medicine?

The proof is in the pudding (and I'm not talking about 150-overproof)

Three months in, I feel fantastic. I still have some hot flashes, but rarely more than one a day and often none at all. My mood seems a lot more stable, too. And, I feel more "with it" emotionally. It seems clear to me, that I am in the subset of people for whom alcohol has an impact on peri-menopausal symptoms. 

Of course, it might not be the alcohol itself that is the agent of change here.

I've been thinking lately about the phrase "The opposite of addiction is connection" and the ideas that go along with that (if this is the first time you're encountering that phrase, you might want to take 17 minutes to check out this TED talk).

I think it's possible that the act of not drinking has opened me up to more connection: with myself, my life, the world, my feelings and my friends and family. If we sometimes drink to make up for a lack of connection, I wonder if choosing not to drink alcohol can make it easier for us to connect?

Connection has never been particularly easy for me. Since I started drinking at age 19, alcohol has been my main medication for my struggles with connection and intimacy – and like many western medications, while it does nothing to cure the root cause and has terrible side effects, it does do a pretty good job at masking symptoms. Alcohol often succeeded at numbing the feelings I had about my struggles with connection. But drinking also made it harder for me to have authentic connections – and, well, I'm sure you can see the potential for a vicious cycle there...

A new leaf

I feel like I'm spiralling up. I think that not drinking is helping me to get better at connecting. I'm not sure where that's going to take me. What I can say is that I am loving the experience of not drinking. I feel more like myself. And I like myself more. 

It takes me back to when I was a teenager. I was a little goody two-shoes: no booze, no drugs, no sex, no tobacco. (But lots of cursing.) That was a good space for me at the time. It was simple, and it was a simplicity that I knew I needed then. 

I guess it's not surprising that during the huge hormonal shift of peri-menopause, I am finding comfort in the same strategies I used during my adolescence. Not drinking feels simpler than drinking. And it's a simplicity I know I need right now.

Of course, it's a little weird socially. And culturally. I suddenly notice what a huge emphasis our culture puts on drinking. It runs throughout TV shows, movies, books, music and conversation. Most of my friends and acquaintances (with a few notable exceptions) are drinkers. And I used to be someone who LOVED to drink and often talked and joked about drinking.  

So, I'm adjusting. 

And it feels good. 

Without question, three months is the longest I have gone without drinking alcohol since I was 19. That's 27 years of greater and lesser dependence on alcohol. I'm holding things open, but I expect to breeze through the rest of my 6-month experiment and won't be surprised to see it transform into 12 months, which may well become 24 months, which may well become...

PS: Unlike pop, where I have an occasional bottle or can, quitting booze has been an experience of 100% compliance. I'm not saying I haven't had a few times when I badly wanted a drink – like the day I moved for example, and some of the more stressful days during my building project – but so far I have wanted to not drink more than I wanted to drink.

PPS: Just for fun, here's one of my favourite laments about going sober: Coffee Dogs by the redoubtable Kevin Quain. (The only working link I could find for this song is on Spotify, so you'll have to login to listen).

Banjoy: Rhiannon Giddens

Yesterday, I saw the documentary Rumble: The Indians Who Rocked the World. It's a very interesting and revealing film. I learned a lot.

I hope to post more about it later, but for the moment, I'd like to share this song by Rhiannon Giddens, to whose music the documentary introduced me. Pure #banjoy: