Waiting on Spring (A Tiny Home/Land Development Report)

Last night, I heard the spring peepers for the first time this year — not a full chorus, but a few bold frontrunners.

There are still predictions of snow in the weather forecast (in fact, snowflakes are falling as I write this), but I'm hopeful that there won't be any accumulation of snow. It would be great to have relatively clear sailing from here into the summer. Except of course for the inevitable season of rain and mud that passes for spring in Nova Scotia.

Not that I'm complaining. Compared to last winter, this winter has been a walk in the park. And no matter how wet and gross this spring becomes, at least it has already started. This time last year... well, don't get me started.

Now that spring is both officially and apparently here – and my biggest desk-work commitments are out of the way for another 5 months – I'm getting itchy.

I have less than a month left in my winter rental and I'm wild to know how soon I can move onto my land.

Preparation work has been continuing through the winter. More trees have been cut down. There is now a beautiful clearing letting in a ton of sunshine – as well as the fully-cleared actual (second) driveway.

I'm sad this cool stump will have to be
rooted out of the driveway.

Discussions have been happening with many and various people regarding possible construction, septic systems, wells, the driveway and electricity hook-up.

Decisions, decisions

I've had to make some major decisions this winter. 

The biggest decision I faced was whether I should try to winterize Wholehearted House (the tiny house on wheels that I bought a couple of years ago and have lived in for the past two summers) or if I should build a micro cabin.

After consulting with the fellow who created Wholehearted House (out of a 35-foot RV from the late 80s), another good friend who's a builder, my pops and others, I decided that it would not be wise to try to convert my tiny home. It is not meant to be a year-round dwelling. It's a grand (and beloved) dwelling in the summer time, when all the windows can be wide open. And it stays beautifully dry in the winter if it doesn't have a human being in it, producing gallons of moisture. But I've decided that trying to make it habitable year-round would be a misuse of funds and almost definitely a shortcut to major problems with moisture and mold.

However, I love my house and don't want to part with it. I have decided to keep it and use it in three seasons – as quiet, off-grid living/working space and as guest accommodation – or more likely, as my accommodation when I have guests, as I don't imagine all of my guests will be as happy as I am to live free of modern conveniences.

So, what about this micro cabin?

My pops, who always keeps an eye out for tiny home ideas for me, posted this link on my Facebook page a couple of months ago and I fell in love.

Isn't it adorable? Click the link in the paragraph
above to see many more photos.

Interestingly, after my mom saw these pictures, she told me that my Nana (her mom) had really, really wanted an A-frame cabin in the 60s, but ended up with a more traditional style of cottage.

There will definitely be some modifications to the design, but I think this is the general idea I'll be shooting for.

On my birthday this year, I went over to my land for a site inspection with my Builder Friend. We had a good look at the lay of the land and discussed everything that needs to get done.

In the midst of that conversation, I came to another decision, a rather sobering one: I simply can't afford to build my cabin this year.

That's disappointing.

Very disappointing.

I was longing to be settled in one place before winter this year.

But it's better to know and decide now instead of getting in over my head and winding up leveraged to the hilt. Or worse still, making commitments that I can't keep. I'm assembling a team of awesome people whom I really like and the last thing I would want to do would be to make – and then break – promises to them.

So, slow and steady is the order of the day. I am working hard, budgeting and saving as radically as I can (without sucking ALL of the joy out of my life).

With a little luck, I hope to be able to save enough money to build my micro cabin next year.

In the meantime, my immediate needs are a driveway and level spots to put my car and Wholehearted House. Then I'll need to move my tiny house on wheels to my land and set up a small solar rig for my immediate power needs, so I'll be able to work while I'm living there this summer.

The driveway is currently on hold, waiting for spring weight road restrictions to be lifted. And of course, because the path of my driveway has changed, I need to get a new estimate.

This spring, I want to make some raised beds and plant a garden. I also hope to be able to have a well dug (or drilled) and possibly put in my septic system this fall.

I have lots of research to do and decisions to make. Fortunately, I am surrounded by experienced friends who are generously willing to mentor me and help with ideas, advice, skill and labour.

And, since it will all take some time to get this project off the ground, I am also lucky to have a number of friends and neighbours who have offered to share their infrastructure through the summer so I'll have access to water, showers and laundry.

I'm looking forward to my summer in the woods. Conditions will be rustic in the extreme, and hopefully also peaceful in the extreme.

Well, adventurously peaceful.

Austerity measures (aka Living Within One's Means)

I started budgeting almost a year ago, using YNAB. (The chain of events that led to my decision to start budgeting are described in this earlier post).

At first, it didn't make much difference, to be honest. I started tracking what I spent. I developed a better sense of how much money was in my bank accounts and what was racked up on my credit cards, which made a change from my usual frantic checking and hoping. 

But for a long time, my spending behaviours did not alter. Not in the least. I still spent more than I was taking in. I didn't save up for coming expenditures, like the quarterly misery of filing my HST, money that I had collected from clients but which was mysteriously spent rather than reserved. 

Then, somewhere in the last month of 2016, I had a few epiphanies: 

• It's actually better for me not to spend money I don't have. 
• Many of the things I think of as necessities are actually luxuries.
• I want to get my home set up this year more than I want to do most other things.
• Getting my home set up without a lot of debt is going to mean saving every cent I can.

As a result, I have stopped spending money. Almost entirely. This makes me think of Augusten Burrows' wonderful "self-help" book: This is How. In it, there is a chapter about how to lose weight that basically says: All you have to do is want to be skinny more than you want to eat pastries and chocolate bars.

That may never happen for me, but something has clicked in my head and I actually want to create a home for myself more than I want to go out and have a good time or go on a trip or even help someone else out (which is not to say that I didn't give to charity this year. I did, I just did it within my budget).

And so, the booze budget is struck to zero. The entertainment budget, the junk food budget, the restaurant budget likewise (well, after a couple of mandatory post-holiday get-togethers with friends this week). The grocery budget is leaner – no treats, no shortcuts, just good, wholesome, prepare-from-scratch food. If I want sweets, I have to bake them.

It's been an absolute revelation. It used to be that when I wanted a restaurant or fast food meal, I just bought one. Now, when I think to myself, I don't want to cook, I want to grab a slice of pizza, the next thought comes into my head is I don't have that in my budget. When I want to grab a Coke and a chocolate bar, same thing. It hasn't even been that difficult. It's weird. It's like I suddenly grew up and the little bratty kid who wants everything right away is being reasonable and quietly nodding her head while I explain: You're going to have to wait, darling. Right now we can't afford it. She's not even being pout-y about it (at least, not often).

I think it helps that I know I don't have much money coming in this month or next. These are lean times.

But, wonder of wonders, I actually have my money ready to pay my HST at the end of the month. And I'm working on saving for my income tax. I've stopped using one of my three credit cards entirely. The other two are at about one-tenth of the amount they were this time last year.

This all feels like good progress in the right direction.

And every cent I can scrape together will go toward my house fund.