Construction: Weeks 9, 10, 11 and 12

I have been struggling to write this blog post. It has been postponed from week to week.

I have been busy, doing a lot of manual labour out at the site and a lot of desk work the rest of the time. And these weeks have felt challenging; I have been frequently overwhelmed.

Rather than not writing a blog post about these weeks at all, I am resorting to a classic cheat borrowed from William Goldman's A Princess Bride:

What with one thing and another, four weeks passed:

I had some trouble finding someone willing to dig my well and install my septic system, but fortunately, my plumber was able to recommend someone excellent. We walked the land and he recommended the place for the well, very close to the massive felled maple log that was dropped when my power lines were installed last year. It was going to need to be cut up and moved. So, I boldly set about cutting it into shorter logs with my small chainsaw. At one point, I pinched my saw and had to free it with a hand saw. One of the joys of being a rookie... 

A rare view of the low side of the cabin.

In Week 9, the cabin was wired

Roxul insulation getting stockpiled

Week 10: Excavator, on the job!

The septic tank

The septic field

The septic system covered with fill, seeded with clover and covered with hay.

Guess what got dug up? Rocks! Now placed aesthetically along my driveway

Meanwhile, in the house, the interior walls were being insulated. 

And I drove to Ross Farm museum to pick up the barn door hardware they had made for me.

Here's the hatch for my firewood pass-through.

The excavator, resting after its labours.

I take a time-out to appreciate the beauty of a wee, still-red oak

Over the weekend between Weeks 10 and 11, the house sees its first light dusting of snow

Week 11: The well gets dug.

 They went down about 14 feet and there was so much water that the excavation crew could hardly level the first crock before the water was threatening to come in over their boots. Here is the well after the concrete apron has been poured. (The next day the water rose up over the apron!) I feel like I have won the rural home lottery! 

My awesome plumber comes and installs the well-line and pump

Bright blue well line for the water and rainbow electrical wire for the pump – pretty! 

Next, the trench was dug for the well-line. We hit a snag here, but I don't want to talk about it. Suffice it to say, we got through it. 

Guess what else got dug up? More rocks! Including some really, really big ones.

Meanwhile, I was working on augmenting the insulation around the slab, having fun with an exacto knife and a pickaxe.

And inside, the insulation and vapour barrier were complete and the drywall was delivered and stored ready for the following week.

Week 12 began with the site in a great big mess.

(Trenches can be beautiful, though).

With the trench for the well line dug and filled back in, next was the trench to bring power from my shed to the house. 

The electrical cable and the conduit containing my internet cable had to be seated in sand and inspected before the trench could be filled back in.

Where the electrical service enters the cabin.

In the cabin, the drywall was going up.

Outside, I was unearthing some pretty big rocks in the process of regrading the land around the house to lay insulation out two feet from the slab at an angle of 4 degrees (or more). Some of the rocks were too heavy for me to move. Fortunately, my stellar carpentry crew helped me roll the biggest ones out of the way.

Here's one corner of the insulation around the outside of the slab.

On the last day of the excavation work, my well and septic contractor brought me a load of Class A as a bonus – I will use it to backfill against my house, over the slab insulation. 

While putting together the photo essay portion of this post, I think I have found a few words to say. 

These four weeks felt intense. I was on-site a lot. On the one hand, it was lots of fun to be at the heart of the action. I really like all of the people working on the project, so it was great to hang out and indulge in a little banter.

At the same time, though, I was working hard: digging, digging and more digging. It was good for me, but at the same time exhausting and hard on my joints. (I've started going to see a chiropractor again after a 7-year break and it is rescuing me from immobilization).

While it was physically grueling, it didn't require any particular skills. It was a part of the job that I could do, and I needed to invest all the sweat equity that I could because somewhere in these four weeks, I ran out of money. Which is to say that I ran out of my money, money that I had or had access to on my own responsibility.

This project has been more expensive than I hoped. That is always said of building projects and that's because it's probably always true. There is so much to do, especially so much infrastructure to establish for a rural house.

Fortunately, I have friends and family to help me out and they have encouraged me to keep going. Many have provided moral support and encouragement, some have loaned tools and equipment, others have given their time to help, some have loaned and some have given me money to help make it possible for me to complete this project. I feel very, very lucky and very, very grateful.

And at the same time, I'm pretty stressed. I didn't want to take on this much debt. I foresee some austerity measures and as much desk work as I can get my hands on for the next 3-5 years.

I do feel, though, that it is worth it. I have such a longing for a home of my own. It is starting to feel very real; I am getting to the point where I can visualize living in my home: reading, doing jigsaw puzzles, having dinner parties and summer visitors. Having a place to be myself, to be content, to be free and safe and peaceful.

And what a place it is. The Crooked Wood continues to provide me with a blessed sense of belonging. Each time I arrive there and breathe that first breath of forest air, I feel something sacred fill me: mind, body, heart and soul.

The thought of being able to live in my own home, cozily, year round, is worth the debts and the stresses and the challenges of this process.

It's simply where I feel I'm meant to be.

Simply spring

Spring is often a bumpy ride in Nova Scotia. The weather can fluctuate wildly. In my thin-walled shelter, at 27°C and sunny, I shuck most of my clothes and sweat at my desk, while at 11°C and rainy, I sit here huddled by my small electric space heater and try to focus on work as well as I can. 

And some days, like today, I experience both of those extremes within a few hours of one another! 

Work seems to be the common thread through everything for me these days – whatever the weather. I have a lot of desk-work on the go, which is a blessing, since I am doing everything I can to gather up money to build a cabin here in the fall. 

Also, living here entails work. For one thing, I have the added responsibilities of my garden: planting, weeding, watering. And since I don't have running water or a fridge, it is work to try to keep things clean – or at least sanitary enough to prevent food-borne illnesses. The ice packs from my little chest freezer need to be swapped in and out of the cooler on a regular basis; washing the dishes is a major production that involves boiling the kettle several times. 

I try to keep things as simple as I can – with one-pan meals made in my cast-iron frying pan, which can often be wiped clean without needing to be washed per se. To be honest, I often eat my meals right out of the frying pan, too. Saves on washing plates. 

And then, there are the nightly sweeps for ticks: more efficient and faster now that I've figured out that I can run my bug-zapper racquet through my bedding before I go to sleep. 

Admittedly, this life is not always comfortable. There are times when I desperately need to wash and it's too cold (or I'm feeling too lazy) to boil the kettle and sponge myself down. Or when my hair is beyond needing a lick and a promise and needs a good hearty scrub. Fortunately, I have friends and family who are always ready to offer showers – and also refuge on the coldest nights. 

It amuses me when I think of what my life was like 10 years ago – the air conditioning, the long soaks in the tub, the consumption of clothing, housewares, appliances, and on and on. I mean, I used to think nothing of buying things like a Cuisinart ice cream maker! 

My former life feels so wasteful and empty to me now. And silly. And meaningless. And thoughtless. Just a typical white middle-class kid doing what she thought she was supposed to do – and having what she felt entitled to have. 

While I admit that I am looking forward to having hot and cold running water again eventually, I am currently enjoying the spartan pleasures of this simple life. I am focused on the deep joy of being here. I love the days when I don't have to go anywhere else. There will be many of them this summer. My garden is starting to provide fresh food on a daily basis. My pantry is well-stocked. My guitar and my muse are both here. Ideas are flowing. Feelings are fluid and plentiful. Sleep is deep and long (except when the moon is full). The trees shelter me. Salinger graces me with his fluffy presence. I am safe. I am at home. 

Set up! (A tiny home/land development report)

Well, well, well.

Here we are.

Yesterday morning, Eastlink came and connected my Internet. And now I am comfortably geared up here until October.

The Internet hook-up was the stickiest piece of this whole process! It required FOUR separate calls to Eastlink. TWO of them were required to try to sort out the mess made on the first call. And I had two separate technician visits. It required a bit of patience, but we got there in the end. 

I am proud and happy to announce the end of Phase 1 of this project. Seven and half weeks to get from a space cleared out among the trees to home, garden, shed, civic address, mail delivery, electricity and high-speed Internet. I am pretty impressed with everyone I've worked with to make this happen (except for that first – #facepalm – contact at Eastlink). I have been blessed with professional, efficient, respectful and pleasant people working on this project. 

I feel very happy to be settled for the rest of the summer, without any more major projects needing to be undertaken on my land. My main focus now is to buckle down and work hard at my computer to save up for Phase 2. There is a slight chance that I might decide to dig a well this summer, but for now, I continue to be grateful for my water-sharing neighbours, friends and family members.

My folks have given me a small chest freezer to put in my shed which means I can easily make ice to keep my cooler cool, and I have longer term food storage – between the freezer, my garden, electricity and Internet access, I won't need to go into town as frequently.

Essentially, I am content. Deeply content. And so is Salinger, who is contemptuously licking one of his back legs as I write this (he is cold-shouldering me because I did not respond with glee to stepping on a disembodied rodent face in the house this morning).

This is probably my last tiny home update for a while (except for some possible garden updates through the summer). Stay tuned for writing on other topics.

The shed: Part 3 (A Tiny Home/Land Development Report

It's been a busy week! Saturday and Monday were wrapping and shingling.

By Tuesday, only the back and edges still needed to be shingled:

 

Yesterday, the shed was basically completely finished! There are only a couple of little touches left to be added. One week from nothing to beautiful shed – amazing!

This morning, the electricians came and did most of the work needed to hook up power.

The meter case being installed on the back of the shed

The roof sprouts wires!

My mostly-assembled electrical panel

Of course, there are still quite a few stages to complete.

The electricians will be back tomorrow to complete their work.

The shed will be inspected on Monday.

The power company will come to install the power poles and lines and then hook the shed up with electricty. I've been told to expect that I should have power in two weeks – or less! Super-exciting!

Editorial note: I linked to Tilia Builders in part 2 of this series, but didn't link to them again here and they deserve huge thanks and big shout-outs for their impressively quick, high-quality, extremely beautiful work! 

Also, here are links to Part 2 and Part 1 of this series for anyone who missed them.

Settling In: Ups and Downs, Hugelkultur and Clotheslines

Salinger and I have been here, in our Wholehearted House in The Crooked Wood, for a little more than a week, but it feels like longer. Partly because a lot has been packed into each day and partly because this place fits us like a favourite, well-worn sweater.

This time has felt very full and rich. With lots of rainy and overcast weather right off the bat, we have been alternately calm and cosy, blue and snoozy, chilly and shivery and brisk and busy.

Infrastructure is definitely a challenge. With no way to charge my computers and plenty of desk work to do, I am forced off the property periodically. It's probably good for me to have a reason to see people, because otherwise I think I would be a total recluse. I am not feeling very social these days.

The other day, as I was trying to do a piece of work, I watched my laptop battery count down: 4%, 3%, 2% (your computer will shut down soon if you don't connect it to a power supply), 1% – as I desperately copied the files I needed off onto a stick and transferred them over to my other laptop, which still had about 50% of its battery remaining.

I'm managing, but I am also trying to figure out an alternate power solution and/or office space. When I lived without electricity two summers ago, I had an external office in a neighbouring home, but this time around, I haven't succeeded in finding a similar situation. Fortunately, my new place is only a 15-minute drive to Bridgewater and I am enjoying the benefits of part-time membership at co3 – a pretty groovy little spot.

The Big Ups

I am actually relaxed. It is quiet and peaceful here. Well, "nature quiet", which is to say that there are tons of song birds in the canopy of trees and plenty of peepers at night.

I feel at home here. I feel like I belong in these woods.

I have been receiving a lot of help from a lot of people.

And, I have very nice neighbours.

The Big Downs

There have been a couple of struggles, for sure. I hit a snag with my building permit for my shed (the shed to which NSPower is going to eventually connect electricity) last week when it was pointed out to me that I had not fulfilled a prerequisite: acquiring permission from the Department of Transportation and Infrastructure Renewal for permission to build a structure within 100 metres of the centre of the road. Fortunately, the DOT was super-awesome, processed the request in 4 days and went out of their way to provide me with a scanned copy that I could quickly send to the municipality (because for some reason, they wouldn't accept photographs of the hardcopy that I took in my car – LOL).

My other big down happened when Salinger took off for almost 24 hours last week, which had me doubled over with worry. I was afraid he had been eaten by coy-wolves or set upon by a gang of savage neighbourhood cats. But he was just off exploring and came back, hungry, uninjured and unrepentant, all in his own good time. I am very grateful to my Facebook community for helping me stay calmer during his absence. Damn, but I'm attached to the little fella.

Hugelkultur

On Friday, a friend for whom I did some design work this past winter came to return the favour by sharing his expertise with me. He is a gardening guru and together we set up my first (and I'm thinking, not my last) hugelkultur raised bed. Hugelkultur is a permaculture technique, involving making mounds out of rotting wood (abundantly available here). We also used seaweed, peat moss, dirt, dead leaves, twigs and a few soil additions like lime, wood ash and rock phosphate.

Hugelkultur: basically a big pile of organic
matter – rotting logs at the bottom, then
twigs, brush with seaweed and dead leaves
to fill in the cracks...

And soil on the top. All of it later mulched
with seaweed.

I'm very excited about my hugelkultur bed! And I also have another raised bed that my sweet folks gave me as a land-warming present last Saturday. So far I have planted blue potatoes (in seaweed), onions, peas, beans and spinach. Now I just have to find more of the seeds I bought last year and never planted...

The Clothesline

I don't know what it is about clotheslines, but to me they feel like home. Home is where you can have a clothesline. I haven't had a clothesline in a long time. Probably 15 years. Apartments often don't have them. By chance, the houses I have rented in have not had them. Stretching freshly washed clothes out over a fire escape is just not the same.

It has been one of my highest wishlist items for my own place. Shortly after moving to The Crooked Wood, I found myself at Gow's Home Hardware buying a pitchfork, some electrical tape, a big, purple, plastic laundry basket and a clothesline kit. And some clothespins.

On Saturday, I did a huge load of wash at the Bridgewater laundromat (When I have a back-log of three+ loads, I like to take them to the BIG MACHINE where the wash can be all done and dusted in 20 minutes). I came home committed to install my clothesline all by myself. And I did! It took me three tries, plagued by blackflies, struggling with the technical aspects of the task – I found it difficult driving in the screw hooks, working over my head, on tip-toes. The clothesline itself got super-tangled right away. (I blame this on being left-handed in a right-handed world. Cables, wires, extension cords – they are all wound up with right-handed people in mind.) Twice I gave up and ran from the bugs. But I kept going back out and by the end of my third foray, I had installed my clothesline. It's a little low (I'm short and don't yet own a ladder) – and I feel fairly certain that some people will snicker at it when they see it – but it runs smoothly and it works! I dried my clothes on it today and they smell amazing. (It has been a long-held aspiration of mine to have sheets that smell as amazing as my mom's and I think I've achieved my goal!)

My beloved clothesline – the quintessence of "Home".

I am not handy. But I hate feeling helpless. I am happy to outsource a lot of tasks, but I also like to know that I can take care of something like this when I want or need to. I feel a sense of accomplishment from doing something that I am not innately good at – something that was difficult and frustrating – and which, now done, will add greatly to the quality of my life.