The New England Cabin Project

January Check-In

2012-01-14T13:33:00.000-05:00

Thank god for the plowing service - we can finally pull into the driveway in the winter.

Well, I said I was closing down for the year, but I haven’t been up to Shangri-La for a little more than 2 months and it seemed like I should check on the place. Would I find some undrained portion of the plumbing frozen and cracked? A family of squatters relaxing on the porch? An army of mice running wild over every surface?

Last time up we completed the wall board on the 'command center'...

None of these things, as you might expect. The place was quiet, cold, and exactly as we left it. I drove up in a freezing drizzle, and unpacked my tools as the rain turned to snow. I fired up the heat, checked the basement, and set to work. I had planned to complete the electrical – bathroom light/fan combo, wiring for the living area ceiling fan and the track lighting on either side of the bridge – but the snow got intimidating, and I’m pretty cautious after our adventure getting the car stuck last year. We really, really need a 4WD for this place.

...and in the kitchen. I left an access panel to the bath plumbing behind where the fridge will be.

After a few token items – putting up the final two batts of insulation and installing 2 more vertical blinds – I took some pictures and hit the road. And a good thing, too – the snow was slippery enough that my 2WD pickup couldn’t make it up the hill by which we head south, and I had to back down (very slowly!) and loop north back to the highway. 6 hours on the road for 90 minutes of work kinda sucks, but at least I know the place is OK without us.

The insulation half completed in the loft.

Looking Forward to 2012

2011-12-31T09:55:00.002-05:00

2011 saw the transition of the cabin from a place we work on to a place we still mostly work on, but can also occasionally just enjoy. Trips up are a lot less expensive now that we don’t have to book a hotel/inn/campsite and eat out. Not that eating in is exactly easy – a portable grill and a toaster oven only take you so far.

So what’s in store for 2012? I’d like to say we’ll finish everything, but I doubt that will happen. Even done on the cheap, the kitchen will be a chunk of money, and we’ve still got floors, ceilings, the back deck and an endless punch list to deal with. And the remaining insulation work in the ceiling and basement.

I’ll be happy next year if we manage to complete the insulation, build the back deck, finish the wall-boarding in the gables, install the t&g ceilings, and close in the eaves and porch ceiling. If money allows, it would be nice to get the floors down and the spiral stair up, but I don’t expect it.

Right now I’ve got 8 long weekends in Shangri-La on the calendar – roughly one per month from late April through early November. My father is contemplating a trip up and is recommending we ask my sister’s family to join us for another ‘big push’ weekend. Both he and my sister are slave drivers, so that could take us a long way to done.

But for now, a long winter’s nap - Happy New Year, everyone!

Wrapping up 2011

2011-12-28T19:39:00.000-05:00

There were two more trips to Shangri-La in October before we closed up shop for the season. Both were to be family trips, but the vertigo the LSW has been battling combined with a forecast of sub-freezing temperatures, cancelled the second, and I went up alone.

On the first trip, we managed to install the rear porch light, fix the dodgy job I did months ago on the front porch light, fix the non-working heaters (as suspected - loose connections), complete the downstairs drywall and install half of the kitchen tile backer board. Why only half?

To properly install the rear porch light, I had to remove the sheetrock we previously installed around the back door. In doing so, we noticed that the sheetrock and the floor to the left of the door was wet. Somehow we’ve got a little water coming in around (through?) the back door, and I don’t want to do any more work around it until we fix it. I really hate having to ‘revisit’ work we thought was done, but there you go.

Huh...how is this happening?

Given the wood rot at the base of the door, I suspect a bad seal.

Another exciting experience that Saturday: I have a habit of getting to the basement door by using the rock wall next to it as a ladder, leaping from stone to stone like a mountain goat. Or not, the LSW and The Boy can attest by my writhing on the ground, clutching my ankle and spewing obscenities for 10 minutes. By nightfall, I was limping around the cabin contemplating a trip to the hospital. It was a little better the next morning, however, so I soldiered though. Took almost 2 weeks to be back to 100% again, though.

Before we left, I drained the water from the house, and - while I was at it, replaced the well filter. In the pic below, it becomes apparent why we need one.

Old and new filters - see if you can tell which is which!

The second trip was just for the day, and focused almost exclusively on installing the ceiling insulation. This is an awful job. It seems easy, but you end up covered with millions of tiny little prickly fiberglass hairs that drive you crazy and make you feel filthy until you’ve had about 3 showers. I wish I could say I’m done, but there’s still half the ceiling to do.

More lessons learned, by the way: The only cathedral ceiling insulation I could get to fit 24” rafter spacing was 10” thick R-38. This worked insofar as I have 12” rafters and need 2” of airspace for roof ventilation, but it is well shy of the R-50 that code recommends. Thankfully code is not an issue in Shangri-La, but if I had known, I might have opted for 10’ – rather than 8’ – walls to provide room for foam board insulation above the tongue-and-groove ceiling. As it is, there is precious little headroom in the lofts, so R-38 will probably be our max.

Mus musculus

2011-12-27T14:44:00.002-05:00

Die, you adorable little bastard!

I’ve been told that all cabins have mice, no matter what you try to do to keep them out. I’m convinced they can squeeze through a nail hole, but it isn’t necessary as the eaves are still only loosely sealed and the basement door is hardly air-tight. On our last visit, I lay on my cot listening to the scurrying of little feet in the dark hoping the LSW didn’t hear it and cut our trip short. In my mind, I’m rehearsing a speech about the mice we have at home despite the presence of one lazy (though admittedly de-clawed) cat.

When we last left, we made sure all food came with us, and the soft stuff – pillows, sleeping bags, cot pads, etc. – went into plastic bins. Still, I had planned to return to install a more secure ‘inner door’ on the basement entrance, perhaps supplemented by mouse poison or traps. As a good Buddhist, I’m conflicted about this, but it’s unlikely to be an issue now until next spring. With temps in Shangri-La hovering around freezing, and the basement (and hence water) insulation still on the ‘to do’ list, we’re unlikely to be back to do anything except check on the place until spring.

Until then, the mice, unfortunately, have run of the place.

October 3, 2011

2011-10-04T17:45:00.004-04:00

This is the second of the Monday day-trips to work through the punch list before the season ends. I’m up at 4 and out by 5, something I haven’t done since ski trips in college. It’s dark out, overcast and drizzling while I pack up, and the rain continues off and on all the way to Shangri-La.

Next year, a spiral stair will replace the ladder.

I stop for coffee at Dunkin, and then at the Putney Co-op for an egg and cheese and something to stash for lunch. I’m thinking sharp cheddar and some fresh bread, but then a Thai peanut wrap catches my eye and I’m good to go.

At the cabin, the gloom and drizzle make it feel colder than it is, and I turn on the heat and discover that two of the units aren’t working. There’s nothing complex about electric wallboard heaters, so I’m assuming I have a bad connection somewhere. I’m not going to look for it today, however – I prefer to have someone else around when I’m working with 240-volt wiring. Yes, I could just kill the main breaker and have at it, but I’m cautious to the point of superstition with electricity, so I’ll wait until the LSW is up here with me next weekend.

I make the completion of the downstairs wall board the mission of the day. I’m this close to being done, and finishing it will allow me to free up space in the kitchen. The more materials we use or clear out, the more it feels like a living space rather than a construction site.

I’ve got a few big spaces to cover that will require full sheets, but I’ve got smaller areas as well. The first job is to sort through all the scraps to find pieces that have the beveled factory edges meant for taping – you don’t want to cut up a full piece if you have scrap that will work. Despite five full sheets and a lot of good scrap, I work over the next 5 hours and come up 4 sheets short: I need two 3 x 8 pieces – one for the entry and one for the back of the closet – a full sheet for behind the [future] refrigerator, and a 2 ½ x 8 piece for the ‘command center’ (where we have the fuse box, phone, thermostat, well and hot water heater switches). I also need another 4 sheets to cover the gable ends in the loft, so I’m about 8 sheets from being done – approximately $40 in total.

The 'command center'

The work continues to be simplicity itself: Measure, score, snap and cut. If you need a right angle or a cut-out for a gang box, some of the sides will have to be cut with a sheetrock saw: Stab the sheet and then saw. Position the board and screw it in using a cordless drill and sheetrock screws. Voila – Bob’s your uncle.

I interrupted the work only once to rough-in the wiring for the center lights and their 3-way switches. While doing so, I nearly fell off the ladder at the sound of knocking on the porch door. I’m not the nervous type, but we’re just not used yet to getting visitors up here. Turned out to be a representative from FEMA making sure everyone knew how to contact the agency if they had a claim to file in the wake of Irene. Evidence of my tax dollars at work! Having weathered the storm with no damage to speak of, we spent 10-15 minutes talking instead about how one goes from being a desk jockey to building your own place. My response boiled down to overconfidence and a whole lot of books.

An oven, counter and refrigerator will ultimately replace the materials, sawhorses and ladder...

After the last board was up, I cleaned the place thoroughly, stacked the unusable wall board in the truck and reacquainted myself with the remaining tools and materials stacked under what is currently passing for a kitchen countertop (two sawhorses and a bunch of leftover siding). The only surprise was that I had an unopened second container of cement for mounting down the tile backer boards in the kitchen and entry. Bonus! I know what we’ll be doing next week…

Half off hardware goodies!

2011-09-30T11:29:00.000-04:00

We interrupt ... well, nothing really. But I just wanted to alert our Connecticut readers to today's Groupon, which you can bet we jumped on real quick. Ring's End, which has lumber and building supplies, is offering half off certificates. So for $25, you can get $50 worth of stuff, or go for the gold and spend $100 for $200 worth of sheet rock, insulation or other goodies. Check it out HERE. Maybe this means we'll get the downstairs all finished by the end of the fall!

[Vermonster Update: We bought $100 worth, which I used to buy half of the insulation needed for the cathedral ceiling. Bonus!]

September 26, 2011

2011-09-27T18:33:00.001-04:00

I'm taking a break from the usual manic Monday routine to do some work at the cabin. Up at 5, packed and on the road by 6:10. I’m thinking I’d like to see if Brattleboro has cleaned up since the Hurricane, but the traffic into town is significantly backed up and I hop right back onto the highway.

A few more exits up I find I’m able to travel the roads that were blocked during my last trip. There’s earth-moving equipment in many places along the river, apparently rebuilding the riverbanks at critical spots. There are two mobile homes that appear to be a total loss, one house that that is marginal, and a covered bridge that made it through but took some heavy damage. Pretty impressive from a ‘river’ that is usually 1 – 4 feet deep at most.

After a stop at the village store for a croissant and the local papers, I’m at the cabin by 9 AM. The leaves are already beginning to turn and the roads have a picturesque dusting of the ones that have already fallen. It would be the perfect fall day except that it’s a little too hot and already somewhat humid.

My goal is to complete the electrical and plumbing work – of which very little remains. The first task is to correct the dodgy job I did installing the front porch light – mounting the light to the wall and feeding the wires to a gang box facing the cabin interior. What was I thinking? Even the electrician left a note saying “uh, you might want to consider…” 15 minutes, a hole saw and an round gang box and I can hold my head up at an IBEW meeting again. Not that I'd know where to find one.

That fix was the only thing preventing me from finishing the downstairs insulation, however, so I decide to put it up now rather than waiting until the LSW and The Boy are with me. Insulation is deceptively nasty, and the less we work with it while we’re trying to enjoy the place the better. This leads to the first ‘son of a bitch!’ moment when I realize that the two rolls of R19 I bought were for 16” – rather than 24” – framing. How could I possibly have missed that? I knew they seemed like too much of a bargain when I bought them. I decide to make it work, however, and spend the next couple of hours finishing the downstairs insulation.

I consider turning back to the electrical after lunch, but the temptation to cover the insulation with dry wall is overwhelming and I give in. This leads to the second SOAB moment when I cut two leftover pieces of wall board only to find that they are both 1’ too short. Yes, Norm, I hear you: Measure TWICE, cut ONCE. Aggravating the situation, I find that I need to change the framing inside the closet to mount them. No surprise, as SOAB moments are invariable followed by ‘more work than expected’ experiences. The reframing I do here opens my eyes to 3 other minor framing tasks I’ve been stalling on, and I figure I might as well address them while the mitre saw is out and the Paslode is cooperating.

I use the two short pieces of drywall I’ve cut and patch in smaller pieces above. It’s the entry closest, and I reason that I’ll cover the seams with a shelf. I then put the remaining insulation in the loft, and – with my new framing-ray vision - realize I have additional framing to do on the gable walls in order to effectively mount both the wall board and pine ceiling. SOAB! (And MWTE.)

At this point it is 2:30, and I still have to unload the kitchen/entry tile backer boards from the truck and clean up before leaving, so I call it a day. Looking around, I feel like I got very little done. As always.

On the way back, I travel through Brattleboro and am pleased to find that Flat Street has been cleaned up and the Latchis looks like it is about to reopen (maybe it already has?). My favorite restaurant – the Flat Street Pub – is still closed, however. I’m back at the house by 6:30 – in time to talk with The Boy before bed. The only beer in the fridge is a Heineken left over from somewhere, but even cheap beer tastes really good after a long day of travel and ‘real’ work.

Next week I’ll be up for another day trip, still trying to finish the punch list before winter sets in…

All's Quiet on the Cabin Building Front

2011-09-20T08:47:00.002-04:00

When we began this project, The Boy was 2 and his needs - while continual - were at least restricted to the home. He was, in a word, ‘portable’, and went where we went, when we wanted to go.

And so we dreamed of monthly long weekends at the cabin, facilitated by my generous vacation days and the LSW’s from-home freelancing career.

What we forgot, of course, was that The Boy would soon become encumbered by interests and activities generated by:
• Him – “I don’t want to go to the cabin – there’s nothing to do there”
• Society – Insofar as absence from school is ‘truancy’
• Us – We’ve become the parents we formerly scoffed at, enrolling him in Soccer, Karate, Religious Education, etc, and ourselves in the PTA, Father’s Club, etc.

So when, exactly, do we get to escape to Shangri-La? July and August, apparently. A shame as we love VT most in the fall. The best I’ve been able to do this year is 2 weekends prior to Thanksgiving for the whole family, and 2 overnights for me. My original goal was to have all of the insulation in and the wall board up this year, but it’s starting to look like the cathedral ceiling and basement insulation will have to wait until next year. I should be able to get all of the wall insulation and wall board up, however.

Since the last post, there was a single trip up the day after the Hurricane. As the LSW noted in the previous post, VT was hit pretty hard by flooding – apparently the result of the land being pretty much water saturated before Irene came a-callin’. The cabin was apparently untouched except for having no power, but the towns around it got hit pretty hard. The major roads in from the North and West were effectively impassable, and my route from the South involved at least one significant detour. I arrived at 3PM, checked the cabin inside and out, breathed a sigh of relief, and headed back south for dinner.

We were lucky, and our thoughts are with many of our neighbors up there as they rebuild.

Hurricane Irene update

2011-08-30T09:04:00.002-04:00

LSW here. As you might've heard on the news, Vermont got a surprise wallop from Hurricane Irene. We expected the worst in Connecticut, so we were prepared with lots of water, food and candles, but no one ever suspected that Vermont would take a hit. We're very lucky-- the cabin is fine. Unfortunately, some of the neighboring towns didn't fare so well. Our hearts go out to the residents of Grafton, Saxtons River, Brattleboro and all the other towns that are now faced with having to recover from the damage incurred by the overflowing river. No doubt it's going to be a long, hard road from here on out.

We are FUN.

2011-08-09T21:30:00.001-04:00

LSW here with the Top Ten Most Awesome Sauce Things About This Past Weekend in Shangri-La.

1) I forgot to pack The Boy's suitcase. Fun! Where do people go to shop for clothes in our little paradise? I have no idea. I drove 1 1/2 hours to the nearest Walmart.

2) Despite the fact that our "kitchen" consists of a toaster oven , a coffee maker and an electric griddle set over a couple of boards across some sawhorses, it's still nicer than my "real" kitchen at home.

3) There is nothing, I mean nothing, more exciting than styrofoam. (And clean underwear.)

4) Except maybe Battleship. Hours and hours of Battleship.

5) Sandwiches, but they're not on bread. They're on pretzels. Pretzels!

6) We like to include an educational element to our weekends in Shangri-La.

("The otter die cuss it smoket to much" and "He done got shot." Can't make this stuff up, folks.)

7) Road eggs. So charming, so quaint. Until you accidentally stick a $10 bill instead of a $1 into the locked cash box.

8) Beer. Called The Vermonster.

9) Fireworks in the pouring rain.

10) Clear water!

Nothing is Ever Quite Done

2011-08-08T14:26:00.002-04:00

Looking around this weekend I was struck again with how nothing ever seems to quite get finished.

The siding is done, but the eaves still need to be boxed in.
The plumbing is done except for the hose spigot and the bathroom vanity.
The landscaping is done except for the driveway surfacing.
The electrical is done, except for the track lighting, the ceiling fan and the exterior outlets.
And rewiring the porch lights.
And installing the bathroom light/exhaust unit.

And so it goes - a growing punch list that I’ll get to ‘next time’.

Then there is the unexpected re-work ; month I noticed that one of the porch posts - comprised of 4 glued-up pieces - had a couple of small seam splits about ½ way up one side. This last weekend there were similar splits on the center column and additional splits on the first column. What gives? Could a 6x14 porch roof really exceed the combined 7500 lbs the posts are rated for? Or is it a manufacturing defect? I’ll continue to watch them, but they’ll probably get replaced with solid 6x6 posts (with a little decorative embellishing) before the winter snows add to the load this year.

And the regular work continues. There was some additional taping and sanding in the bathroom, but most of the weekend was given to insulation and sheet rock. My father hung the first 6 sheets of wall board in the dining/kitchen space, so this was my first experience with gypsum board. Turns out its messy, fairly easy, and very gratifying. Like framing, the changes are dramatic and the clear evidence of progress kinda propels you along.

The tools are simple, too: Saw horses, tape measure, chalk line, pencil, utility knife, wall board saw and cordless drill. Put a sheet on the saw horses, measure and mark it for pesky obstacles (like windows door), cut one direction with the saw, score the other with the utility knife, snap the sheet at the score and cut the opposite side with the knife.

Easy, right?

Until you discover that you cut everything ‘mirror image’ so the backside faces outward. Or that you measured the distance to the window from the wrong side of the sheet. Or you go to lift the sheet up without adequate support and break it. Or you don’t support a ‘snapped’ piece adequately while cutting it and rip the paper on the reverse side. Or you lay the piece up on the wall only to find that your framing apparently isn’t 2’ on center after all. (How did that happen??)

Fortunately, my father had clued me into some of these pitfalls previously, so I only ruined one of the 8 sheets we ultimately put up. Another reminder he provided: Keep the factory edges where sheets meet - there is a ‘valley’ toward the edges that is designed to keep the seams level and invisible. If you must cut a factory edge, do it on an inside or outside corner, or against a door or window where it will be covered by trim work.

Really, though - this is up there with tiling as a job too easy to ever contract for again. Taping, maybe; putting the wall board up - no way.

On the walls, anyway. I suspect that the ceiling would be more of a trick, but we‘re using tongue-and-groove pine, so we‘ll never find out.

So now each downstairs wall is mostly done, as running out of insulation and the need for final wiring work prevented us from finishing the job. One more thing for the list of ‘next times’…

First Night Part II

2011-07-19T18:58:00.001-04:00

The LSW covered the ‘First Night’ weekend pretty well, but I have to weigh in on a couple of thing:

1)   Mice. There has been evidence of them in the cabin since the beginning. They are getting in through the basement hatch, and can easily get upstairs through the various plumbing and wiring holes. The basement hatch is going to get a better seal when I finish insulating later this year, and the holes will be filled with spray insulation just as soon as I finish what little remains of the plumbing and wiring. Even then, I suspect they’ll always be a presence – just like they are at home (unfortunately).
2)   Spiders. It’s not like they are everywhere, although their numbers are growing in the crawlspace. Which is odd, as I’ve never seen any bugs down there, so what could they possibly be eating except each other? Buddhism be damned, I’m going to start spraying the bastards next time I’m up; I don’t like spiders and I’m not going to have them lurking in the floor joists ready to attack me.
3) The toilet. There is always one job that gives you unforeseen problems and trashes your carefully planned schedule. The toilet was generously donated by my father, and - I've no doubt - was working fine when he removed it. I’m sure it was something we were doing, but after removing the tank for the 5th or 6th time we just snapped. Kudos to the LSW for opting to run to Keene, NH rather than pack it up and go home. The new toilet was less than $90 and took all of 15 minutes to install. We could have wept when the water from the first flush ended up in the bowl rather than on the floor.
4)   Orange water. We had been warned that this was likely. The water tests fine and looks clear coming out of a hose, but accumulate some in a white toilet or bath and it is, in fact, rather orange. Quite rather orange, in fact. I’ve been assured that this is just minerals and can be cleared up easily with a well filter. Not wanting it to permanently stain the toilet until the next trip, however, I sourced some clear water from the Saxtons River and poured it in before we left. On the way home, however, it occurred to me that river water probably has microorganisms in it, and I now fear we’ll find a jungle growing in (or out of!) the toilet when we return. Oops.
5) Dog Eat Dog World hot dog truck in North Walpole NH. The LSW and I are in perfect agreement: This place is kick-ass, and I don't even (usually) like hot dogs!

Best part of the weekend: Beer and burgers on the front porch Saturday evening.

Strangest part: The coyotes (Wolves? Unicorns?) we heard Saturday night.

Most unexpected: Where the hell were all the bugs!?! Growing up in Maine I remember black fly season, mosquito season and deathly cold season – something I figured was true everywhere in northern New England. Apparently not in Shangri-La, however, although I was pestered by horseflies whenever I got more than 100 feet away from the cabin…

First Night

2011-07-19T11:41:00.001-04:00

LSW here. Settle in. It's going to be a long post.

Will it work? Here's a hint. This was toilet #1.

It’s amazing the things I’ll touch in the cabin that I wouldn’t even go near at home. (Insert your own joke here.) For instance, a single spider at home is cause to freak out. The cabin? Eh, they’re part of the ambiance. Mouse poops? At home I see evidence of one and I put on the haz-mat suit, convinced we’re all going to die from hantavirus. At the cabin, I just clean it all up with a vacuum and Lysol wipes. (Although I just this very minute read that you’re not supposed to vacuum them up; so much for my brazen attitude. Now I’m back to freaking out.) In any case, this was, dear reader, a Very Special Weekend. This weekend, we stayed overnight.

Here was the plan: We leave Friday at noon, get to the cabin by 3. We begin installation of toilet, which should take an hour, give or take. Then hang the shower curtain and twist some knobs and handles and such in the basement and bask in the glory of indoor plumbing.

Here’s how it really went. The Vermontster set about the toilet duties while I cleaned up the aforementioned mouse poops and started painting the window trim in order to prep for hanging up the blinds.

The inaugural flush. We are one fun family.

Two hours later, we’re up to our elbows in orange well water in the toilet that seems to be leaking from the tank. We pull the tank off. Adjustments are made. We put it back on. We flush. It leaks. And so on and so forth.

By 7 p.m., we had a decision to make. We decided to get the toilet to the point that we could use it, but had to keep a bucket underneath the tank and ignore the drip, drip, drip. So much for the quickie install. Then, in what seemed like might possibly be a fool’s errand, we taped all the cracks in the eaves with masking tape, in an effort to keep out any mosquitos. You can stop laughing now.

We headed to Bellows Falls for dinner. We’d read that Miss Bellows Falls, the old-timey diner in town, had a dinner special. For $15 you get soup, salad and an entrée. We’re not talking open-faced roast beef or a club sandwich. The menu was very tantalizing to our organic, free-range, gourmet taste buds. The Vermonster ordered the beef molé and I got the balsamic pork. The soup was a butternut squash bisque, and the salad was largely composed of edible flowers. The concept was excellent. The atmosphere was wonderful. Unfortunately, the food was only so-so and the service was S-L-O-W. We have faith that if we go back for breakfast, things will be better.

After dinner, despite the late hour, we decided to walk down Main Street, which was all a-bustle. It felt like we were on a movie set. The clock tower was lit up, and behind it, the clouds were all puffed up in front of the Green Mountains. There were people everywhere. “How cool!” we said. “The town is alive!” It was only when we got to the movie theater that we realized that it was opening night for the last Harry Potter movie, so the crowds were there early. Otherwise, it probably would’ve been a couple of tattooed old guys sitting at the bar at the VFW.

And this was where the adventure truly began. On the way back, we realized we’d never been to the cabin at night. In the dark. In the woods at night.

Who needs The Ritz when you can have mis-matched sheets and camping cots?

Oh yes, I was having a mild panic attack, but I kept it under wraps lest I freak The Boy out. We purchased three camping cots and pads from Cabela’s and lined them up in the “living room.” We settled in and prepared to experience our first evening of out-in-the-country quiet. The type of quiet that keeps city folk up all night. You know, the absence of police sirens and honking horns and drunk 20-somethings singing “Sweet Caroline” and all that.

We were about a half hour into lights-out when the loudest motorcycle on the planet announced its presence. It must’ve been going 90 m.p.h. on the twisty, dirt road below our property. All I could think was, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” We just built a cabin in the woods three hours away from home and this is what we hear?

Well, better than a bear, I thought to myself. Because that’s been my recent fear. We’ve had a bear sighting in our town in Connecticut (a mile away from our house), and it’s freaked the crap out of me. What would I do if The Boy and I were out walking and suddenly happened upon a giant mother bear and its babies? Hey, I know all about that Mama Bear protection instinct. It can be deadly.

So, in the scope of things, a motorcycle didn’t seem too bad.

And then … phase 2 of the night. A sort of barking/howling miles away. Only it was getting closer. And closer. And closer. “They’ve got granola bars and beer!” I imagined the alpha male saying to his pals in wolf-speak. I was at the ready. I had a plan in place: shine the spotlight in their eyes and hit them with my Walkman if they came in through the door.

But thankfully, they didn’t. And, I might add, there was nary a mosquito, either. Evening One was a success.

The next morning we awoke ready to get to work. The Boy and I headed down to the general store to get some coffee (we couldn’t fit the coffee maker in the car) and the Vermonster set about the task at hand. The Boy was busy regaling the locals with chit-chat when one of the women in the store said, “Your husband just called. He needs matches.” Ah, yes, THIS is why we love Vermont.

Back at the ranch, things weren’t looking too good. We were elbow-deep in orange well water, tightening bolts and re-fitting washers and it just wasn’t happening. The toilet was still leaking. We took a drive to the nearest hardware store (20 minutes away), where we found a simple $4 toilet repair kit would save us lots of aggravation and money. Hooray! Then it was time for lunch. We stopped at the Dog Eat Dog World hot dog truck in Walpole, NH. Absolutely brilliant.

I’ll be writing about this on my food blog, but let me just give you a bit of a teaser and say: hot dog with bacon and Thai peanut sauce, $2.

In any case, it was then back to the cabin with our miracle kit.

Pull off the tank. Drain the water. Put in new nuts and bolts and washers and wax seal and …drip. Drip. Pour.

Here’s where you, dear reader, get to be creative and insert your own colorful language that you think the Vermonster might use.

We had a decision in front of us. 1) Call it a day, pack up our stuff and go home, leaving the toilet job until the next trip. 2) Try yet again to make this thing work. Or 3) go to Home Depot and buy a new damn toilet.

The choice was easy for me. “I’m going to get a toilet,” I said, and headed off on what I thought would be an hour trip.

Three hours later, I returned with a giant box.

We tore into that thing and—boopity boopity boop—set it in place, flushed it a few times and experienced the miracle of Sir Thomas Crapper’s invention.

What you don't see is that the water is actually orange. We like to call it our mineral bath.

While I was gone on the Home Depot Mission from Hell, the shower rod was installed, as was an entire wall of insulation. All was good. We celebrated by jumping in the river to cool off.

He's thinking, "Who needs a bathtub when we've got this?" He's kind of right.

Toilet #1, waiting for its new purpose as a planter

That night, we cooked some burgers on the grill and sat out on the front porch for the very first time. The sun made crazy patterns on the trees, and we listened to “A Prairie Home Companion” from the radio in my car. It was absolutely blissful. For the first time in this 3-year-old adventure, I actually felt like we were doing it. We were living the dream. We have our own place in the Vermont woods! And we built it! That night, we all slept peacefully. No motorcycles, no coyotes.

Mid-June and early July 2012

2011-07-17T17:35:00.003-04:00

Having failed to achieve a working bath in May, we moved the goal-post to mid-July. This resulted in two interim trips - a weekend trip with the whole family in June and a day trip myself in July.

On the July trip, we celebrated the completion of the siding when my carved fleur-de-lis finally went up in the front gable. Nothing is without its trials however, and - after spending every night for a week carving it - I got a little too enthusiastic with the nail gun very nearly ruined it. After a temper tantrum and a shameful string of profanity, however, I had an idea and - voila! - all is well. (The carving was supposed to be both a nod to my ancestry and a way not to have to shingle the gable. For the latter: Mission Accomplished; for the former: We're a little concerned that people will think that it is a Boy Scout camp...)

C'est formidable!

And so the endless siding job comes to an end!

The other big achievement was all the LSW's - she grabbed the float and grouted all the tile. She then attacked the sheetrock taping. What a woman!

While she was at it, I got the plumbing to the point where only the tub spout and the exterior hose spigot remained. I also hooked up the first of the electric baseboard heat.

And VTel came around to hook up the phone, so now I can call 911 should I happen to nail my foot to the floor...

Finally - contact with the outside world.

We might have gotten ourselves to a working bath, but the LSW discovered that the annual Quechee Balloon Festival was Saturday and we couldn't resist the temptation.

This, my friends, was worth the trip. Carnival atmosphere, local crafts, plenty of free food samples, plenty of stuff for The Boy, a beer garden, French-and-Indian War re-enactors(!), and lots of balloons.

There were about 30 of them, and the crowd was allowed to mill around the field as they were being inflated and launched - getting you right up close to the action. The boy loved it. We did, too. It is impossible not to be positively giddy when there are a boatload of balloons launching all around you.

Lodging for the weekend was at the Super 8 in Brattleboro courtesy of bargain prices the LSW found on the web. I would have liked to have stayed at the Saxtons River Inn again, but every dime in savings counts these days.

In early July, I was back up for a day trip. I had a long list of things to do, but in the end I managed only to seal the grout and hook up the remaining baseboard heaters. Hennessey Electric came in the following week to inspect my work and hook the the water heater and baseboard heat to the service panel. Done and done. The next trip, we'll be staying overnight...

Mid-May 2011

2011-05-19T06:26:00.001-04:00

Pictures from the 'big push' weekend. We didn't quite finish the bathroom, but a lot more drywall went up than anticipated, so it all balances out...

Insulating is a terrible job. It seems easy enough, but somehow you end up feeling dirty and itchy. You can get rid of the dirty with a shower, but about 20% of the itchy lasts for the next week. We finished almost 50% of the walls, though, so at least the end is already in sight.

My friend Nick showed up unexpectedly on Saturday and offered to lend a hand. This was our first 'drop-in' visitor, and - given that he lives 3 hours away - was much appreciated. He claimed to have no building experience at all, but then proceeded to help my father drywall all of the bath and part of the kitchen.

My father - like my sister - can be a real slave driver. Once he starts he doesn't stop, and somehow he kept us working until 6 PM on Monday even though I was ready to leave at noon. Getting home at after 9 PM after 3 solid days of work really sucks when you know you've got to get up at 5:30 AM to get to work on Tuesday, but be damned if we didn't get a whole lot more done than if I had been there myself!

The crew - dad, The Boy, me and Nick. The shower is in, the tile is down, the insulation and wallboard are up and *most* of the plumbing is in place.

Tile is easier than it looks! (Although this is easy for me to say as my father and the LSW did all the work while I ran the PEX.)

Once you get the drywall up, you can really begin to imagine the place done...

...until you turn and face the opposite direction. *sigh*

The solution: Just don't turn around!

It's hard to see, but this pic differs from the one about in that the vanity plumbing is in place, as is the diverter valve and the shower head in the tub. The day we get water from something other than a hose will be celebrated with champagne, believe you me.

So, in summary, the 'big push' weekend resulted in:
A bathtub
Bath insulation
Bath wallboard
Bath tile
90% of the waste plumbing
90% of the inlet plumbing
40% of the total wall insulation
40% of the wall sheetrock

Do we have a bathroom? Not yet. Are we close? Hell yeah!

April 30, 2011

2011-04-30T21:21:00.000-04:00

First 2011 overnight with the family; looking to install the backer board for the bath tile in advance of my father's visit in May.
Friday, 8:30 AM - we hit the road in two cars. I give the LSW the option of a quiet ride in the truck, but she opts for time with The Boy to keep her awake on the road. I'm not sure how I feel about this.
10:00 AM - jumping jacks by the LSW and The Boy at a scenic overlook in MA. The boy is just having fun; the LSW is trying to summon enough adrenaline to stop weaving all over the road.
11:45 AM - Shangri-la is about 2 weeks behind Trumbull in terms of spring foliage, but at least the snow is gone. I brought the lawn mower, but there's really no need. We move the dining room table inside, and find we have a place to sit after almost 2 years. Celebrate with roast beef sandwiches and chips.

3:00 PM - the tile backer board is down, with seams taped and mortared. I was afraid that this would be more complicated than it seemed, but - honestly - it wasn't. The LSW scooped the thinset mortar onto the floor, I troweled it, and down went the backer board. Screwing the backer board down took longer than laying it.

5:30 PM - the first two rows of shingles are up on the left side of the gable above the porch, and the porch floor is sealed. We retire to a cottage at the KOA in Dummerston, and then head into Brattleboro for dinner.

Saturday, 8:00AM - breakfast at the Putney Diner. Excellent spinach, mushroom and Swiss omelet. We indulge the boy in a piece of apple pie for breakfast, and the waitress scowls at our parenting skills. The Boy, however, cleans his plate for once, so its not for nothing.
11:00 AM - the only thing on the agenda is the front siding, so the LSW wears herself out in endless games of hide-and-seek with The Boy. When he decides to play whatever this game is, she is disturbed enough to begin placing a second coat of paint on all of the trim work...

2:00 PM - the front siding isn't done, but its damn close. I've spent more than 5 hours working on an incline, and my muscles are voicing their disapproval. The weather has cycled from between sunny and 65, raining and 40 and overcast and 50 about three times. The Jehovah's Witnesses have shown up to share the good new with us, and all of the trim has a second coat of paint. Not a bad half-day's work.

I'd like to say that exterior is finally done, but we've still got to paint the front door, seal the eaves, and build the front steps, not to mention the rear deck, pergola, shutters and window boxes...

The Opening of the Season 2011

2011-04-03T18:51:00.001-04:00

Today was the first working day trip of 2011. The goal was to clean the place up, take some plumbing-related measurements, and work on...whatever.

Sifting through the remains of last year, I had enough materials to finally finish the shiplap siding on the South and North sides of the cabin, and so I got to work. Finally - FINALLY - I can say they are finished. Now I just have to finish the shingles on the front.

The North Side


The South Side

While I was at it, I cleaned the cabin of dust, debris, scrap wood and mouse droppings. The furry little bastards apparently decided to nest in my electrical supplies box and shredded my bath vent/light wiring diagrams for good measure. Just the English ones, though, so I'll be in good shape after my 'Spanish for Electricians' class.

Living / Dining

Kitchen / Bath

Spring cleaning over, we're ready to hit the ground running. My father has offered help in getting the plumbing installed in May, and I'm hard at work researching and accumulating PEX fittings for intake and PVC for discharge. Estimates for the plumbing (bath/shower, vanity, toilet, sink and external spigot) came in at about $1,300, and I was sorely tempted to farm the work out. The nagging thought, however, that I can save $500 - 800 doing it myself finally became overwhelming. Everyone says PEX is as easy as wiring, so we'll see.

Odds and Ends 2010

2010-12-24T11:44:00.002-05:00

Happy holidays, everyone! (Or Merry Christmas/Happy New Year, if you prefer; I'm a practicing Buddhist, so I don't have a dog in the 'Christmas Wars' fight.) The holiday festivities in the Vermonster household began with a day trip to Shangri-La to make sure the cabin was still standing and that the crawlspace wasn't flooded. It was and wasn't, respectively. I drained the pressure tank last time we were up and shut off the pump, so there was nothing to freeze. I'm new to this game, though, so it seemed prudent to check.

Someday that Tyvek will finally be completely covered. Probably on the same day I finally haul away those pallets...

There was just a dusting of snow on the ground, and - with the exception of some new mouse droppings - everything was just as we left it. I took detailed measurements of the kitchen and bath for cabinets and fittings, and then an inventoried the remaining materials before locking up. It seemed a shame to drive all that way for 30 minutes' work, though, so I walked the perimeter of the property to stretch the time. Turns out I have parts from an old car on one end of the property, and some old cans and buckets on the other. Everything I found looked to be from the 30's or 40's, so at least it was 'historic' garbage. CVPS also cut a lot of hardwood installing the new poles in the right-of-way this year; I'll have to cut and stack it in the spring in preparation for the wood stove.

Looking over the posts to date, I found a few 'holes' in my documentation of this cabin-building journey. Here's a modest attempt to fill them:

Q: You spent a lot of time talking about prefab and kit options - any regrets not going that route?
A: Not really. During the research stage, they all seemed to be at least 1/3 more than framing the place myself. In the end, this was mitigated somewhat by paying a contractor to do the roof sheathing/shingles, and the additional time it took to do it all 'from scratch'. In the end, thought, I got valuable experience in framing that I can use for outbuildings and additions, the pride of saying we did it ourselves, and a little extra money to put toward finishing. As we're doing everything with cash, spending more up front to get the structure in place wouldn't have bought any time, as we would have just run out of money quicker and spent more time staring at the place rather than working on it.

Q: You neglected the blog through almost the entire framing process. What gives?
A: The framing work was intense and exhausting, and it was hard to spend time writing about it after 3-4 days of working. With the exception of the hipped porch roof, however, it really wasn't all that hard. Building the walls was relatively easy, and the sheathing was only difficult in that it was awkward to work with on ladders on the South side. The hardest thing about framing the roof was the sheathing and shingling - something that I would have done myself anyway had I not opted for a 45-degree angle. I knew very little about framing when I started, but two books gave me everything I needed:

The Ultimate Guide to House Framing by John D. Wagner
Working Alone: Tips and Techniques for Solo Building by John Carroll.

Q: When you were planning the electrical, did you consider going solar and staying 'off the grid'?
A: I did, but the fact that I had a CVPS pole less than 100' from the cabin made it just too easy to go conventional. Again - we're doing everything with cash, so a big outlay for solar now would just mean that the rest of the work gets done much later in the future, preventing us from actually using the place. My current plan is to add solar panels after we've finished to feed power back to CVPS. Vermont does net metering, so this should offset the cost of electrical significantly. Not quite 'off the grid', but arguably the next best thing. The other thing that worked against solar was the fact that it seemed to require a different well setup - low flow pump and underground storage reservoir - that would also make the well installation more expensive.

Q: No that the market has recovered, any regrets about cashing out the 401(k) during the panic?
A: Ah, yeah, well...you have to be philosophical about this kind of thing. The story I tell myself these days is that I converted a stock investment into a real estate investment. Yes, the cost of land and materials dropped in the same time frame, but the truth is that I still lost more by cashing out than I gained in lower prices. No one was sure what was going to happen in those dark, post-crash days, though, so I rolled my dice and moved my mice. And now I own a place outright that I was forced to build myself to save money; I'm proud of both, and that's worth something.

Q: What's next?
A: Our goal for 2011 is to get the place to a point where we can use it. That will mean insulation, the primary heat (as opposed to the woodstove, which will come later), plumbing, and the bathroom. Stay tuned.

Holy Shizz! Look what happened to the cabin while we were gone

2010-11-24T20:05:00.000-05:00

Apparently some squatters have moved into our cabin. They were sweet enough, so we're giving them until the New Year to get the hell out.

Here I Am!

2010-11-23T21:24:00.002-05:00

LSW here. It’s been a while since I’ve been up to the cabin. It’s getting kind of hard now. The Boy has his own social calendar and frankly, it’s exhausting to both work on the cabin and keep an eye on His Highness. He did a great job when he was 3 years old, playing with his plastic food and searching the woods for mushrooms. But now that he’s older, faster and always a step or two ahead of me, it’s a lot of work.

But in one of those unexpected moments of good fortune, The Boy’s grandparents stopped by and whisked him away, giving the Vermonster and I free rein to go up to Shangri-La alone.

This was the first time I’ve seen the cabin since the land has been leveled and seeded. We have a yard! And what a difference it makes. Suddenly it’s gone from a structure built on sandy soil and rocks to a cute little cabin in the woods.

The weather report for the day was iffy, although the temperatures were supposed to be in the 50’s, not bad considering it’s Vermont. We realistically could’ve been stuck in a snowstorm this time of year.

It was pretty chilly and grey and misty. Certainly not one of Vermont’s better days, but we managed to get some work done. I stained lots of shingles while the Vermonster continued to nail them on the front of the cabin. He’s said before that it’s slow-going work, and he’s right. Four hours later, we got a lot done but it’s still not finished. I guess that’s the price you pay for charming shingle rather than a more practical type of siding.

We might have another decent day to do some more work in the next few weeks, but chances are, winter will settle in soon. It’ll be time to lay low and concentrate on our winter hobbies: dulcimer for the Vermonster, trying to maintain a writing career for me. Next summer should offer more projects of interest and hopefully we’ll actually be staying there. I’m thinking positive and I refuse to liken this project to the Taj Mahal; our beautiful home that we never actually get to stay in. In six months, get ready for blog posts about our overnights at Shangri-La.

...and continues...

2010-11-14T08:27:00.000-05:00

Back up last Tuesday as the quest to cover the Tyvek continues. Some notes:

Working on the porch roof was more difficult (and painful) than I expected. Sitting continually on an angle causes you to use muscles in ways your not used to, and you get sore easily. I ached for 2 days after.
Manually measuring and cutting shingles for two separate angles - the porch roof and the gable - isn't hard, but it takes time. Lots of it, if you're using a handsaw.
It occurred to me that snow may be sitting against the shingles within 2-3 feet of the porch roof, and so I decided to seal the backs and sides of each shingle before it went up. You can imagine how much time that took.

In the end, here's what 5 hours got me:

*Sigh*

The work above this point will go faster, as I'll revert to not sealing the backs. There's still the west side to do, though, so I'm figuring 2 more trips...

Tyvek as Taskmaster

2010-11-01T20:57:00.003-04:00

The Tyvek is driving me nuts. The packaging warns that it should not remain exposed for more than 6 months, but the front of the cabin has been basking in murderous sunlight for almost a year. With average daytime temps dropping fast, I'm watching weather.com daily for those rare, remaining days when the mercury is predicted to be 50 and the chance of precipitation below 20%.

They are few and far between.

Last Thursday was one of them, though, and I was up at 5 with grand plans to finish the front siding and close down for the winter. I took a PTO day, carved a conspicuous hole in a critical project at work and packed the truck in the dark only to find that it had rained in Shangri-La until almost 8 am, and all of the siding was soaked.

[Insert profanity here]

So I set to work installing the front porch light, only to realize that the right way to do it is to cut a hole in the wall and place a single gang box behind it, not run the wires through the wall and splice them to the power supply unprotected. Duh. Unfortunately, I didn't have a jig saw with me, and so I compromised by mounting the gang box facing the inside of the cabin. It works, and will probably be fine, but I didn't feel good about it.

Figuring it would take another hour for the Tyvek to dry out, I began sealing the shingle that was already up. Easy, right? Should take an hour or two, yes? 3 1/2 hour later, the job was done, and I was looking at a late lunch and still not a single new shingle in place.

After a quick lunch, I gave up hope of actually finishing the siding and decided to mow the lawn, which was already almost a foot high. I set the lawnmower to the highest setting and discovered two three things:

Mowing a sloping property is a lot harder than a flat one.
Mowing on freshly spread and loosely compacted topsoil is a lot like marching on the beach.
The thought that you might have a heart attack is more frightening when you have no phone, no close neighbors, and no chance the wife will wonder what happened to you until you don't show up at home many hours hence.

In the end, I put up and stained the final row of shingles under the porch, and began the process of rising up and around the porch trim work. Not a bad day's work, really, but the faded Tyvek mocked me as I pulled out at 4 PM and headed for home, knowing that I'd need to come up at least one more time.

I should have just used builder's felt.

Siding Intermission: Essential Tools

2010-10-27T18:38:00.002-04:00

I was just making notes on what I want to accomplish on my next trip to Shangri-la, and the tools I need to be sure to bring, and it occurred to me that I've never commented on the tools that I've found essential to an effort like this. So without further ado...

First Place: A pickup truck. Absolutely essential. You cannot build something like this without one. Best tool ever. Once you own one, you'll never be able to live without it. You'll begin looking down your nose at the smooth-skinned pansies who drive around in European sports cars. You pity the guys you see at the dump who have to cram their garbage and yard waste into the back seat or the trunk. You'll also suddenly be the best friend of anyone who doesn't have one, unfortunately.
Second Place: A gas nail gun. Nothing will make framing go faster. The best tool I purchased next to the pickup. And it's like a gun, so it's got that going for it.
Third Place: 12" Compound Mitre Saw and stand. You cannot live without this for any kind of roof framing, and - as a bonus - it makes quick work out of walls, siding and trim.
Fourth Place: Clamps. From quick-release to pipe clamps, these are essential to working alone, taking the place of the slave labor you couldn't find.
Runners-up:

Heavy-Duty cordless drill
Corded drill (because your batteries will run out, and you'll need it while they're charging)
Hammers (for small nails, and for when the gas nailer decides to go on vacation for no good reason)
Ladders in various sizes, from a step-stool to at least 24'
Speed Square (you'll be amazed at how much you use this)
Power Saw
Hand Plane (don't let Norm fool you - not all the best tool have power chords)
Assorted Screwdrivers
Tape Measures and Pencils (the more the better, as they are always getting misplaced)
Chalk Line
Pneumatic Finish Nailers and Portable Compressor (a second-place winner for trimwork or cabinetry)
Levels in various sizes, from 4" to 5'

Other things I always carry with me:

Compass (the pencil-and-point kind, not the directional one)
Chisels
Paint brushes
Sawhorses
Japanese saws - small and large (cuts on the pull rather than the push)
Hand Saw
Cat's Paws in various configurations
Nail cutter
Socket set or wrenches
Vice grips
Pliers

And to hold it all: A good-quality tote and tool belt.

...and continues....

2010-10-20T19:07:00.002-04:00

Had to get away from the Corporate Grind yesterday, so I high-tailed it for the cabin and continued the shingle work. Made it to the top of the first floor and then took a break to install the 2x6 facia boards for the porch. The sides weren't too bad, but trying to test fit the 15' front section was a trial; thank god for clamps - they are the MVP of tools for anyone working alone. The day was typical for New England - freezing and partly cloudy in the morning, ominously overcast and windy at noon, clear skies and warm by 2, and partly cloudy again when I left.Again - believe it or not - this was a solid 5 hours of work.

We'll have an 8x8 deck off the back door for the grill, and likely a patio to the left.

Someday I'll get those final two pieces of shiplap up.

*sigh* I'm going to be a slave to the lawn mower on vacation, too.

When the leaves start falling, it's clear I could have a nice view of the ridge with a little tree thinning.

The siding continues...

2010-10-07T08:14:00.000-04:00

I did a quick day trip to Shangri-La last Monday to get concrete in the Sonotubes for the back porch and begin the front siding. I'd never worked with concrete before, but - other than lugging around the 80-pound bags - it was no big deal. The siding went faster than I expected, but I'm still guessing it's going to take 3 more day trips to complete it and the porch trim.

Dan was right - the grass is coming in pretty quickly. Enough so that I may have to bring the mower up next time. Looks good!

Finishing the Porch and the Septic

2010-09-27T20:30:00.002-04:00

Two day trips followed the big porch weekend. The first trip was on a Monday, which 'felt' strange. It was a holiday, but somehow everything seemed different from any given Saturday or Sunday. It was a beautiful day, but I couldn't quite bring myself to enjoy it - I guess Mondays suck everywhere.

A nice porch to survey the equally nice landscaping

Always one to underestimate, I figured that the porch roof would take less than 6 hours. After a solid 8 hours I ran out of shingles and was forced to call it quits. A few things about roofing if you've never done it before:

It's hot work, even if the day is nice. The sun is bearing down on you from above when you start, and as soon as you get enough shingles down, it's radiating up, too.
It's murder on the knees and hands. Shingles are covered in asphalt and stone, so they tear up jeans and rub skin raw.
Due to the aforementioned asphalt, you'll be filthy when you're done.
Shingles are really heavy. Fortunately, Dan and Tom were on site to continue the septic work, so Tom passed them up to me using the front-loader. God bless him.

Guys who do roofing for a living earn every dime they make - take my word for it.

On the second trip I arrived to find that Dan had finished the topsoil, seed, and mulch. The place looked great! The weeds, rocks and stumps were gone, the land was smooth and open, and the hardwood Dan had removed for the leech field was neatly stacked by the well. The place was almost starting to look finished from the outside. Nice. The only rough landscape work that remains is to hardpack the driveway - something that will run me about $1,200 and so will have to wait for next year.

On the other hand, I'm going to have a lot to mow...

The remaining shingle work - about 1/4 of the roof, the two ridges and flashing against the house - took about 4 hours total. At that point it was almost 2 PM, and I decided to pack it in rather than beginning a new job.

All said and done, the Septic came to about $7,250. This was $500 more than originally estimated as I asked Dan to bring in enough topsoil to take care of the land all around the cabin, not just over the septic work. The porch - which I originally estimated at $500 - worked out to closer to $1,000.

The leaves were beginning to turn, and the air already had a touch of fall in it - it won't be long until we're closing down again for the year. I want to get the front siding on and finish the 4 or 5 remaining pieces of EWP on the back and sides. Trimming the eaves and porch would be nice, but somehow I doubt it's going to all get done this year. We've done pretty good this year, though, so I'm not complaining: Well, septic, landscaping, siding, porch, interior framing and electrical - not bad considering that it feels like we've barely been up there this year...

The Cost of Being Hip(ped)

2010-08-29T20:47:00.029-04:00

It was just after noon on Saturday when I reached my low point. While my father and Mr Big created knee walls for the back loft, I stood in the [future] living room and considered a declaration of defeat. I just couldn't see us calculating, cutting and installing all of the angles a hipped roof requires in anything like the time left, and building the porch roof alone on a subsequent weekend was an overwhelming prospect.

The work had begun just after noon on Friday, when my father and I arrived to find the materials that LaValley's had delivered that morning, and the first order of business was to create a 2x6 'box' between the deck joists over the beam to ensure that the porch posts' load transferred directly to the ground rather than relying on the strength of the decking and joists alone. That having been done, we turned to the decking.

I considered composite material, but - at over 3 times the cost of pressure-treated ($400 vs. $125 for a 6.5'x14' deck) - it was out of my budget. I think of decking as being 'quick work', but the process of ensuring uniform spacing both 1) of all boards and 2) over the length of each individual board required that one of us gauge the spacing and insert the screws while the other pushed or pulled on the end to compensate for each board's bow. We had just finished when Mr Big pulled in just in time for beer and steaks. Uncanny timing.

"If we were taller we'd be able to touch the top of this post."

The next morning was spent erecting the porch posts and building the 'box' they supported: A ledger board (lag-bolted to the cabin just above the front window trim) and 3 sides of doubled 2x6s to support the rafters. By lunch, we were ready to frame the roof, just as soon as I figured out the angles needed. And here we ground to a halt. Or rather, I did. They quickly bored of watching me scratch my head and began building the knee walls for the loft.

In retrospect, here's where I went wrong: For some reason, I constructed a Byzantine process for holding the boards in place and marking the cuts by eye rather than simply doing the math and laying the rafters out with a carpenter's square. I let myself be intimidated by the fact that -- unlike the cabin roof -- I was dealing with a hipped roof that would require multiple compound angles. After futzing around for a couple of hours and finally losing all hope (maybe I should just build a pergola?), I pulled out the carpenter's square and did it the right way.

Its a miracle!

And wouldn't you know it worked ~~perfectly~~ better than expected. By 5 PM the porch roof framing was up -- all 15 rafters in all of their compoundy-angle glory. We had only 3 problems:

The Paslode would periodically decide to go on a 15-20 minute holiday, its indicator light mocking us in green or red and refusing to respond to any of the manual's remedies until it was good and ready.
I swear to God every other sentence uttered that afternoon was "Where's the pencil?" Why did we have only one pencil? Why didn't one of us keep it in a pocket? In the future, I'm bringing at least 5 pencils to the job site; one will be tied to the mitre saw, and another is going to be Velcroed to my hat.
We forgot two ancient pieces of advice: 'Measure twice, cut once' and 'quit while you're ahead'. Rather than resting for the night on our framing laurels, we cut the first piece of sheathing into a shape that was breathtaking in how poorly it fit the roof. Breathtaking, I tell you.

On Sunday the team showed both determination and ingenuity in managing to sheath the entire porch roof despite being sure we had only enough material for about 80% of it. The tar paper, roofing shingles and -- as always -- the siding were left for another day.

"That's what all those games of Tetris were for..."

While all of this was going on, Dan and Tom -- of Taylor Excavating -- were hard at work on the septic system. They began work on Friday morning, and were essentially done by Saturday night. The work will be inspected by Marquise and Morano early this week, and then Dan will finish covering, grading and seeding in about a week. He's also going to set the Sonotubes for the back deck, and -- depending upon the final costs -- possible topsoil and seed the east side of the cabin as well.

Our beautiful new septic tank in situ

My father, Mr Big and I passed the evenings in the Saxtons River Inn while the LSW selflessly dealt with wrestling The Boy to bed. She felt that we might enjoy a 'guys weekend', and it certainly was appreciated. I owe everyone a debt of gratitude - this porch is one of my 'must haves' for the cabin, and without them it likely would have devolved into a simple deck with a pergola, an arrangement I would have grumbled about for years.

The first official beer on the porch.

Slow but Steady Progress

2010-08-22T09:05:00.005-04:00

Interior, looking toward the bathroom and kitchen area

The cabin already lives in my mind as something we've been doing forever, so I was surprised to be reminded a few days ago that we only started the work last May. Amazing.

My confusion probably stems from the fact that we were working almost every weekend last year, whereas this year we've only been up a handful of times. Last year we had a lockable shell to create before winter, and the process of framing a house yields dramatic results rather quickly. This year, the focus has been on the well, siding, and electrical, and the work is decidedly less glamorous.

The siding especially is monotonous work, made worse by the fact that my trim work is flush and needs to be cut around. I only have about 4 boards left to go (if you don't include the front, which I can't side until the porch is on), so we should be able to finish it next time around. Here's what I'd do differently next time:

First and foremost, I'd make sure that the trim and siding is not flush. This would allow me to rabbet the trim so the siding can tuck under it, eliminating the need to try and get every cut 'just right'.
I'd have gone with my first plan for window trim: Create a 'ladder' of trim that includes the window in the middle with sections of singles above and below it. The trim boards on each side would go from the bottom to the top of the wall. This would prevent me from having to cut around the windows at all, and would have tied the sides into the front (which I've now decided is going to be all shingle).
I'd have gone with my original plan to do the rear gable in shingles. Trying to work with 16' boards that have to be trimmed to the angle of the roof, cut to fit around windows and held in place vertically while trying to get the spacing right is a real pain in the @ss.
I would have sealed the back as well as the sides and face of each board. With the gaps I've got around the trimwork - small though they may be - I can't help but fear that they're going to rot before their time.

Almost done with the west side!

There's been two trips up since I last wrote: The first was a 2-night trip with the LSW and The Boy. Our primary goal was to flush out the well and test the water (everything checked out perfectly), and while this was happening we worked on the siding. By 2 PM on Saturday, we were exhausted and closed up shop when friends came to visit.

The second was a day trip with a friend. After a few beers the night before, he volunteered to accompany me the next day, and I'm guessing he was wondering what the hell he had been thinking when I pulled up at 6 am the next morning. I appreciated the help and the company, though I feel bad that I set him to work staining siding. We hung some additional siding and framed two knee walls for the front loft before packing up, hitting the Top of the Hill BBQ joint in Brattleboro and heading for home. Thanks, Nick!

I should note that we had a little excitement during the day when the nail gun 'hopped' during firing and took a small chunk out of my right thumb. There was a lot of blood, but it turned out to be little more than a flesh wound. I can't really blame this on the gun - I was holding the boards together at an odd angle and without good bracing. While my thumb pulsed and ached the rest of the day, I realized that it was one of the very few accidents we have had so far in the building process - knock on wood.

The next trip up will be next weekend; my father is looking to lend a hand this year, and he's arranged to drive up on Thursday. We'll all head up to Shangri-La Friday morning, and Mr Big (my brother-in-law) will meet us there for 2 nights and 2 1/2 days of porch framing, front siding, and finishing what is left of the side/back siding.

Somehow I've got to fit a porch roof between the top of the door and the bottom of the gable window...

We've also decided to move forward on the septic system. Estimates on the system came in at right around $6,500, and once again we've decided to use Taylor Excavating. The work will include clearing the remaining trees, excavating, all materials, topsoil and seeding. I've asked Dan to estimate an additional load of topsoil and seeding for the rest of the property, and he noted that he would give us a credit for the pile of topsoil he saved during the initial land clearing. The work may begin as early as next weekend.

I hadn't expected to be able to do more than the well, electrical and siding this year, but it turns out we've run into a small annual inheritance in memory of my father's late wife. While this means the funding for the rest of the work is assured, the circumstance by which we receive it are sad. We'll think of her as the work completes, and she'll be a presence each time we use it. Rest in peace, Judy - you put up one hell of a fight.

Book Review Tuesday!

2010-08-10T19:10:00.000-04:00

LSW here. During these ~~times of trial~~ cabin-building days, we've often turned to the local library for advice, instruction and 25 cent coffee. One book that the Vermonster has found to be invaluable was this:

He's renewed it so many times that the librarians know him. And the book. It's been out of circulation for a few months now. Apparently it was pretty helpful, because we now have power in the cabin.
That was the book he found most informative.
I, on the other hand, was excited to find this at the library booksale:

I found it on the last day of the five-day booksale, and I have no idea how it didn't get scooped up way before I got to it. I haven't had a chance to read it yet, but flipping through it, I was excited to see that it truly is a manual with instructions on how to dig and where. I just noticed that it's written by a woman. For some reason, this surprises me. Some feminist I am.

Put Out the Welcome Mat, Pa! We Gots Us Some Visitors

2010-08-01T21:03:00.000-04:00

LSW here. We had guests a few weekends ago! The Vermonster, The Boy and I headed up to Shangri-La on a Friday night and the next morning we were up early and hard at work on the siding. The first thing we did was remove two wasp nests that were in the process of being built into the eaves of the house. Then we proceeded to work on the other side of the house, since there were some pretty pissed off wasps flying around. In all fairness, if some giant alien came and knocked down the cabin as we were building it, I'd be looking to blow off a little steam, too.
So we were hard at work on a beautiful, albeit humid day. Our strength was just starting to wane as our friends Susan and Bob and their kids Will and Alexandra pulled up. Thank God. We jumped in our cars and headed over to Grafton, to find what one guide book described as an "off-the-beaten path swimming hole with sanitary facilities."

(Bob and Alexandra checking out the guest room)

I was so ready to jump into a cool, refreshing pond, but what we found was less like a Little House on the Prairie swimming hole and more like a cess pool. And the facilities? A knocked-over Port-a-Potty. We didn't even get out of the car. Instead, we headed back to Saxton's River (stopping along the way for some ice cream) and discovered a fantastic swimming area in the river. Let me tell you, nothing beats jumping into a cool Vermont river after working your butt off all day being pursued by angry stinging insects.
Then it was back to the inn where the kids had fun and, I'd dare say, the adults had an equally enjoyable evening. Shades of things to come, I hope. It can only get better as we get closer to finishing this damn thing.
I have to admit, it's kind of weird to have "visitors" to the cabin. I guess it's just human nature to wonder if they think we're absolutely off our rockers for A) building a cabin ourselves and B) building a cabin in a town with nothing in it. I mean, it's not like it matters to anyone but us, but of course, I also don't want to give the impression that I'm planning on a future of bomb-making and manifesto writing.

In other news, the Vermonster went up to Shangri-La today with his friend Nick, whereupon the first (and hopefully last) nail gun incident took place. I'll let him tell you all about that. I can't stand the sight of blood.

The Hookup

2010-07-18T19:06:00.008-04:00

Last Friday I did a day-trip to Shangri-La for the well hookup. The evening before, Taylor Excavating was on site to dig the trench from the well to the cabin. Record Concrete had left a hole in the foundation for the water with 2 PVC pipes that extended 4 feet beyond the foundation walls. As Dan Taylor had done the foundation excavating, he knew right where to find them.

On Friday, I rolled in at about 8 am, and Green Mountain Well pulled in at about 10. While I continued the electrical work - completing the rear lighting circuit and beginning on the bathroom - they installed the pressure tank, ran the lines, and lowered the pump into the well. After I made the electrical connection (they can do a run directly to the fuse box, but aren't licensed to tie into the line I had already provided), we fired 'er up. Pump? Check. Pressure? 50 lbs - Check. Cold, fresh water? Check.

We're in business.

Dan Taylor was back by 2:30 to fill in the trench, and by 5 pm I was back on the road. For those of you keeping score, the well package rang up at $6545, and the excavating $440. Water ain't cheap, but we sure are happy to have it.

I am the Walrus

2010-07-04T20:05:00.006-04:00

LSW here. Time for a little lightening up, wouldn't you say? The Vermonster has been busy brainstorming solutions for a few weeks now, but I think we've got it all figured out. We've organized the items in, what I believe, is a manageable and less stressful punch list. Now we can kind of take it easy, actually.
On our last trip to Shangri-La, we came upon several wonderful sites. This:
and this:Oh no, sorry. That's from the Museum of Natural History in New York. But we did discover wild strawberries growing on our property!
Now allow me to get a bit philosophical here for a moment. When we started this project, I wasn't so sure that it was a wise decision. After all, we're two people with no building experience, and one of us is clueless when it comes to things mechanical. One of us is also very clumsy, so it didn't really seem like the smartest thing to do. But I will admit (just don't tell the Vermonster), that this has been quite a learning experience for me. Today while I was at the gym, I actually chose to watch HGTV over the Food Network. They were re-doing a backyard and building a Japanese pagoda/deck. The host asked the owner of the house, "Have you ever used a nail gun?" The big, burly guy said, "No," and I was like, "What? Come on, wuss!" Because, you see, I believe that once you've used a Paslode, you can do almost anything.
Now I can change the belts in the vacuum cleaner. I can take the grill apart to clean it. And you know what? I even know what a fuse box is for. I may not have been able to light up a dollhouse in 7th grade science class, but check me out now, Mr. Vince! I can wire up a cabin for a microwave, stove and lights while simultaneously entertaining a 4-year-old. So while logistics like septic vs. well plague the Vermonster at night, I've been going to sleep feeling like Wonder Woman.

On Optimistic Estimates

2010-07-04T16:46:00.003-04:00

Well, the fix is in: The revised septic is going to cost me about $6,700. Certainly better that the 11k+/- we were facing with the mound system, but significantly above the $5k I budgeted (and the $3,500 I was secretly hoping for). The same day the estimate came in, I happened to learn that psychologists long ago identified a systematic bias in humans toward overly optimistic estimates - even when those humans have experience with the thing being estimated. I don't have experience with estimating septic systems, but it helps to know that it wouldn't have mattered if I had. *sigh*

My original hope for this year had been to finish the siding (which means also building the front porch), install the electrical, hook up the well so we had water on the property (even if it was only through a hose) and get the septic installed. Doing this would mean that we could stay overnight and the exterior of the property would look finished - at least to the extent that the grass and grading would be complete.

The well, however, was about 2,000 more than I expected, and the septic looks like it will be the same, so something is going to have to wait. Our options:

Scrounge about $700 to put the septic in and wait on the well and porch
Finish hooking up the well, complete the porch and siding, and tuck away the remaining $2,500 toward next year's work.

I was on my way to arranging for the septic, but the LSW has convinced me that we should finish the well. Her reasoning? If we go with the well, porch and siding, at least we can say that everything we began this year is finished, and we have the option of staying overnight on occasion. If we go with the septic, we have the biggest remaining item out of the way, but only the electrical will actually be done, and we still can't use the place.

As always, I've asked Dan Taylor of Taylor excavating to take care of the trench from the well to the cabin, and Green Mountain Well will complete the process by adding the pump, pressure tank, hookup, sanitizing of the system and water testing. These items are supposed to come in at about $3,000 in total, and rest assured I've included a cushion to compensate for the so-called 'optimism bias' this time.

The Remains of the Day

2010-06-26T18:15:00.003-04:00

Is there anything better than sitting in a comfortable recliner, fresh from a hot shower and a cold IPA in hand after 6 hours of travel and 5 hours of hard labor? Save your breath - I can state conclusively that there isn't. Unless you garnish the scene with a hot barbecue pulled pork sandwich topped with cold slaw. And maybe some sweet potato fries. Ah, well - 3 out of 5 ain't bad.

It's troubling, however, that my 5 hours of work bought me about 1/3 more siding on the back wall. That's about 6 boards total, to be honest. If you subtract the setup and tear-down time, that's an astonishing 1 hour per board. Now, granted, there was measuring, cutting and test-fitting multiple times to accommodate the upstairs window, and most had to be stained after they were up, but really, 1 hour per board?? At this rate, the siding will finally be complete - what? - just before I'm dead? They say slow and steady wins the race, though, so I plod along...

It was a milestone day, however, as I was finally working from a power cord plugged into an in-cabin outlet. Yes, CVPS hooked us up yesterday, and Hennessey finished connecting the various circuits into the box. The wiring itself isn't quite done, but the circuits that are now have power. The cloud to this silver lining, however, is that I also got the bill: $847 - about $200 more than I budgeted. Not that the bill from Hennessey was unreasonable - the criticism is aimed solely at my optimistic budgeting. For the record, Hennessey was a pleasure to deal with - I'd recommend them without hesitation.

So now we're waiting on the state to approve the revised septic plan, and Taylor Excavating to provide an estimate. I dare not hope that Dan will tell me that the septic will be $3,500 bucks, but unless he does we won't have both a well pump and a septic system this year. Still, with electrical in the house, we have the option of carting in our own water and staying overnight. Hell, we could even splurge on a solar camping shower and portable toilet and make the accommodations downright luxurious. Huh. I wonder how the LSW would feel about that?

The Quest for Water: Update

2010-06-21T18:57:00.004-04:00

I just spoke with Green Mountain Well.

The good news: We have 20 gallons per minute.
The bad news: They found it at 300'.

Why bad? Because I had budgeted based upon about 200'. And I had assumed 20' feet of well casing. An extra 100' of depth and 80' of casing adds more than $2,000 to the total cost, putting my hopes of installing the septic this year in jeopardy.

The septic monitoring was also a mixed bag. We can move to an in-ground system (which is good), but the perk results dictate a system that is pretty big (which ain't so good). Still, the revised system should be a whole lot less expensive than the mound, so we'll see.

[7/18/10 Update: I got the preceding paragraph wrong. In speaking with the engineer, I understand that the perk actually isn't particularly bad. The system looks big because it is designed for a 3-bedroom home rather than our modest little shoebox. Could I reduce the size? Yes? Should I? Probably not. If I want to expand some day, things will be a whole lot easier and cheaper if I take the incremental cost during the initial install; if I decide to sell, the value will be much higher if the new owners can easily expand.]

My goal this year had been to get both the well and septic in so that:
A) The land that was cleared wouldn't completely regrow to engulf the cabin
B) The value of the property would be significantly enhanced on the off chance we were forced to sell for some reason.

Right now the budget is such that I can either wait on the well pump or wait on the septic system. To meet both goals, I should opt for the former. Though without the well pump, I've got no water for the fledgling grass, and - if the summer is dry - I could end up engulfed in weeds and trees again, resulting in extra expense next year. I suppose the next step is to get some hard estimates on the revised septic...

The Quest for Water

2010-06-20T20:32:00.004-04:00

The well was scheduled for 6/17 - 18, and so we checked into the Saxtons River Inn on 6/16 and were on-site by 7:30 AM the next day. Anticipation gave way to cautious optimism by 9 am, and by 10:30 I sent the LSW to the highway in search of a cell phone signal to find out what was up.

While she was away, I continued plugging away at the wiring, distracted by every vehicle I could hear (but not see) slowing to round the sharp curve at the bottom of our road. At 11:30 the LSW reported that the crew was about 1/2 mile away if we wanted to stop over and get a status.

So that was the racket we had been hearing in the distance all morning!

I worked all day, becoming more irritated with each passing hour, but - in fairness - a message had been left on our home answering machine the evening of 6/16 to let us know they would likely be a day late. We just didn't think to check it. At 5 PM we packed it in and drove the 1/2 mile to find that they were finished, packing up, and about to drop the well-drilling rig off at our place.
And so it was that drilling commenced on 6/18 at about 10 AM, while the LSW and I strung wire and The Boy sat in front of the back door watching the action around the well site. At 4 PM, they closed up shop, having hit ledge at 100', inserted the well casing to that point, and drilled another 20 feet looking for water. Ed stopped by in the middle of the day to check the crew's progress, and explained that the drilling starts using a water mixture that is heavy enough to prevent the hole from collapsing when they remove the drill. As water is continually flushed out of the hole, it is checked to determine if the drill has hit ledge. Once it has, the water keeps the hole open while steel well casing is inserted down to ledge level, and the drilling proceeds using air until water is struck. In our area, they are expecting water somewhere between 100 and 250'. The drilling is pretty slow while they are using water, but speeds up significantly after. This means they should know on Monday where we stand.

Best case: They hit water before 150'
Worst case: They don't hit water after 280' and we have to decide whether or not to spend $2,500 on 'hydrofracking'

At about $9 a foot for drilling, I've got my fingers crossed...

Wired

2010-06-20T08:16:00.007-04:00

I have a new appreciation for why electricians charge what they do. It's not so much that the work is hard as that it takes forever. I have 40+ hours into the wiring effort so far, including design work at home and 2 solid weekends drilling holes, running/stripping/splicing wire, hooking up receptacles, switches and fixtures, and wrapping with electrical tape. The LSW added a few more in doing the same and attaching nailing plates to the studs to ensure we don't drive nails through the wire after the wallboard is up. Half of this work took place during the monsoons last weekend, as the LSW previously reported. The other half took place on Thursday and Friday.

Like anything, the process gets easier as you go. You run a circuit, realize you've made mistakes, and redo it. Or you find an easier way halfway through. A few things I learned the hard way:

Receptacles are polarized. The hot (black or red wire) should be on the side with the narrow slot, and the neutral wire (white) should be on the side with the wider slot.
Make the pigtails (short wires running from a switch or receptacle to a wire nut) long enough to work with.
Don't try and cram everything together. I tried to branch a feeder wire to 4 separate lighting circuits in a triple-gang switch box, and found I couldn't cram it all in once all the connections were made. After mulling this over all night I realized that I should have done the branching in a double gang box in the basement below the switches, simplifying both my connections at the switches and my ability to trace the circuit later.
Working in a crawlspace sucks. Every single time I went down there I tried to stand up and cracked my skull against a floor joist. Next time: A full basement.
Spacing floor joists 1 foot on center is great for stability, but makes it really hard to drill holes to run wires...

The monsoon weekend, I was able to run the 15-amp general receptacle circuit, the 50-amp range circuit, the 20-amp basement GFI socket circuit, and the 20-amp, 240-volt well pump circuit. With these in place, I left a key with Hennessey electric, and they hooked the circuits into the panel, installed the meter socket and got me ready for CVPS to hook up the power. There were two challenges here:

The service hookup in Vermont has to be to a gable end, has to be at least 16' above grade, and must be more than 3' from any window. This was a challenge, but CVPS allowed me to come in above the window at the very tip of the gable, despite the fact that I didn't quite have the space.
A load panel (aka 'fuse box') is supposed to be placed so that there is 36' inches around it for access. It can't be over a counter or in a closet, and it can't go in a crawlspace. There is no building inspector in Shangri-La, but I wanted everything to be code if possible. This meant that the panel had to go near the front door even though the serviced came in by the back door. To do this, Hennessey had to install a second 100-amp circuit breaker below the meter, to allow the power between the meter and the box to be cut if possible. (Not really a challenge, but certainly more money!)

At this point, I expect I have about 8 hours of wiring left to go. Adding up the receipts, so far I have over $1,300 in materials and - I expect - about $300 for labor. I'm thinking I saved about $1,000 in labor by doing it myself.

While we were working on this, Green Mountain Well was on site drilling for water. More about that in the next post...

Rain, rain, go away!

2010-06-13T20:39:00.005-04:00

LSW here.

Here's our new checklist before leaving for Shangri-La:
_Do we have the keys?
_Did we pack sweatshirts?
_Did we check the weather forecast?

This weekend we had the keys, but neglected the other two items. We arrived to find it A) pouring rain and B) freezing cold. In addition, our lumber hadn't been delivered.

Hmmm.This looked like quite a dilemma. And of course, there's always the question of what do you do with a four-year-old in a dark, cold cabin for eight hours? It was looking bleak. However, things turned around pretty quickly. The Boy was quite content to sit in the car and pretend he was driving while The Vermonster showed me how to hook up wires to sockets. Oh yes I did! I used wire cutters and a screw driver! I hooked up some electric shizz. No need for you, DeVry University.

Around lunchtime, I headed out to get some sandwiches and to find a place where I could get cell reception to make some calls. First, I called the lumber company and was told the wood was being delivered within the hour. Second, I called my parents who said they *might* come up to see the digs. I hoped to catch them before they left to say, "Don't come! It's raining cats and dogs!" But when my dad answered, he said they were at the Vermont rest stop.

Let me divert just a moment to say that the Vermont Welcome Center is an attraction onto itself. When you pull into the parking lot, there's an open barn/gazebo type place where the library raises money by selling home baked goods and used books. The main building is a huge, new barn-like structure with displays from area stores, tourist sites, etc. There are tons of brochures and of course, bathrooms. If you ever go to Vermont, be sure to take a break there.

So I got some sandwiches at the Putney Co-Op and got back to the cabin just before my parents arrived. Our first lunch guests! We showed them around the place ("This will be a closet, this will be a bathroom") and then I decided to head down to Brattleboro with them while the Vermonster worked on the electrical.

All that rain was a blessing in disguise. He got the bulk of the wiring done, which probably wouldn't have happened had it been sunny.

The Saxton's River Inn was booked for the night (there was a local music festival going on), so we stayed in a cabin at the Brattleboro North KOA campground. Had it been a nice evening, we could've sat outside and had a fire and roasted marshmallows. Instead, The Boy got to watch the first half hour of Toy Story and then we went in search of pizza. We ended up in Bellows Falls at the Athens Pizza & Family Restaurant. It's the kind of place where you give your order at the counter and then bring it to your table. We ordered a large pepperoni pizza and two glasses of Cabernet. The wine was chilled, so that tells you a little something about the place. We were hesitant to eat there because we live in Connecticut, the epicenter of fantastic pizza. We've never had good pizza outside of Connecticut, and the rest of New England suffers from Crappy Pizza Syndrome. I have to say, though, that this pizza was actually really good in a junk food sort of way. Even The Boy ate an entire piece. We went back to the rental cabin where all three of us immediately hit the hay and slept until 8.

This morning we went back to the cabin and The Vermonster finished up the wiring while I painted some more siding. We stopped at the Top of the Hill BBQ we always go to and had lunch and now we are back. For three whole days. On Thursday, the well drilling begins!

Look what I can do !

2010-06-07T22:34:00.008-04:00

LSW here, trying to get in a quick blog post before my computer takes a dirt nap.
First of all, let me just state for the record that 1) the Vermonster knows I am not a morning person and work at only 1/8 of my capacity before 9 a.m.; 2) Not only do I have to pack and get myself out the door in the morning, but The Boy as well, which is no easy feat, I assure you; and 3) The Vermonster was the one who took my keys instead of his own, so I claim no responsibility whatsoever in the Great Key Mishap of 2010.
Now, onto the cabin.
I must admit, I've gotten off to a sluggish start this year. My enthusiasm has waned a bit, probably more out of the stress of having to manage a 4-year-old AND a 42-year-old, rather than building the cabin itself.
However, something happens every time we cross over the border into Vermont. All that green in the mountains makes my heart skip a beat. I can't wait to finish this damn thing so we can finally enjoy all of the beauty (and beer, and food, and artsy stuff) around us.We had a great weekend for building and The Boy was content to roll around in the dirt while we started building the front deck. I felt like hot $#@t on toast using the drill and the ratchet set, not to mention the Paslode. I'm convinced that the men of the world are keeping these tools a secret; they're afraid we're going to go all Martha Stewart on them and start building chicken coops and fixing our own bathrooms, thus taking from them all their super powers. I think I'm going to start a new section of this blog: "Tool of the Week." Stay tuned. You won't want to miss it. In the meantime, check out this beautiful river we accidentally found just down the street from Shangri-La.

The Other 60 Percent

2010-06-07T18:45:00.009-04:00

I read somewhere that when you have a lockable shell, you're only about 40 done. That seems slightly pessimistic when I quickly tick off the remaining items, but clearly realistic when I sit down to write out what still needs to be done in detail. Add in the amount of time it actually takes to cross any given item off the list, and you begin to wonder if you'll ever actually be finished.

But "the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step", and so each weekend I plod along, a bit overwhelmed but still enjoying the journey. Since the last post, there have been 3 trips to Shangri-La, two solo and one with LSW and The Boy in tow.

On the first trip I arrived with a punch list of items: Finish siding the south wall, build the bridge between the lofts, and put up the walls in the crawlspace. A solid day's work, I figured forgetting that a day is 24 hours at best, and only 8 hours realistically given the 6 hours of travel. In the end, the siding was all I accomplished, and even that I ran out of before the south wall was done.

No worries, though - we had planned an overnight the following weekend, and we had big plans to make bigger progress. We were up early and out on time for once, the wife actually stayed awake the whole trip and companionable banter sped the journey along. The Boy was in a good mood, the sun was shining and the mercury settled in the low 70s. Everything was absolutely perfect until we pulled up in front of the cabin and I turned off the car.

"Tell me you brought the keys," I said to the LSW.
"I thought you had them," she replied.
Son of a ...

Faced with a challenge from the universe to practice my zen actively, I calmly dropped the family at our beloved Saxtons River Inn, and spent the next 6 hours in a round-trip journey to retrieve the keys.

Here's the thing, though: Compelled to book a second night, we were pleased to be given the best room in the place "because we were regulars". Sitting that second night with a cold beer after a long day of work on our private front porch overlooking the main street, I had one of those moments where everything - and I mean everything - felt perfect and I knew life could not possibly be any better. So there was that, anyway.

And what did we get done? The deck framing is in place for the front porch, the rear gable is ready for the power hookup and both the general and oven circuits have been run. Less work than I thought we could accomplish, but what else is new?

This last weekend I was on the road by 5:30 am and hard at work by 8:45. I would have been there a little sooner, but I couldn't resist stopping at the Saxtons River Market for a bottled water and a hot donut. Those donuts will kill me one day, but what a way to go. The weather was deceptive: It was the kind of day where you felt slightly chilled while standing still, but were pouring rivers of sweat as soon as you lifted any tool. Really, really, really, humid. I didn't do too bad, though: The walls are up in the crawlspace and the bridge is finally built between the lofts. I rewarded myself with a hot roast beef and Cheddar from the Putney Co-op and listened to the dishy 'Mrs. Astor Regrets' on CD on the way home. The latter is a guilty pleasure, but then who doesn't like to hear about the self-destruction of the rich?

Unless of course, you're the rich in question. Then it just sucks.

In other news, Larry expects to get the meter socket on the house this week, and he'll be contacting me soon about running the power to the panel and hooking up the first couple of circuits. I understand that the revised septic plans are on their way to the State of VT as of last Friday, and even as I write I'm waiting for a callback from Green Mountain Well Drilling about moving my well date from the end of July to the end of June. All good stuff.

The 2010 working season begins!

2010-04-26T17:51:00.006-04:00

So I'm up at 6 and ready to go at 6:30. The LSW, however, is sick, and The Boy has decided to spite me by sleeping in for the first time...well, ever. Despite these obstacles, somehow we're on the road by 7:45 - not bad, all things considered.

And what's the occasion? The electrician is meeting with me at 11 AM to talk through my wiring plans. I've got it in my head that I can wire most of the place by myself, and I'm looking for a paid mentor to ensure that I don't kill us all with wayward electrons.

'Larry' shows up promptly at 11 and is polite and professional, despite the fact that I've come up with a 200-amp, 13-circuit plan to wire a 16' x 28' shoebox. And 4 of those circuits are 240 volt. His changes are modest: Take the refridgerator off the GFI circuit and make all the 15-amp circuits 20-amp instead. And we agree to ditch 2 items in the original plan: A generator hookup and a motorhome hookup. Both can be added later if needed, and neither of us can envision my father being able to navigate his bus-sized RV up my narrow dirt road. So what am I planning?

Circuit 1: General purpose receptacle loop - 9 plugs, a smoke detector and a closet light
Circuit 2: Refrigerator plug
Circuit 3: Rear spotlight, kitchen light, kitchen work lights, bath fan/light and bath vanity light
Circuit 4: Front spotlight, entry light, porch light, and main track lights
Circuit 5: Microwave
Circuit 6: Crawlspace receptacles (GFI), exterior receptacles, and crawlspace lights
Circuit 7: Bath receptacles (GFI - separate circuit required by code)
Circuits 8 and 9: Kitchen receptacles (GFI - 2 circuits required by code)
Circuit 10: Range/Oven
Circuit 11: Well pump
Circuits 12 and 13: 9,000 watts of electric baseboard heating for the cabin and crawlspace

And why am I heating the crawlspace? Well, I'm not - not all of it, anyway. The land slopes, leaving half the foundation exposed. To be sure we can use the place in the winter without water lines freezing, I've Isolated all of the plumbing to the wall separating the kitchen from the bath. In the crawlspace below, I'm going to frame in an insulated 10' x 8' room for the expansion tank, hot water heater (electric) and plumbing. I'll heat this with a 4' baseboard heater on its own thermostat, and empty the lines when we're not there.

I considered propane heat for the cabin, but between the super-insulation and the small size, I'm thinking electrical might not be that much more expensive, especially as we're going to install a small wood stove. In the long run, we're likely to install solar and feed the power back to CVPS, which - given that we'll only use the place on weekends - should make our electrical essentially free.

So Larry will take care of the hookup and anything needed to get to the breaker panel, and then he'll inspect my work and hook it in when I'm done. I'm buying all of the materials from the panel on, running all the wires and tying everything together. Or that's the plan, anyway.

It was a beautiful day to work, as it turned out. 70 degrees, few bugs, and The Boy stayed on his best behavior despite the long day and long trip. And despite illness, the LSW managed to help me get another 15' of siding up, which was pretty good considering how slow the siding went when I was working by myself.

And so the work begins for another year...

This Cabin Brought to You By ...

2010-04-22T21:19:00.004-04:00

LSW here, dusting off the old blog and preparing for Vermont 2010: The Adventure Drags On. I've had the whole winter to sit and contemplate what it will someday be like when I'll have the opportunity to call up my pride of cougar friends and say, "Girls' weekend at the cabin! Chocolate, wine and sweat pants!" It's too exciting to think about, actually. I know that day will come, but the reality is that we still have a whole big butt load of work to do.
There's the septic and well, electricity and plumbing, flooring and tiling. It's a bit overwhelming, but we know we've got to take it one step at a time.
The other issue is the fundage. Until the well and septic are done, we have no idea how much we'll have in the budget this year for all the other stuff. It occurs to me: you know what we need? We need a sponsor! I can picture it now: print ads with the two of us, almost like American Gothic standing there in front of the cabin, saying, "We did it! So can you!" and then there will be all the info for, say, Owens Corning insulation or Kohler plumbing supplies.
We could even be like a reality show in ads. Where are we in the process this month? Check out the ad in Better Homes & Gardens!
Are we willing to sell our souls to the dark side of advertorial? You betcha! Bring it on, building supply companies. We're ready and willing.

Checking In - March Edition

2010-03-13T17:56:00.003-05:00

The snow is melting, the mercury is rising, and I'm slowly recovering my enthusiasm to get back to work. Looking at everything to be done, however, is a little overwhelming: Well, Septic, Landscaping, Electrical, Plumbing, Flooring, Wallboard, Cabinetry, appliances, fittings and fixtures, the remainder of the siding, front porch, back porch, deck, etc., etc. Easy enough if you're either made of money or willing to take out a loan. I'm not and I'm not, respectively, so I'm being forced to to scale back last year's end-of-season dream of hiring a contractor to do the rest for me. So what to tackle next, and how?

Mulling this over for the last month, I've decided on three priorities for this year:

1) Finish last year's work. This includes completing the interior wall framing (furnace room, bathroom and closet), completing the loft catwalk and installing stairs, and finishing the exterior siding. All of this can be done for less than $1,000 as I have half the materials on hand.

2) Get power to the cabin. I've been in full research mode on wiring, and I've concluded that 80% of it is work I can do myself. I'll hire an electrician to inspect the work, wire the load panel, and hook up to CVPS. Including materials, about $1,500.

3) Drill a well. Once we have water available on the property, the prospect of staying there won't be so daunting, even if the 'real' plumbing isn't yet in place. I also want to know for a fact that I have water before I invest in septic. So what's involved?

There seem to be 3 well drillers in the area, and I drove up today to meet with the one who's name I've heard most frequently. 'Ed' from Green Mountain Well Drilling met me promptly at 11 am, confirmed that he could get to the well site with his drilling rig, and then settled onto a stack of wood in the cabin to fill me in on the process. My notes:

Most drillers will drill the well, line it from the surface to the bedrock, test the water, install the pump, run the water and power lines to the house, install the pressure tank, and tie into power and plumbing if needed. Excavating for the power and water lines can be done for an extra fee.
Ed has done a number of wells in the area, including the one across the street. He expects that the lining will need to be about 40', and that we should hit adequate water at about 250'.
The worst case scenario is that we miss the water entirely and find we've got 400 feet and nothing to show for it. If that happens, I can do 'hydrofracking' (breaking new fissures in the bedrock by injecting pressurized water). It's expensive at $2,200, but he guarantees we'll get water.
All said an done, the job will be somewhere between $3,500 and $10,000, although he expects my job will probably work out to about $5,000.
Shangri-La's heavy equipment prohibition means we can't do the work until May 15th, although Ed noted that the lack of snow means the roads will likely be passable by late April. The work should take about 2 days in total.
He also noted that we may find that my water is high in minerals - particularly magnesium. If so, we may need to add a filter to the system.

It was a nice conversation, ranging from the business at hand to solar energy, the state of American manufacturing, local agriculture, and cooking. It occurred to me that it was the first time I had had the opportunity to invite someone inside the cabin to talk, and so - even though it was a professional call - you could argue that we've had our first house guest.

"This place is way overbuilt," he said, looking around. "It ain't gonna fall down, that's for sure."

"That's the nice thing about building it yourself," I replied. "You can do it the way you want to."

Checking In - February Edition

2010-03-06T07:52:00.004-05:00

Ran up to Shangri-La on a Saturday morning in mid-February to talk with a CVPS field technician after receiving a letter informing me that poles need to be replaced in my right-of-way this year. I wasn't opposed to the work, but I wanted to understand how they would access the property and what the work would involve.

Remembering the winter before, I expected to have a hard time walking the property, figuring there would be 2 -3 feet of snow on the ground. I reality, there was less than a foot of very hard snow. I got there about an hour before we were supposed to meet and spent a little time in and around the cabin before walking the right-of-way down the hill to where our road meets the state highway. There were lots of animal tracks - including what looked to be moose tracks - everywhere. Living up here should give The Boy a good education in fauna to supplement his self-study in mushrooms.

Dave pulled up in a CVPS truck about a half-hour ahead of schedule, and we spent some time down at the new pole they put in last spring for my power feed talking about the work. Some notes from our conversation:

The company plans to put in heavier lines to protect against falling limbs and ice storms. This is going to involve adding a third pole to the right-of-way, but it should benefit us, as problems with any portion of the line will kick out power at the bottom of my property, meaning we lose power, too.
The company will access the property where the right-of-way meets the state road. They have equipment that will climb right over the stone wall, so no new curb cuts will be made, and no additional trees need to be felled.
They access the property the same way about once every 10 years to clear the undergrowth in the right-of-way. All brush is chipped and left on the property. Any trees cut can be chipped, but they can be cut into fireplace length and stacked if the homeowner prefers.
The connection to the cabin will need to be 16' off the ground and 3' away from the loft window. This is going to be close - I'll have to bring a measuring tape up next time to see if this will be possible. My other option - as discussed previously - is to go underground at considerably higher expense.
Dave noted that he has lived his whole life in southern Vermont, and had never heard of Shangri-La until he was assigned work here.
Dave's wife has people in SW Connecticut, one town over from where we live. Consequently, he's familiar with the area. Doesn't care for it, though - too many people and too crowded. "I'm a country boy at heart." Amen, brother.

Damn Yankee Flatlanders

2010-01-19T19:40:00.005-05:00

LSW here. Let's just get this straight. We have no business building a cabin in Vermont. Case in point: this weekend. When we went up on Sunday, it was kind of a gray, mushy day. Vermont was not at its most beautiful, but-- good news-- the cabin was still standing.
We went into the big city to have dinner (trying to use a gift certificate, only to be told the restaurant is closed on Sunday nights), but we found another place and had a yummy spinach salad with roasted winter vegetables, candied almonds and fried goat cheese, pizza and a burger. The Boy behaved himself and even ate some food, and we returned to the inn for some reading and snifters of Sapling Vermont Maple Liqueur.*
That's when it all started to go to hell. The Boy, who had been saying how tired he was, decided that, in fact, he'd rather just chat. All. Night. Long.
He finally fell asleep and around 4 a.m., I heard a loud noise. I recognized it immediately: a snow plow.We woke up to find about six inches of beautiful, shimmering white snow capping the trees. It was Vermont at one of its most stunning times.
We tried to go down to the dining room to have breakfast, but The Boy decided he wanted a particular croissant after having already picked out a muffin and proceeded to throw a fit. The Vermonster grabbed him and hauled him upstairs where we waited for the trauma to dissipate. It was time to leave.
So we headed out in the snow-- all of us wearing sneakers-- and realized that we didn't have an ice scraper to get the snow off the car. I'm embarrassed to say, an umbrella was utilized for the task.
Then it was onto the cabin, to take one more look and to take pictures of it in its winter finery.
Let's just cut to the chase: not only do I not have 4-wheel drive, I also have four almost completely bald tires. Yes, we got stuck, right in the middle of the road in front of the cabin. We tried pushing the car, only now it turned horizontally in the road, so now no one would be able to pass if they came up the hill.Picture it, friends. The two of us-- no gloves, no hats (fortunately The Vermonster had boots in the car), with our Connecticut license plate, trying to figure out what the hell we were going to do, while The Boy talked non-stop about anything and everything that came into his field of vision.
We checked one neighbor's house. He wasn't home, but there was a shovel. When that didn't help, we checked another neighbor. No answer there, either. I suspect they were home and laughing their asses off, waiting to see what we'd do next. We finally found another neighbor who had some sand in his truck. We managed to drive the car up a bit and then back it all the way down the hill.
Mortifying.
We are so lame.
Is this cabin really going to happen? Because suddenly, I'm just not picturing it. Before, I imagined cozy nights in front of the fireplace. Now I'm envisioning being trapped in an unheated shell, trying to fashion some sort of snow shoes out of tree branches and signaling for help with a flare gun. We can do this, right? Please tell me we can do this.
*Have we told you about this? Vermont Maple Liqueur. This stuff is amazing. Sounds like it'd be overly sweet, but it's got a nice, smooth sweetness up front and then a serious kick at the end.

Checking In - January Edition

2010-01-17T15:44:00.004-05:00

I'm writing from one of the common rooms at the Saxtons River Inn, enjoying a Switchback ale and trying not to let the gloomy, overcast day get me down. On the plus side, it's in the lower 40s; on the minus, there is mud and dirt everywhere. Blah. But you take the bad with the good, right? Bob (the inn's owner) was here to welcome us back, there's a game on in the pub, and The Boy is behaving, so all in all I can't complain.

The cabin? Still standing and dry on the inside, looking just a little forelorn beneath the grey skies. The only tracks on the property seem to be those of Michael Marquise - the site engineer who stopped by 2 days ago to make sure all of the monitoring tubes were in order for the septic reassessment. I traced his path around the cabin and noticed that the southern side of the roof is completely barren of snow, in contrast to the north side, which still has about 2' worth, trimmed in icicles.

I spoke with Michael (of Marquise and Morano, LLC) a few days earlier to confirm the reassessment work. He had taken the letter I had drafted giving permission to access the property, combined it with the monitoring tube plan he had provided to my excavator last spring, and forwarded both to the State of Vermont. As I understand it, Michael will monitor the tubes weekly throughout March, April and May to see how high the water table rises. Generally speaking, at least 2 of the 11 tubes need to show water no more than about 4' from the surface for the test to be successful. If all goes well, the engineering plans can be revised and turned around to me by mid-June. I'll be about $1,200 poorer, but the savings on the septic work could be as much as $6,000. If the test fails, Michael will stop monitoring immediately and only bill for the time spent. Some of the people around me have in-ground systems, so I've got a better than average shot.

At first I thought this would delay the work this year, but I suppose it doesn't. I've still got siding to finish, the front porch to build, and a few interior walls to put up. Most of the materials for those jobs is already in hand, so I can start when the weather is good enough. Beyond that, I won't know how much cash I'll have to work with this year until around April 15 anyway, so - with a little luck - the septic and well work can begin as soon as the odd jobs are done.

For now, however, there's nothing to do but check on the place once a month and dream of sunny, warmer weather...

Happy Holidays!

2009-12-14T17:24:00.004-05:00

Despite my assertions that I was shutting down until spring, I’ve decided to come out of hibernation to wish both of you Happy Holidays! And while I'm here, I might as well comment upon our most recent trip to Shangri-La to make sure the cabin is still standing...

It is – capped with 2 feet of snow and apparently none the worse for the strain. I had hoped that the 12/12 roof pitch would be enough to shed snow, but the asphalt shingles apparently provide sufficient friction to keep it in place. We’ll see what things are like when we’ve got 5-6 feet in a month or two, but right now I’m feeling pretty good about the oversized roof rafters and the way we tied them to their joists with ½” carriage bolts in 5 locations on each side.

While I blazed an awkward circle in the virgin snow, the LSW and The Boy waited in the car. I popped into the basement to find it dry and uninhabited, and unlocked the front door. As I closed the door behind me, a funny thing happened: My enthusiasm returned. The mental exhaustion that hung over me in October and November lifted, and I actually got excited again about what we were doing. I looked at the stacks for siding and the half-finished bathroom wall, and found myself imagining it all finished, and us unloading the car for a quite winter weekend by the fire, snow gently falling outside the window. Lesson learned: Time away from the project is as important as time on the project.

And so my mind is turning again: Wiring, plumbing, insulation, drywall, flooring, septic, well, porches, etc, etc. What will I do myself, and what will I contract out? What kind of heat will we install? Should we put in a basic solar setup to sell power back to CVPS when we’re not using it? If we have to choose, should we put in the well first or the septic? (I’m leaning toward the well.) Should I build the kitchen cabinets myself?

A lot, of course, depends upon whether or not my esteemed employer decides to provide raises this year, and how much of a bonus pool they’ll provide in this (still) shaky economy. There are a few other potential sources of cabin funds, but the timing for them is uncertain, and I remain resolutely against taking out any loans. Consequently, the only thing we are committed to at this point is the additional septic tests, for which I have already contacted Marquise & Morano. The monitoring will begin in March and conclude in May, and hopefully result in revising plans from the current mound system ($$$$) to a conventional one ($$).

The trip up included an overnight stay at (as always) The Saxtons River Inn. Festooned with lights and decorations, it was a welcoming site on a very cold, dark evening, and the pub - filled with locals, conversation, conviviality and libations - proved a particularly agreeable environment for dinner. As always. The boy even managed to behave this time, and obligingly fell suddenly asleep at 8 PM, allowing the LSW and I to enjoy a stack of new books in peace and quite for a few hours before turning in. Perfect.

We’ll do it all again in January, February and March. Hopefully we’ll be ready to hit the ground running in April and finish this thing off.

Closing Down for the Winter

2009-11-21T17:32:00.002-05:00

Well, this is it: The official notice that we're closed for 2009. Tomorrow is my last working trip to Shangri-La, and my last chance to get one full side of the cabin covered in shiplap before the long winter rest begins.

Thanks to those of you who read along this year, and to those of you who helped! I'll be back in March or April to pick up the effort with the septic and well, and hopefully carry it though to our first weekend stay sometime in late summer or early fall!

The Slow Work

2009-10-24T18:41:00.004-04:00

I have read that the framing is the fastest (and most gratifying) part of building a house - it's all rough cuts and rough nailing, and every day you see big progress as a wall goes up or a roof goes on. And it's true - each weekend this summer left a feeling of accomplishment in its wake, each new picture on my desktop at work drawing comments from passers-by, astonished that one of their desk-jockey compatriots could successfully assault a task so seemingly daunting.

Now? Not so much. The picture from 3 weeks ago showed siding on one side of the building up to the first window. 2 weeks ago the picture had siding up to the 2nd window. With any luck, this week's picture will show one side finished. My co-workers are starting to sneak past my desk without comment.

In fairness to me, I'm now working by myself, one day a week, in increasingly cold weather. By the time I get there and set up, it's almost 10, and I begin to pack up for home by 2. Not exactly a recipe for rapid progress. But the goal is to get all the trim up and get one wall sided, so I keep plugging away. (Thank god, by the way, that I chose white pine shiplap rather than shingles; at this rate I'd be 3 years dead of old age before the shingles would be finished.)

I expect that this weekend (or next) will be the last for the year, and then we'll settle for staying at the Saxton's River Inn once per month (they gave us the corporate rate - thanks!) to check on the place and have a nice meal. Maybe we'll spend some time getting better acquainted with the other 2.5 acres on the property, and I've promised The Boy we'd do some sledding - the cleared slope of land from the cabin to the utility right-of-way should be perfect for it. Might even rent a snow machine or two and explore some of the VAST trails. In any event, it will be nice to go up to relax for a few weekends for a change.

On the plus side, our little slice of heaven has been painfully picturesque as the fall has progressed, and the fresh donuts at the Saxton's River Market seem to get even better as the temperature drops. With the leaves gone, I've noted that - with a little clearing - we've got an potentially nice view of the ridge to the West to add to the current view from the East. We'll have the perfect view from either porch. Nice.

I'm Exhausted

2009-10-11T19:36:00.002-04:00

So I'm sure the two of you who read have noticed the posts getting sparse lately. Sorry about that, but I'm exhausted.

For example, today I got up at 5 am to be on the road by 6. Got to the cabin by 9 am, and began setting up to continue the siding in 40 degree weather. Spent 6 hours covering on 16 feet, and then spent 3 1/2 hours on the road to arrive home at 6:30. Such has been my life each Sunday for the last (?) number of weekends, trying to get the siding up before it gets too cold to work any more.

I know: Boo-Hoo. Just the price you pay for a 'vacation home'. (Actually, I had always assumed that if you could afford a second home, you could afford to pay someone to build it. Sigh.)

It's all good, though - VT is beautiful in the fall. After a few days of rest, I'll post a real update.

Nature Hunting at Shangri-La and A Lesson Learned

2009-09-11T15:49:00.006-04:00

LSW here. It was a fun-filled Labor Day weekend up in Shangri-La. We couldn't have asked for better weather. In fact, it was so beautiful, it seemed kind of a shame that we couldn't enjoy all the local goings-on. Ah, well. Our sadness was quelled by this awesome find:

Bird skull! The Boy is very into mushrooms right now, so the Vermonster and I took turns taking him on nature hunts. In addition to the bird skeleton, we found turkey tail mushrooms and coral mushrooms and ... a roach (the smoking kind, not the moving kind. Apparently the roofer had a little smoking break).

One of the first things I noticed when The Boy and I arrived was a horrible screaming sound, like a bunch of children were being lured into a witch's candy house. "Is that a baby?" I asked.
The Vermonster said, "It would seem the neighbors have a couple of new kids-- not the human kind." We're guessing they're goats, although I suppose they could be sheep or maybe even peacocks. In any case, they screeched all day, drowning out the rooster's cock-a-doodle-dooing.

Lesson #1 learned on this trip: Just because two doors are in the same rack at Home Depot doesn't mean they're the same size. Yeah, that front door slid in real easy. A little too easy. There was about 4 inches of extra space, so the Vermonster had to re-frame the hole.
I can't say I was much help over the weekend; mostly I painted trim and weather-proofed underneath the sheathing. I just put this photo here so you could check out my cool shades I got for $1 at the National Liquidators Closing Sale.
By the end of the weekend, we managed to put in all the windows and doors, so we now officially have a lockable cabin, which means we can finally start storing stuff up there instead of hauling it with us every time.

Weathertight and Lockable

2009-09-11T08:53:00.006-04:00

The LSW and I packed up The Boy this weekend and headed back up to VT, with the goal of getting the place lockable and weather-tight. 9 double-glazed ModernView windows were being delivered on Saturday morning, and I had 2 Home Depot insulated fiberglass doors and one homemade crawlspace door in the truck with me.

I was out of the house by 5:30 AM, and arrived on site by 8:30, after a brief stop at the Saxton’s River Market to get one of their fresh donuts (the SRM donut thing has become a bit of a habit). The place looked great with the roof on it, but the roofer’s attention to detail was a little off; the Tyvek I asked him to complete on the rear gable was forgotten, and he didn’t put spacers under my 1 x 8 gable trim to get it to stand proud of the shingle siding I’m going to put on. Lesson learned: If you have to hire something out, be on site while the work is happening. Still, I’m not complaining – overall I’d recommend him. In the end, the sheathing and shingling work came to about $3,200.

I spent about an hour cleaning while waiting for the windows (and the wife) to arrive. It occurred to me that I had never put in vinyl windows before, and I had no idea how heavy they were. It would really suck to find that they were too heavy for the two of us and so the weekend was wasted. Fortunately, they were lighter than I expected, and I had 4 of them installed before the LSW pulled in with The Boy at about 11.

I knew from the start that I was going to use double-glazed vinyl windows, so it was just a question of brands. Lavalley’s had JenWeld and ModernView, the principle difference being price (the JenWeld were about 20% more expensive) and the warranty (20 years for JenWeld vs. 10 for ModernView). Otherwise they looked identical. In the end, my rapidly diminishing bank account forced my hand on the cheaper option, although I did splurge on internal muntins and the jam extensions. Six 3’ x 4’ and three 3’ x 3’ new construction windows came to about $1,670.

The big surprise of the weekend was discovering that I had purchased 2 different door sizes – 36” wide and 32” wide. Both were supposed to have been 36”. I’m not sure how I missed this when I bought them, but I was committed to making the place lockable that weekend, so I made due. There’s supposed to be a closet on the left wall of the front entrance, so I put the smaller door there, figuring it would give me a little more closet space.

In the ‘best laid plans’ category, I had rechecked my crawlspace door calculations no less than 3 times, and still got it wrong. I had to trim an inch off the height and 2 inches off the width, which changed some of the door’s design and meant that I would have to come back to do some finish work on it. At least it’s up and locked. I had debated on whether or not I should by a $100 impact drill for use in securing the crawlspace door jams to the foundation, or just make due with a regular drill, but I’m here to tell you it was worth every penny - more evidence for the idea that if you’re finding the job too hard, you don’t have the right tool. I did, and it couldn’t have been easier.

Standing inside the cabin on Sunday, I had to admit that I was just a little disappointed – the interior of the cabin was darker than I thought it would be. This is because the three windows on the road side face north, there's no window in the Southeast corner (due to the entry closet), and the window heights conspire with the roof overhang to shut out most of the direct sunlight. I suspect that the situation will be better in the winter when the sun is lower, but I may need to rethink the closet design to allow for at least one more window. The LSW also opined that the drywall is likely to brighten up the interior significantly, and I’m guessing she’s right. A skylight or two would also help, but I just can’t cotton to the idea of a hole in the roof.

The neighbor up the hill stopped by on his 4-wheeler and introduced himself. I asked him what he knew about the property – I reckoned it to be too small and hilly for crop or grazing land, but the stone wall and some remaining strands of barbed wire hinted that it was used for something. He said that it had been an apple orchard in the 30s and 40s when he was growing up in the cabin across the street, and that he could see all the way down the hill and across the neighbor’s fields. The land is mostly forested now - it's surprising how much nature can reclaim in 70 years. He also mentioned that the trails at the top of the hill (one of which is the abandoned portion of our road) let out in 4 different places, and recommended a 4-wheeler as the best method for exploring them. So now – in addition to the planned Snowmobile – I’ve got two toys on my wish list.

The LSW helped with the doors, chased after the boy, procured lunches, and painted the trim boards, which will go up throughout September. Other work that remains: Self-adhering flashing around the windows, Tyvek on the back gable, and shingles on the sides. At that point, the initial funding for this little escapade – about $56,000 – will be depleted. I figure that there is about $35,000 in work left, including the well, septic, plumbing, wiring and finishing, so now I’ll be forced to pray for raises, bonuses and tax returns if we’re ever actually going to enjoy the place. Of course, if we think of it as a big tent, we’ve now got a place to camp…

Just for Fun

2009-08-29T19:05:00.004-04:00

LSW here. I saw this news item from the AP and had to share. A student at the University of Buffalo couldn't afford housing, so he built himself an 8-by-10 foot cabin on the campus. College officials made him leave, but one has to ask: Why did they wait until he built the cabin? Weren't they a little suspicious at the sight of a student hauling in stacks of wood? Best part of the story: his name is Brian Borncamp.

I predict a gypsy caravan in our future

2009-08-27T16:31:00.009-04:00

LSW here. I saw this book, "Shed Chic" by Sally Coulthard, at the library the other day and thought it looked kind of cool. Funny how one person's definition of "shed" is another person's dream house.
When I think of "shed," I think of a small, dark box that smells of oil and gas and fertilizer and is inhabited by spiders and their nasty, disgusting cottony egg sacs. A shed is a place where you keep your lawn mower, your collection of broken and dirty clay pots, your gardening tools and miscellaneous cans of bug spray, paint and other toxic liquids that hopefully the neighbor's cats (or kids) won't get into.
That's not the kind of shed this book is about.
Obviously these are funky out-buildings used for writing, painting, woodworking, relaxing and entertaining Thurston and Lovey Howell. There are some very cool ideas in here, but one that really takes the cake: gypsy caravans.

Yeah, you heard me right. You know, those funky wagon-type things that are painted in crazy colors and designs. Well, apparently there's a whole subculture of caravan makers, restorers and painters. How could we have overlooked this as a possibility for housing at Shangri-La? As I have gypsy blood in me (my great-grandfather was a gypsy in Bohemia), I'm feeling like we definitely need to have one of these on the property. Maybe I can do tarot readings and tea parties out of it for some extra income. Or sell chocolates. I can see it now: "Gypsy Chocolates & Tarot Readings."
In any case, this discovery had us searching the web last night for more info and we found Tiny House Blog, which is a really cool resource. They had a page dedicated to caravans.
Needless to say, the Vermonster has been reading more and more about these and has mentioned a couple of times now that there are classes offered in building gypsy caravans. Yeah, um, just putting it out there right here and now: Not. Going. To. Happen. Unless I'm the one who gets to take the class.

Remaining Flexible

2009-08-22T17:44:00.007-04:00

Just got back from another day trip up to Shangri-La to inspect the progress on the roof. These day trips are rough - what with 6 hours in the car and less than an hour on site - but I've found that the trip is easier with a book on CD. Today's selection was Dennis Leary's 'Why We Suck', which I enjoyed much more than I thought I would. It struck me that the guy bridges right- and left-wing nicely, and - I hesitate to admit this - seems to mirror my own views very closely, if blatantly incorrectly politically.

Anyhoo - the house: Very different feel to it with a solid roof. The eaves now form a visible presence out the side windows, feeling sort of like an umbrella above a patio table. Nice. Also, the gable-end trim boards are up - the first piece of exterior finish carpentry, and the first bit of color and hint of what the exterior will look like. And, unfortunately, another mistake: Turns out that I should have used 5/4" trim to ensure that the trip stood proud of the siding, which I had planned would be 3/4" white pine shiplap. Instead, I used 1 x 4 Windsor One, which - at 3/4" wide - would end up being flush with the shiplap, looking very flat and odd. Rather than ask the roofer to rip it off and replace it, I've decided to side the gables with shingles instead, which will provide at least a little shadow line, and will provide a (hopefully) interesting contrast between the lower and upper halves of the house.

The roofer - Andy Harris of H-Squared Carpentry - expects to add the shingles later this week; we'll settle up on Labor Day weekend when the LSW, The Boy and I go up to install the windows and doors.

No, I didn't kill myself on the job...

2009-08-18T15:28:00.005-04:00

Now that both of you who read this blog have given up on the idea that I will ever post again, I'm back. What can I say? I've been too busy working on the cabin to spend time writing about it.

Since the LSW's last post on July 1, we've spent 3 long weekends and 2 additional Saturdays finishing the walls and sheathing, framing the lofts and roof, and working through the 'punch list'.

Some random notes:
1) Camping in tents absolutely sucks (see the aforementioned 7/1 LSW post)
2) Camping in a bus-sized motor coach ain't nearly so bad (thanks, dad!)
3) A certain motor lodge on Rt 30 can be packed every time you pass it and still be found to be dirty and filled with spiders when you finally book yourself in
4) Super 8 is actually a very clean, economical, and convenient option, especially after you've checked yourself out of a certain spider-infested motor lodge on Rt 30
5) Suffering through a very cool and rainy June and July is infinitely preferable to working in a suddenly hazy, hot and humid August. Thank god we got most of the framing done before the weather turned!
6) When framing a roof, it really helps to have people taller than 5'5" around. Kudos to my sister for marrying above her, so to speak.
7) Note to self for the next time: It is the rafters that should be 12" on center, not the loft joists that connect them. It took a lot of extra 2x4s to ensure that the roof sheathing would have something to land on.
8) Pulling down all of the wall sheathing and re-hanging it is not fun. If you're learning as you go, read the directions before committing the materials.
9) A 12/12 pitch roof (45 degrees) is not for the timid, even if it does begin only 9' off the ground.
10) The money goes really, really quickly.

We're now taking a 2-3 week break while the roofers sheath and shingle (see #9 above). The windows have been ordered - 6 at 3'x4' and 3 at 3'x3' - and should be in by 8/27.

Ridge Poles and Rafters

2009-07-29T16:58:00.003-04:00

LSW here. Last weekend was a busy one. Not really for me, as I was on child-watching duty, but the Vermontster and his entourage of sister and brother-in-law did some mighty serious building. It was all ridge poles and rafters for the weekend. (Excuse the tiny pictures; we're experiencing technical difficulties.)
I don't have much to say about it all, because my experiences from the weekend mostly revolved around seeing a fox, checking into (and out of) the River Bend Lodge (sorry folks, we gave it a shot, but we're not willing to share our rooms with families of spiders), and cooking on the ~~open hearth~~ electric griddle. But as you can see, it's starting to look like a real genuine cabin! Woo hoo!
My one big effort of the weekend was pretty much a disaster. I tried to build some semblance of a private area for doing one's private business, but it was flawed. A hula hoop, two shower curtains, some plastic ties and string have now set me back $5, bringing MY total up to $808.

How much does it cost to build a cabin? Here's the real answer

2009-07-14T13:14:00.005-04:00

LSW here again.
I thought I'd start my own accounting log of how much the cabin is costing us. Let's see:

Speeding ticket: $300
Insurance deductible from the damage done to my car from backing into a tree while camping: $500
Special camping salt and pepper shaker that I bought because I figured we'd be camping all summer: $1.00
Big bag o' plastic toys bought at a tag sale to keep the Boy occupied while we work: $2.00

LSW's total: $803.00

Remember: Doing a project will always take twice as long and cost three times as much as you anticipate!

An update, of sorts

2009-07-12T07:52:00.006-04:00

We've got the power!

LSW here. There's a lot to report from the past few weeks, but what we're learning is that, after nailing and screwing all day (the kind of nailing and screwing that people who've been married for 15+ years do), you don't really have any desire to write about it.
But there have been some big changes and a few lessons learned, such as:
1) You don't hang sheathing randomly or else you're going to have to do it all over again. And trust me, you don't want to do this any more than necessary.
2) The right tool for the right job. I don't know how the pioneers made houses without electric power tools.(Nothin' sexier than a chick with power tools. That's what they tell me, anyway.)
3) You get a heck of a lot more work done when you leave the Boy with his aunt and Memaw for the weekend.
4) Brother-in-laws can be enormously useful, especially when they want to flee a house filled with Memaw and a three-year-old nephew.
5) You're much more productive when you've had a good night's sleep in a Super 8 as opposed to a hellish experience in a leaky tent. (And breakfast is included!)

Again, I'll leave the specifics up to the Vermonster, particularly the explanation of how to get sheathing up, up, up top!

It's all relative

2009-07-01T07:57:00.005-04:00

Look, Ma, we got us some walls! LSW here with the latest report. This past weekend, the Vermonster's sister and husband came with us to Vermont to lend some much-needed brute strength to the process. Because the Vermonster comes from a family of ~~incredibly stubborn~~ determined individuals, they worked their butts off and got some major work done. By the end of the weekend, the cabin was all boxed in (I'm sure there's a technical term to be used here) and it's actually starting to look like something.
While they were busy hammering and cutting, I was off with the kids buying candy at the Vermont Country Store and looking at all the groovy shops in Brattleboro. I definitely had the good end of the deal this time.
The weekend, however, wasn't all hammers and rainbows. As you might recall from a previous post, this was going to be our first weekend camping instead of staying in a hotel. The campground was nice enough and the bathrooms were relatively clean (minus the salamander under the toilet seat)-- very important after a day of working. We set up our tent and the first night we made S'mores and relaxed by the fire. It was all kumbaya goodness. It was the second night that things took a terrible turn. A major thunderstorm came through at about 10 p.m. and it rained all night long. The boy woke up the next day and the first thing he said was, "I don't want to go camping; I want to go home." So we packed up our stuff in the rain (imagine what fun that was), and got ready to head home. But not before I backed into a tree, breaking my tail light and crushing my driver's side back panel. Good fun. Needless to say, we've cancelled our campsite for next weekend. We're going to go the luxurious route and stay at the local motor inn.
(Above, I'm a klassy camper, drinking wine straight out of the cardboard box.)

Framing the Floor

2009-06-22T11:58:00.006-04:00

As the LSW reported, we made significant progress last week. We began work at noon on Saturday, and – despite rain and drizzle Sunday morning - managed to get 90% of the floor done by Sunday at 3. I drove back up by myself on Wednesday to finish the job.

My notes from this effort:

The wood was delivered wrapped in metal strapping. I figured there must be some way to remove it without a metal cutter (one of the few things I didn't bring), but I’ll be damned if I could figure it out. In the end we had to shimmy the first piece in each bundle out to loosen the tension and get the rest free. Next time, I’ll bring metal snips.

The top of the foundation looked more level than it actually was. The sills bolted down tight, but after the floor and face joists were in place, I was left with 1/8" to 1/4" gaps in the northeast and northwest corners. I began to shim them, but decided to wait until the walls and roof were up to see if the weight of the whole structure closed them.

I didn’t think to check how the metal bridging – which is sold flat – actually gets installed. My intention had been to install two rows, each about 5’ in from the face joists. I ended up bending the first row into a ‘z’ shape and nailing them to the inside faces of each joist. Something about this didn’t seem right to me, but I went from one end of the building to the other anyway. When I got home and looked it up, I saw that each end should be nailed to the top and bottom of adjacent joists, and felt like an idiot. After installing a row correctly on Wednesday, I considered ripping out first row, but decided to leave them in place so that the next owner can wonder what the hell I was thinking.

My new Paslode cordless pneumatic nailer performed flawlessly; it’s going to be worth its weight in gold.

On Wednesday, CVPS was on site swapping out the pole that is going to feed power to the house. I spent some time talking with the crew, and learned that the Advantek floor sheathing I was using is face-treated with water-proofing, so it should stand up to the elements until I have the roof on. I had hoped that they would hook up my temporary panel, but that, apparently, is a separate job. When I called CVPS on Monday, they expected to complete the job within a week.

After all of the sheathing was in place, I was in the crawlspace installing the bottom ends of the bridging and found myself looking repeatedly at the hatch. There is something about working in a space from which the is only one exit that is unnerving. Not that I expected a bear or the guys from ‘Deliverance’ to show up, but if they did…

The town was hosting a small tag sale and fair at the meetinghouse to raise money for it’s repair. The food was tasty and the folks were very nice. It was nice to see ‘Chris’ again, whom we had met previously at the bar of the Saxton’s River Inn. We also got to go into the meetinghouse for the first time to see first-hand that it needs a lot of work. It really does look like nothing has been done to it since 1817. We made a $50 donation, which I figured was the least we could do to preserve our view.

The LSW easily pulled her weight and made the job more enjoyable, and The Boy was well-behaved despite missing his nap and provided much-needed oversight from the sidelines.

Sadly, this was our last stay at the Saxton’s River Inn before the camping begins. Dinner again was excellent, and homemade donuts and pastries have been added to breakfast. I’ll miss the place – it feels like home at this point.

Next up: Raising the walls with my sister’s family.

Phase II: Introducing the floor, the neighbors and the Stress-o-Meter

2009-06-15T16:03:00.008-04:00

(Pictured above, the crawl space where we'll lock up our booze when we're not there.)

LSW here, writing this blog entry on an old car insurance form found in my glove box. I'm sitting in the car, in the rain, in the parking lot of the inn in Vermont, drinking wine from a plastic cup and noshing on Sun Chips because, alas, once again the boy has fallen asleep in the car after a long day at the cabin site.

Today began Phase II of the Great Cabin Adventure. Some important details:

1. There are exactly 30 cell phone towers visible from the highway from Connecticut to Vermont. I know this because, despite my propensity to fall asleep in the car after 20 minutes, I was forced to follow the Vermonster because the generator wouldn't fit in my car, and the boy's carseat won't fit in the truck. In an effort to stay awake, I blasted Led Zepplin and we counted cell towers. Interestingly, as soon as you cross into Vermont, there aren't any visible towers. (Which would explain the lack of phone reception.)

2. I was the lucky recipient of the first job-site injury. A ginormous splinter the size of a sprinkle (or shot or jimmie, depending upon which part of the country you live in) lodged into my palm. Fortunately I packed the First Aid kit. The Vermonster received the second injury, although I wasn't there to experience it. Something about a hammer and a rusty bolt.

3. I learned first-hand how a house gets attached to a foundation. Something I've always been curious about, but not enough to ever ask.

4. We met one set of neighbors. They were very nice, but I was dismayed that the first thing the wife said was that the other neighbors, "are not nice people." I wanted to say, "For God's sake, I'm not getting involved in neighborhood politics before my damn house is even built!" But instead I said, "Well, we're building this place so we don't have to talk to anyone." The Vermonster was appalled, but really, let's just get this all straight right from the beginning. I'm trying to get AWAY from people, not make new frenemies.

5. I fear the Golden Egg has closed. Fortunately, the Inn at Saxton's River is now offering a better-quality breakfast. Not that it matters since from now on, we'll be roughing it at a campground.

6. I suppose I should make some sort of comment about the actual constructing we did. Well, here's the deal. The Vermonster is very, let's say, precise. (I know my father-in-law will agree with me on this one.) This is a good thing, especially when building something as large as a cabin. The devil is in the details, they say. So I can safely say that this will be the most secure, super-structured cabin in existence. I just hope that our marriage (and other family relationships) will survive this adventure. I know it took a great deal of inner strength for the Vermonster to trust me with a measuring tape and screw driver. I could feel him wanting to double-check my work but he held back for the most part. As the summer progresses, though, I don't know that things will be quite as polite. And so, I introduce the Stress-o-Meter:

This trip, the danger was low, although at the end, when it came time to put a tarp over the foundation, I thought I was going to lose it when the Vermonster started making hospital-corners on the damn thing instead of just tossing it over and tacking it with a few staples. Even the Boy commented that it looked like a big present.

Don_P, Deflection Expert

2009-06-12T12:28:00.004-04:00

For those of you thinking "jeez, I wish I knew more about deflection in floor joists" - you're in luck: Don_P offered this treatise over at CountryPlans.Com:

"Floors are sort of unique in that we typically don't design them by strength but by stiffness. The limiting factor in most floor design is not bending strength or shear but deflection. The original deflection specification that appears as the code minimum is L/360. If a floor spanned 360" it would be allowed to sag 1" under full design load. This standard was initially to prevent plaster cracks in ceilings under a second floor. The use of 30 psf for "sleeping rooms" dates back at least 40 years. This predates our current lifestyles, water beds, mountains of stuff in a home, thin set tile, etc. Length/360 is a comfortably stiff floor in shorter spans, as they get longer it can become annoying. A sure recipe for disappointment is to design for 30 psf, L/360 on a span greater than about 15'. One simple design rule of thumb that came out of this research was that using 40 psf Live Load and designing for L/480 (25% less deflection than L/360) on the joists almost always works. The extreme example given in class was a 2X10 SPF 30psf floor framed 12" oc and spanning the maximum allowable 19'. The floor passes code but the vibration frequency would be 9 Hz, right in the middle of the most annoying range.

The floor frequency check is a way of looking at how a floor performs. In testing researchers found that people are very sensitive to vibrations in the 8-10 Hz range (I've read that this is the range of frequencies for functions in our bodies). They found that most people were comfortable if the floor vibrations were above 15 Hz. I'm not that finely tuned, what drives me nuts is to hear stuff rattling when someone walks across the floor. I'm not really happy with our 2x10 SPF floors that have roughly the same span as yours, my wife doesn't notice them. They check out right at 15 Hz so the average person, whatever that is, should be happy with them.

I've built long spans of 24'+ in a single lightweight engineered span , deflection of L/480+ a few times. In one case the customer complained, I hated the floor. In that case we had a very high vibration frequency but very little mass, it was too easy to get that snare drum vibrating. Having studied this some we added another layer of subfloor and screwed it on 8" centers in every direction. One of two things happened either the floor was made stiffer or we added enough mass to make it harder to excite.

To me that all gets pretty deep, the easy solution is to quit trying to span so far and don't push the limits with longer spans. Under a building its easy to break long spans in half, 1st to second floor requires some thoughtful placement of load bearing walls rather than a clear span building that can be cut up many ways. A stiff floor will still not feel like concrete underfoot until you get way out there. "

Wow. There's a man who knows from deflection.

Milestones and Deflections

2009-06-12T12:20:00.005-04:00

Last night marked the first construction milestone: I cut the last check for the concrete work: $1,191.60, bringing the total to approximately $5,950. This was about $350 more than the estimate, but you may recall that I was warned in advance we might go over by 300 – 500 due to the slope of the land. The contractor was Charlie Record (Record Concrete of Chester, VT), and I’d recommend him without hesitation.

What would I do differently on the foundation the next time? Nothing, fortunately, and that surprises me. I’ve heard enough horror stories about contractors that I have to admit I expected to have at least small problems with anyone I hired. The fact that both the concrete and excavating work has been quick, professional and good quality has been encouraging. Of course, the fact that I researched the work up front, asked a million questions, and went in with a good idea of what I wanted probably helped. Here’s where experience as a business analyst and project manager pays off outside of work.

So far, at least.

Next up: Floor framing. After reading up and consulting a number of Internet Joist Span Calculators (including this one), I called Lavalley Building Supply expecting to order 2 x 10 x 16 Douglas Fir joists that I would space at 12” on center. And here’s where one of those pesky assumptions jumped up and bit me:

Salesman: What’s the span?
Me: 16 feet.
Salesman: You sure you want 2 x 10? Most people want 2 x 12 for 16 feet.
Me: The joist calculators I’ve been using say that Douglas fir should be good for 16.
Salesman: Oh – Doug Fir – yeah that would probably work. But we don’t have it – we’ve got spruce.
Me: Uh..

I told him I’d call back. After some research and a few questions, I determined that the framing lumber they had was lumped into a category that some calculators call ‘SPF’ – Spruce / Pine / Fir – which can be either northern (Lavalley’s was from Canada, eh?), or southern. It looked like I could still span 16’ with SPF 2 x 10s, but I was troubled by the comment that ‘most people want 2 x 12 for 16 feet’. The difference in price was about $9.50 vs. $16.50. My options:

1) Put in a beam and lally posts at 8’, and cut my span in half. This would be more work, but would allow me to use smaller joists.
2) Take Lavalley’s advice and go with 2 x 12s, which – according to the span calculators – should be much more than adequate. These would be heavier to work with and more expensive.
3) Take a chance on 2 x 10s, and insert a beam later if they proved inadequate.

What’s at stake? ‘Deflection’, apparently – the amount of flex or ‘sponginess’ in the floor. Apparently, we’re most comfortable with a deflection of about 1/2”; less and the floor is uncomfortably hard, more and there is too much bounce, causing the plates in your hutch to rattle when anyone moves.

In the end, I compromised by going with the 2 x 12s, spacing them 16” on center (which is standard) instead of 12”. This allowed me to reduce the number, saving a little work and minimizing the cost increase. The floor would have probably been fine with 2 x 10s at 12” oc, but the $200 savings wasn’t quite enough to risk it. And who am I to argue with experience?

Delivery is tomorrow, and we'll have about 14 hours to lay the sills, frame the floor, lay the decking, and then cover it with plastic until the next visit. Now the real fun begins!

Countdown to Phase Two

2009-06-09T12:46:00.006-04:00

Once again last week I traded 6 hours in the truck for 1 hour on site. Remember my previous post about assuming nothing? Well I realized after our last trip that I hadn't verified the width of the walls, the size of the cellar hatch opening, the distance from the slab to the beam, etc. So, tape measure in hand, I left the house at 6:30 AM.

At least it was a nice day for a drive - sunny and about 75 - and, being Saturday, relatively light traffic. I arrived on site to find that the Excavator had completed the back-filling, removed the last tree that would block the drilling rig's access to the well site, and cleared the short stretch of brush to the nearest CVPS pole.

God this guy did a nice job. He worked a miracle on my (formerly) sloped property, and left me with a rock retaining wall to support the driveway and a nice rock border on the up-slope side of the driveway that tied into the wall we cut the driveway through. The septic job is his next year if he wants it.

I was surprised to find that the electrician had already put up the board for the temporary power, but disappointed to see that CVPS hadn't yet hooked it up. In a call to CVPS yesterday, they said the weather has been lousy and they hoped to have it in place next week - not good as we're supposed to begin building the floor this weekend. That will add 2 day's rental of a generator to my costs - about $120.

Turned out that the measurements were different from my assumptions, but not enough to have been fatal. No fox sightings this time, but I was visited by a bright yellow bird with black wings that I've never seen in the 'burbs.

Next weekend begins 'Phase Two'. Our goal: Lay down the sills and get the floor framed in preparation for help from my sister's family a the end of June.

The Impending Construction

2009-05-31T16:41:00.010-04:00

Driving to the Home Depot yesterday, I thought I had a revelation: Build the floor, cover it in plastic, and put in the well, and bank the remainder for the septic system after the 'supplemental' test next April. My thinking: The well and septic are the 'big ticket' items; the cabin can be built as money allows. And a site with well, septic and foundation would maximize my resale should I have to sell before being able to build the cabin. On the way home, however, I realized the that what I was really looking to do was find a way to escape the occasionally overwhelming logistics and anxieties that come with building a house, even if it is only a 'cabin'.

Here's the thing: I'm down to about $13,000, and I still have structure, well and cabin to go. The well will likely cost about $5,000, the septic about $6,000, the cabin shell about $10,000, and finishing about $10,000. My usual annual bonus, though modest, would have been a big help, but the recession/depression has ensured that I'm unlikely to see it again until - what? - 2011?

Installing well and septic with the money might ensure the best resale, but we can't envision a scenario in which we'd sell, so who cares? And is it really feasible to build the cabin 'as money allows'? What good is a floor and two walls, or even 4 walls and a loft? And so we come back to the original plan: Build a simple, lockable shell this year, and bank anything left over for septic next year. At least with a shell we have a place to 'camp', even if we're carting in our own water and using a mulching toilet. We've got a place we can use, if only for weekends. And a place we can stay while we're working on the rest.

The LSW has already reported on the foundation sealing work last weekend. (And how she got lost and found herself with a speeding warning while I paced the streets of Saxton's River wondering where the Dickens she was. With no cell service around Shangri-La, I couldn't just call her and ask.) I'm currently waiting for the excavator to let me know that backfilling is complete and the path to the nearest CVPS pole is cleared so I can get temporary power installed. Our hope is to do an overnight on June 13th to both install the sills and attend the meetinghouse fundraiser that Saturday. My sister and her family are planning on camping with us on June 27 to begin the construction proper, so things are going to start moving quick.

To do:

1) Finalize the plans and place an order with the local lumberyard

2) Install the sills

3) Contact the electrician to get temporary power service installed

4) Contact CVPS to let them know the pole can be replaced and temporary power hooked up

5) Make reservations at the local campground for June 27th and July 4th

6) Dig out the camping equipment and see what we're missing (its been a long time since we camped!)

For those of you keeping score, the foundation sealant was a petroleum-based, fibered foundation/roofing tar that came in 5 gallon containers from my local Lowe's for about $35 each. We went to Shangri-La with 20 gallons, but only needed 10 for two coats. Each coat took about 4 hours, and it was a mess despite our best attempts to be careful. Here's a few more pics from the foundation sealing weekend:

PS: The change in management at the Saxton's River Inn has had generally positive results: I felt that the food was just as good, while the LSW thought that it had gone just slightly down-hill. The breakfast offerings - though still limited - were about 50% better, however, so overall we were satisfied that it would remain one of our favorite New England Inns.

What in tarnation?

2009-05-30T14:59:00.003-04:00

LSW here.
Last weekend marked the opening season of Cabin Building 101, as evidenced by this:
That's the warning I got from the kind officer who pulled me over for doing 47 in a 35 m.p.h. zone. This, after a long day of painting tar on the foundation, then getting lost for two hours in God's Country with the Boy who was saying, "I just want dinner!" By the time the officer got to my car door, I was in tears. Anyhow, all turned out well, as evidenced by this:

Two coats of tar on the foundation. Yep. That's me, in the trenches, literally and figuratively. Now the real fun begins. I looked at the calendar today and realized that we will be in Vermont for the next five weekends, only from now on we'll be camping. I'm trying to be very zen about it. Breathe in, breathe out. It's kind of overwhelming. But then I get to thinking of all the times I'll be able to say, "Hey girls, let's ditch the husbands this weekend and go up to Shangri-La," and it suddenly seems all worth it.
The Vermonster will be posting with some real details shortly.

On Foxes and Porches

2009-05-18T19:19:00.003-04:00

Last week the excavator asked me whether or not I wanted him to seal the foundation. With my dwindling bank account in mind, I decided it was time to get some skin in the game. Apparently I would need to break of the form ties with a hammer, fill in the holes with roofing tar, and cover the exterior with sealant up to ground level. Easy enough.

And so it was that I pulled onto the site Sunday morning and was struck by the fact that construction had, in fact, begun. The presence of the foundation transformed the lot and made it, for the first time, very easy to see how our little cabin (and we) would actually inhabit the land. Over the next couple of hours, I found myself again rethinking the design.

We originally wanted the cabin to ‘face’ south, into the land, with a full-width porch that would look down the slope toward the leech field. This presented a couple of problems, though:

1) There would be no ‘face’ to present to the road and driveway. It doesn’t sound like a big deal, but houses always seem more welcoming when they face you as you approach them. A house presenting its back seems to say ‘go away’. (I’m curmudgeonly enough to prefer that most people actually stay away, but it would be nice if the house would welcome me when I arrive.)
2) Given that the south side would not be on a gable end, I had (for a number of reasons), decided that I would need 10’ walls on which to secure the porch roof. It was now apparent, however, that that the foundation would rise 4’ about the ground on the south side given the slope of the land. This would mean 14’ to the cap plates, which was higher than I’d prefer to work, given the 12/12 roof pitch and the fact that I myself am well short of 6’. Furthermore, building the deck would be more complicated as it would range from 4 – 6’ off the ground as the land sloped away.

It occurred to me that I could solve both problems and simplify construction by opting instead for two 12’ porches, one on the east side facing the driveway, and one on the west side letting out from the kitchen. Using the gable ends of the house meant that I could revert to 8’ walls, and both porches would give us better access to the leveled portion of the property that wraps around the north and west of the cabin.

When I look back at my sketches over the last few months, it’s interesting to see that what began as a simple 14x24 box kept growing and becoming more complicated, eventually bulking up to 20x30 and sporting a tower facing the road. Once the actual work began, however, the sketches get smaller and simpler as I begin working out the logistics of actually building the thing.

“We only need something like a hotel room with a kitchenette,” the LSW kept saying. “We can add to it later. And she’s right. The simpler it is, the better chance for success.

I hammered off most of the form ties, which – true to form – took longer than expected, and decided to wait until next weekend on the roofing tar. I still needed to check out 3 local campgrounds, and I wanted to get home in time to relax a little before the work week began again. Just before I left, however, a fox emerged from the woods and we stood for a few minutes looking at each other before he casually trotted back into the underbrush. Probably a common site to the residents of Shangri-La, but rare enough to feel a bit magical to those of us trapped in the ‘burbs. I wonder how the Boy would have reacted?

PS: Interim bill for the foundation work - $1967.50 with the rat slab still to go.

Prelude to a Cabin

2009-05-08T08:35:00.004-04:00

Spent most of last Saturday in the truck, making the 6 hour round-trip to Shangri-la for a final inspection of the site before the trenches are dug for the foundation. It was 'green up VT' day, and everywhere I looked families were picking up roadside garbage (precious little, compared to CT) and stuffing it into green bags. Those who weren't seemed to be fly-fishing in the West River. I love this place.

On site, the leaves were just emerging, as were the bugs. I stayed for about a half hour before the swarm reached critical mass and chased me back into the truck. The excavator did a pretty good job leveling the land; the only change I made was moving the foundation markers 10' to the east to get a clear line of sight from the gable end to the nearest CVPS pole without having to take down a 50' pine.

The Giraffe House

2009-04-29T17:37:00.003-04:00

For those of you keeping score at home, it’s been about 3 weeks since I began the ‘test run’ for the cabin – the so-called ‘giraffe house’. As of today, the shed is about 75% complete, needing only roof shingles, trim, a door, and two windows. The LSW is impressed, and – frankly – so am I. Some thoughts and notes so far:

Getting rained on at least 4 times didn’t seem to negatively impact anything other than the flooring, even though it was exterior grade ply. There’s now a slight warp; I’ll need to try to minimize exposure of the cabin floors to the weather until the roof goes on. I wonder if I can subfloor after the roof is up instead of before building the walls?

I’ve got about 24 hours into it so far, and expect that I have about 16 more to go. With the exception of standing up the walls, I’ve built it myself. Math suggests that 40 hours for 10 x 8 should mean 224 hours for 16 x 28 – 28 days. I want to say that’s low, but my gut says its about right.

Sheathing the walls alone was more difficult than I had anticipated. 4 x 8 sheets of T111 are awkward enough (especially in the wind), but finding a way to position them accurately and tack them in place was a real pain. The solution I settled on involved blocks of wood nailed to the foundation for support and quick-release clamps to hold them in place.

Roof framing isn’t nearly as bad as I expected. I got the rafter cuts right on the first try, and used the first rafter as a template for all of the others. Building temporary supports for ridge beam and then using pocket screws to tack the rafters in place before nailing them made the job fairly painless.

A 28-once framing hammer with a long handle and magnetic nail starter beats the hell out of a 16-once general purpose hammer. Wish I had bought one at the beginning of the job. Blisters are still a problem, though.

Huh. Why am I left with ¾” ply for the roof? Did I put the 7/16” on the floor? Was that what I intended? Note to self: Check the plan before committing the materials in the future.

For sheathing: Thank ye gods for cordless drills and deck screws. I wonder if there is any reason why the whole place couldn’t be assembled with them?

A 12/12 roof pitch is pretty scary, even when you’re only 12’ off the ground. My 16’ ladder isn’t long enough to reach the peak at this angle, so I’m going to need a 24’. Unfortunately, my truck only has a 7’ bed, so I’ll need ladder racks just to get it home (and then to Shangri-La). There goes another $400 in unanticipated expenses. I realize that I could use my 16’ and roof jacks, but there’s something about laying new shingles and then poking nail holes through them that bothers me. Roof sheathing and covering is a job that I hope to sub out if possible, especially as I plan to go with a metal roof.

Because of The Boy, I’m hyper-cautious about unplugging power tools any time I’m not using them. I find myself looking around the construction site trying to imagine what could hurt him even when he’s not around. Part of the fun of being a father, I suppose. Or maybe just of being type-A.

After working on it on Sunday, it occurred to me that lodging and food will be another unanticipated building expense unless we decide to camp on the property. The shed isn't very big , but the 3 of us could have lived in it while building the cabin. Why didn’t I do this test run in VT rather than here?

Concrete Plans

2009-04-27T10:37:00.008-04:00

My excavator called me last night from Orlando to let me know that the site had been graded if I wanted to take a final look before the foundation trenches were dug. I was impressed that he’d take time out from his vacation update me – my experience with contractors being more on the give-them-a-deposit-pray-they-get-around-to-it-this-year end of the spectrum.

When I met with him and the concrete guy 2 Saturdays ago, it was agreed that the foundation could go in right after May 15th – the date they lift the mud season heavy load restriction on Shangri-La’s roads. (The town only has 2 paved roads – the only two that don’t dead-end – and even they have dirt sections.) The concrete work would take 3 days, and a week or two to cure after that, setting my start date in early June.

That Saturday was also the first time the project began to feel a little intimidating. Standing in the center of this denuded patch of forest I was struck that I would have to actually construct a building here – possibly by myself – before the first frost. It suddenly seemed a tall order.

A few random notes from the last two weeks:

The cabin plans have always called for a porch, and it occurred to me that the right time to pour the footings is while the foundation is being done. My plans call for 5 piers for the front porch, and 2 piers for the back; the excavator agreed to do the work on a per hour basis – at $45, expecting about a ½ day’s work. He also agreed to pick up the sonitubes and footing forms. The concrete guy expected to have enough concrete in the truck to pour them, so he thought the charge would be minimal if anything at all. I may not build the porches this year, but at least we’ll be ready for them.

I met with the CVPS guy on the same day, and we talked about plans for underground service to the house. Turns out that the $35/foot I quoted here was specifically for underground service. If I went overhead, the charge would be less, involving only wire, the weather head and the meter – no pole needed if the gable end of the house was less than 125’ from the pole. (I should just squeak by on that one.) This option does mean that I’ll need temporary power, however, which will be an $80 setup charge plus the cost of an electrician.

The excavator noted that he saved the stone from the wall so he could put it back in place once the width and location of the driveway had been finalized. This wasn’t something I expected, and one more reason why I’d recommend this guy to anyone. Not only was he less expensive than the others, but he seems to take a lot of pride in his work. And a hell of a nice guy.

The concrete guy had quoted me about 5,200 over the phone based upon a level site. He spent almost an hour brainstorming with the excavator on how they could carve a roughly level area out of the 15% slope we had to work with. In the end, he noted that the price could go up by a couple hundred dollars if the forms need to be stepped. This was still significantly cheaper than the next bid, so I’m not concerned.

With the land cleared, we’re now in clear view of the neighbors across the street. Not terrible, but I preferred the out-in-the-woods feeling. We’ll need to do some landscaping eventually the reclaim some of the privacy. On the other hand, the new sight lines should deter any vandalism, so I’ll have to think about this.

Financial tally: $1,000 to the excavator for the balance of the land clearing, and $1,000 deposit on the grading and excavating. Last week I got the formal proposal from the concrete guy, and cut another check for half of the foundation work - $2,600.

Carpe Cabin

2009-04-26T18:35:00.003-04:00

LSW here.

The Vermonster will readily admit that he's Type A. He's a leader, a strong personality, he feels the need to control things.

But he's not as bad as he makes himself out to be. Over the years, my decidedly un-Type A family has beat him down, so now he's able to go-with-the-flow. Sometimes.

But recently, when the stock market started plunging, he, to put it simply, freaked.

"Should we? Shouldn't we? Withdraw our 401k? Take a loan? Buy the property and just let it sit? Build immediately?" There were many questions and I know they were keeping him up at night.

Me, well, it's not that I don't worry. It's just that I'm good at denial.

So when we decided to go for it-- to do this project without a loan from anyone-- I found that quiet place inside of me (the one fueled by a big glass of wine at the end of the day) and decided that yes, I would be all right with this.

Throughout the process thus far, I've been okay. I've tried to participate in decision-making, I've tried to be excited about the possibilities. I've really made an effort to be excited rather than totally freaked that we might be pissing away our retirement. But last week something happened that has made me realize that, hell yeah, we are totally doing the right thing.

A friend died of a heart attack. A 39-year-old friend. Yeah, scary shizz. After many days of deep introspection, I've come to realize that I want to live my life doing the things I think will be fun, because you just never, ever know when your time is gonna be up. More importantly, I want to pass this mindset onto my son. He will be three years old in just a few weeks. Some of his first memories will be of us building a cabin in "Mont," as he calls it. He'll climb trees and find bugs and go snowmobiling and do all sorts of outdoorsy boy things at the cabin that he won't be able to do here in the 'burbs. As he grows older, he'll probably hate going up there, and then the time will come when he'll want to go up there to party with his friends. And you know what? It'll be worth it. It'll be worth giving the finger to the stock market and 401ks and mutual funds. It'll be worth every single dime to be able to say, "Let's go up to 'Mont for the weekend."

(P.S. The Giraffe House is almost finished! Look at my boys!)

Wow.

2009-04-23T19:28:00.002-04:00

Almost a month ago I spent the day in what felt like the middle of woods peering through the trees trying to see the 4 markers that defined my modest, 16 x 28 cabin. To get to the site, I had to park at the meetinghouse, climb over the stone wall, and trudge through the brush.

What a difference a few weeks makes. Last Saturday I arrived at 9 am and was able to drive right onto the cabin site and walk unimpeded over a little less than a quarter of an acre of gently sloping moonscape. It was exciting and intimidating all at once; suddenly it really felt like the project was underway.

I'd like to give you a picture right here, but, unfortunately, I forgot the camera. Sorry.

The Meetinghouse

2009-04-14T18:23:00.006-04:00

I noted earlier that the painfully picturesque 'Old Meetinghouse' sealed the deal for the LSW. Situated across from our slice o' heaven and unchanged since it was erected in 1817, it provides the quintessential backdrop to our [anticipated] repose in the Green Mountain State.

What could a little town like Shangri-La (yes, I know I've been spelling it sometimes with an 'a' and sometimes with an 'i' - what of it?) have planned for an old building with no septic or electricity on a dirt road arguably in the middle of nowhere? Nothing, we figured, until we saw on the last visit that the second floor windows had been replaced by plywood.

I put the question to one of the excavators, who - as it happens - is also one of the town's 3 selectman and it's road commissioner. Turns out the selectmen hold a town meeting in it once per year, and the town is planning on investing in foundation work to ensure that the the building can stand for at least another 100 years. "It's on the historic register," he noted, "and we'd like to keep it just the way it is." The windows are missing because the woodworker at the top of my street is repairing the 192-year-old muntins and glazing.

In talking with him, I also found out that the town hall was a one-room schoolhouse until not that long ago, with the original chalk boards still hanging in the first floor. The town also has plans to restore it in a historically sympathetic fashion, carefully planning the handicap access to be invisible from the front. This from a town with ridiculously low taxes and nothing that could be described as gentrification. A town with only 2 paved roads, for that matter.

This warms my preservationist heart. Good for them! Or us, as it were. Our past anchors us as we look to the future, and it's hard to overestimate the value of being grounded.

And We're Off!

2009-04-11T12:12:00.004-04:00

The bids have been rolling in over the last 2 weeks. Here’s the score:

Land Clearing:

Way back in November, I got a land-clearing estimate of $3,500 to $5,000 per acre via phone, but didn’t actually meet anyone on-site until 2 Saturdays ago. Over the course of an afternoon, I met with 3 excavators and gained the following info:

3 of the 40 – 60’ pine trees near the foundation should be pulled down or I’ll risk obliterating The Dream during a wind or ice storm. A 30’ pine fallen over the well site since the last visit was all the evidence I needed.

Most of the remaining trees were small (less than 8” in diameter, and would be pretty easy to clear.

The land is sloped at 15-20 degrees, and it will have to be cut back significantly to ensure the water drains away from the foundation.

The grading of the driveway will need to be continued to the well site so the drilling rig can get to it and level itself. The land can be returned to it’s original slope after drilling is done.

One of the contractors lived in the neighborhood, and he suggested a small culvert to channel water under the driveway where is meets the road. “There’s a lot of run off on this road during a storm.”

Another contractor noted that I might need a ‘cut approval’ from the down to join the driveway to the road. A quick check with the road commissioner confirmed that there was no such requirement in Shangri-La. This place is a libertarian paradise.

If the stumps can be buried on the property, it will be cheaper. As soon as they leave the property, they become garbage and must be disposed ‘appropriately’ – which will cost.

Final finishing of the driveway should wait until both the foundation and septic work is done, due to the size of the equipment that will be on the property. Until then , the drive can be surface with rough stone.

Estimates? Low of $2,000 from the neighbor, mid of $2,810, and high of $4,500 (from someone who obviously thinks that ‘from Connecticut’ means monied and stupid). All estimates included the crushed stone for the driveway.

The neighbor - who does excavating as a second business - got the job last Wednesday, and the land was cleared by Sunday. We’re heading back up next weekend to see the work and settle up.

Excavating:

I didn’t realize when I started this that excavating and foundation-pouring were separate activities, but apparently they are. The concrete guys I talked to all had excavators they work with. Consequently, I had no line item in the budget for excavating. Oops. The same guys bidding on the land clearing also bid on the excavating, and the scores were similar: $2,000 from the neighbor, a little more from the middle guy, and another $4,500 for the one who mistakes me for a [former] derivatives broker. All included trenches for the forms, preparation for the rat slab, installation of foundation drainage pipe, installation of pipe/conduit for power and septic (to 10’ beyond the foundation), and backfilling.

I’m planning on giving the job to the neighbor, but I’ll wait until I see his land clearing work next weekend.

Foundation:

The foundation is going to be a simple 16’ x 28’ crawlspace with a “rat slab”. The footings will be laid at 4’ below grade (to prevent frost-heave), and will be topped with 8” wide walls. There will be two vents and a 4’ access opening. All concrete will be rated at 3,000 lbs, and the work will take 3 days.

In this case, the low bid also came from my neighbor: $2,200. This from a contact of his in the neighboring town who does concrete work ‘on the side’. This sounded good until the next two estimates came in: $5,160 and $5,800. Some further research revealed the concrete cost alone to be about 2,100, never mind the rebar, bolts, oil for the forms, labor, and rat slab mesh. Suddenly the low guy was suspect, and I reverted to a piece of advice I’ve heard over and over again: Be cautious of the lowest and highest bids. Today I confirmed with the $5,160 guy, who also agreed to throw in the concrete for 7 frost-line piers for a deck, given that there will probably be more on the truck than he’ll actually need.

Total anticipated bill for land clearing and foundation: $9,160 – about $4,000 more than I budgeted for. Say it with me: Twice as expensive as you expected, and three times as long.

Off Topic: The Author Pretends to be a Writer

2009-04-09T06:25:00.007-04:00

Occasionally I'm hit with a jolt of creativity and find myself beginning what I imagine will turn into a novel. Because my muse invariably skips town after about 20 pages, I'm always coming across a forgotten file or notebook containing the beginning to a story that I only remember as mine after 3 or 4 pages. I ran across one such start last night, and I'm posting it because it captures some of the mid-life restlessness that let to the cabin adventure in the first place.

****

It began on a commuter train from the “gold cost” of Connecticut to New York City. As usual, I boarded the train in Stratford and slowly made my way to the last vestibule in the last car. I had begun doing this after the terrorist attacks in the US, London and Spain, figuring that the evildoers were more likely to set off bombs in the front of the train to maximize the damage. What can I say – I’m a whacko. I made a habit of standing in the vestibule rather than finding a seat for two reasons: 1) The rush hour trains were always packed, and I didn’t want to be stuck next to Tony Two-Ton and his breakfast burrito, and 2) it was easier to watch the scenery go by standing by the doors. Not that the scenery changed much day-to-day, but it seemed the best of my limited and mind-numbing commuting options. And besides, the seats are so uncomfortable, wrapped in a frictionless vinyl and canted so you couldn’t help but sliding into a ridiculous slouch until your knees hit the hard plastic back of the seat in front of you. In that position it was impossible to read the paper, drink a coffee, or even comfortably listen to an iPod. I hope the designers spend eternity confined to these seats in hell. The head of the Connecticut Department of Transportation, too, for running these tired old heaps for over 20 years beyond their ‘sell by’ date.

I’m semi-conscious, thanks mostly to the coffee, and on auto-pilot for the first 5 stops: Bridgeport, Fairfield, Southport, Greens Farms, Westport and East Norwalk. Then, after we pull away from South Norwalk I see something I haven’t seen since high school: A ‘punk’. He enters the last car behind an anorexicly thin business man from the car before, looking for a seat. When the Thin Man takes the last one, he skulks to the vestibule and takes the pace immediately opposite me, dropping to the floor in a sprawled seating position that is bound to trip anyone trying to board at the next 4 stops before we express to Manhattan. I immediately tense up imagining the reaction of these commuters, the glaring looks and the inevitable confrontation. I am also immediately aware of his legs and my feet, afraid that they are inadvertently going to make contact and he’ll want to clock me for it.

He doesn’t seem particularly confrontational, though, and immediately digs into his bag for a couple of donuts and a coffee purchased before boarding. Now I’m thinking, wow – what a normal breakfast, as if he were somehow alien and should be eating babies or a two-headed eel or something. He pushes the tab back on the coffee lid and gingerly takes a sip, careful not to burn his tongue. Pussy, I think. As he digs into his donut, I realize that I’m staring at him, fascinated by this fresh sight of a once tired cliché: Jack Boots, leather pants with too many zippers, black Sex-Pistols tank top, nose and ear piercing, artificially black, spiky hair, tattoos on the neck and arms. He is a violent, stark contrast to the conservatively dressed workaday Joes and Janes sharing the car. I am struck by the understanding that this effect is what the first punks were reaching for, before they became a style: A jarring and confrontational contrast to conformity. There is no one else on the car that looks anything like him, and a few people who look nervous about him.

Cool, I think. Good for you. And the odd thing is that his face is almost angelic, very much at peace, striking such an odd contrast to his costume. Is that what it is? Some sort of joke? Biff the preppy going to a dress up day at Darien Academy? No – the tattoos look real. There is a snake spiraling up his right arm, coiled from the wrist to the top of the shoulder. On the neck and left arm are a series of geometric patterns and what looks like a band logo, although I don’t recognize the name. At one point he looks to the right and I see that he has a bright red heart just below his left ear. It seems out of place with everything else about his appearance, and I immediately wonder why he got it. At the Darien stop, he seems to barely notice when the doors open and a handful of people step over him to get in. He makes no concession to them, but continues to sip his coffee and stare at the floor. A few people cluck disapprovingly, and one mutters “asshole”. He looks up and mumbles “sorry” – seemingly sincerely, and then “fuckers” after everyone is out of ear shot.

I am fascinated by this. I am fascinated by his outrageous appearance and his lack of concern for the opinions around him. I am fascinated by his tattoos and the juxtaposition of the soft face and the “sorry”. I am nothing like this. Suddenly, 20 years too late, I want to be like this – whatever this is. I spend the rest of the trip to grand central fantasizing about shaving off my hair, getting a tattoo, wearing ratty clothes, and telling everyone to fuck off simply because they were breathing my air. By the time we reach 125th street station, I am convinced that I am going to transform myself – maybe during my lunch break that very day! I’m going to come back from lunch long enough to shock my boss and tell my coworkers that they could have their grim drudgery and daily grind – me, I’m freeing myself from this pale shadow of a life. So long, suckers! And I’d be laughing my way out the front doors without so much as a backward glance, my middle finger raised in defiant victory on the way.

By lunchtime, my enthusiasm for a grand gesture had been sapped by an inbox of 120 e-mails and 4 seemingly pointless meetings, all of which managed to cover well-trodden ground while arriving at no new destinations. My favorite seemingly endless discussion centers around a software upgrade project for which we have no resources and to which no one outside the IT shop seemed committed. The meeting minutes could all read as follows:

1) We want to do the upgrade, who have we got?
2) No one – we’re already over-committed to existing projects and over-budget in supplemental resources
3) Let’s schedule another meeting next week to discuss options

We’ve repeated these meetings each week for the past 2 months, looking for a miracle that would allow us to squeeze productivity blood from and overworked and over-committed stone. We can’t, but my manager just won’t let it go. The software is in my 'application portfolio', and I can’t help but see the storm clouds brewing on the horizon. The fascinating thing about this process is that we actually had a pretty tight deadline when we began, and we’ve now squandered a month of that time in a group circle-jerk over how to begin. When our miracle arrives we’ll need a fresh one to meet the new time frame and the meetings will begin again. Only this time, they’ll have a different character:

Me: We no longer have adequate time to accomplish the work, what should we do?
My Manager: This upgrade is your responsibility – figure it out.

I’m not sure why this still bothers me - I’ve seen this pattern repeat for as many years as I’ve been here. On the macro level we have ‘the circle of life’; at the corporate level it is ‘the circle of business’. I keep telling myself that they are paying me good money to dance the same, tired dance over and over again, so why not keep them amused? A year prior, I had thought that I could ‘affect change’ by stepping into management, but it turns out the same patterns repeat one level above you until you are at the top, in which case you’re dancing for the board, who are dancing for the stockholders, all of whom likely have someone they are dancing for. The whole world is lost in a wild ecstasy of dancing, spinning and twisting to the hypnotic strains of unbridled commerce! You’d think it would be more fun.

Preoccupied as I was with planning for my exit strategy from the project – that is, who to throw under the bus when it fails – my dreams of sticking to the man becoming sticking it to a man - my grand gesture of defiance had been reduced to opting for a hunk of white – rather than wheat – bread to go with my a cup of tepid split pea soup from the cafeteria. For the next couple of weeks, though, the memory of this punk and my reaction to him would lurk on the fringes of my consciousness, occasionally popping up when I least expected it. And then one day, a few weeks later, I found myself at a tattoo parlor on the way to the hardware store.

****

There's more, but you get the gist. Maybe a quiet cabin in the woods will provide just the right environment to finish it some day...

Have You Seen Our Giraffe House?

2009-04-06T14:17:00.003-04:00

LSW here. Let me just state for the record that of all the sucky things in the world, being woken up early on a Sunday morning after a late evening of boozing by the bang, bang, banging of a hammer rates pretty high up there. What's even worse is when you realize that the banging is coming from your backyard and you know that it's just a matter of minutes before you'll be asked to "throw on some sweats" and come help. Not the best hangover cure, I assure you.
In any case, the Vermonster had assembled one side of our garden shed/writer's retreat/test cabin and needed some help lifting it up. Voila! Now, I readily admit that I have no sense of spatial relations, and the headache didn't help much, but part of me wondered why the shed seemed so ... tall. I wasn't going to say anything, but then the neighbor walked over sipping his coffee and said, "Hey, why's it so tall?"
Ruh-oh.
I'll let the Vermonster explain his reasoning behind that. I will say, though, that I'm quite proud of his workmanship so far. I can actually see this turning into something usable! Maybe even cute!

[Vermonter Replies: No particular reason for the height except that I forgot to consider how a relatively standard 7'9" wall would look on something only 10' wide. Oops.]

SWAGing CVPS

2009-03-31T06:38:00.006-04:00

In the corporate world, if you have to estimate something but really have no idea, you put a figure on paper and let everyone know that it’s a ‘SWAG’. That is, a ‘Silly, Wild-Assed Guess’. In cobbling together an estimated budget for The Dream, I did the same thing in a couple of areas – one of them being getting power to the cabin. $500 should cover it, I thought; $750 at the most.

Wrong.

Discussions with the good folks at Central Vermont Public Service Corp (and they really were a pleasure to talk with) yielded a revised figure of about $35/foot. The good news is that I’ve got that power company right-of-way on the property; the bad news is that I’ve still got about 110 feet from the closest pole to the cabin site. Anyone? Anyone? That’s right: $3,500 – almost 5 times what I anticipated.

Ouch.

The way I see it, my other option is a generator for construction – $750 to $1,500 – followed by solar power for the well pump and house for as little as $750 - $2,000. The solar-powered well pump is low-flow, however, and will require a holding tank at a higher elevation than the house, so the overall cost is likely to exceed the CVSC hookup fee. To be fair, I suppose we could also go with hand tools and a manual pump for the well, but I’m not sure we’re willing to ‘get back to the land’ quite that far.

I was told that the CVPS estimate was free, so I’ve opened a work order and hope to meet with a rep in a couple of weeks to get the ‘official rough estimate’. The excavator opined that sending the line underground would probably be about the same price once you factor in the additional pole and tree clearing that will likely be necessary. If I go with this option, CVSC suggested that I send the power through the foundation and have an electrician hook up the meter on a temporary board with some outlets rather than using a pole on the edge of the job site. This will save me about $80 as I won’t need the company to move the power line to the house later, and we all know that $80 saved is $80 earned.

Fortunately, this was the last SWAG I had in the budget. In the future, I’ll be blaming my low numbers on ‘the optimism factor’.

Spring Fever

2009-03-30T10:29:00.020-04:00

Lured by the Saxtons River Inn's 2-for-1 offer through March 31, we packed up the car and headed for Shangri-La this last weekend. Me, the LSW and The Boy were joined by The Niece (who has been crashing at our place over the last year while attending a local college) and the LSW's sister, who was looking for an excuse to spend a few days exploring a new place and sleeping late. My goal was to meet with 3 excavating and concrete contractors to get the ball rolling on The Dream.

But first things first: The food.

Dinner at the Saxtons River Inn is still outstanding - especially the crispy onion rings, fish and fries. The LSW and her sister were united on the virtues of the pulled pork and the burger, respectively, but The Niece apparently prefers soggy french fries to crispy ones, so she was less enthused.

Unfortunately, the Inn falls short in the breakfast category - providing only coffee, apple juice, store danish, apples and oranges. Luckily, The Golden Egg is only a block away and offers the second-best breakfast in New England (the first being King's in Newtown, CT). I recommend the Vermonter Skillet if you're going, or perhaps the blueberry crepes. The breakfast sandwich was also good, but the fact that they don't offer it with Vermont cheddar is almost unforgivable.

On Saturday evening, we descended upon the Putney Diner to sample their pies on the recommendation of Mr and Mrs Chops. In the spirit of adventure, I ordered a Reuben for the first time in my life. Good choice, that; I've got a new favorite sandwich. The cole slaw was fresh and the pickles agreeably sour, but the fries were soggy, to my dismay and The Niece's delight. The 4 of us split 3 slices of pie at the end of the meal - Apple, Chocolate Cream and Maple Walnut. The verdict: The apple wasn't as good as the LSW's, but the Maple Walnut and Chocolate Cream were worth the trip.

The LSW will be reporting on the handmade chocolates she tracked down in Walpole, NH here. Ye gods, they are good! And then there was 'Smokin' Bowls' on 123 between Bellows Falls and Chester:

Does this look good or what? We ordered the 'Brownie of the day'; tasty but - unfortunately - strictly legal.

Now, down to business:

As I noted, the reason for the trip was to get land clearing, excavating, and foundation estimates. To that end, I spent all of Friday afternoon and part of Saturday morning on site, taking time to walk the property and clearing some of the underbrush between appointments. The weather was in the mid-50's and the sun shining, and I spent most of the day in a T-shirt. Nice.

I started by locating the engineer's markers, which was a little challenging as a fallen pine took out the well marker. Once I found it, I was able to triangulate the planned position of the cabin and mark it with orange poles. The slope of the land seemed to lend itself to a walk-out basement, and before I knew it I was getting estimates on one at 28 x 32 in addition to my less ambitious 16 x 28 crawl space.

I talked with 6 contractors in total. Some things I learned:

When the land it cleared the excavator will expect to take away any salvageable wood. If you choose to keep it, the cost of the work will go up.

The cost of land-clearing will go down if the stumps can be buried on the property. Brush will be burned if weather conditions permit, or chipped if not.

Excavation will include digging the holes for the footings, leveling and prepping the floor for the rat slab, laying the drainage pipe, and back-filling and grading when the work is done.

The excavator can also be expected to rough-in the septic pipe and a 4" PVC conduit for the well. He/She should also run both pipes 10' beyond the foundation to make sure you're not trying to dig into the stone that will be laid down over the drainage pipes.

Well-drilling rigs require a roughly level surface and wide access to the well site.

The driveway should only be roughed-in until the foundation is done. After that, it should be at least sub-surfaced until all of the work on the site is finished.

Excavation and Land-Clearing estimates can vary significantly. Mine ran from a low of $4,000 to a high of $9,000.

Pouring the foundation will need to wait until at least mid-May, when the prohibition against heavy trucks on most unpaved roads during 'mud season' is lifted.

It will take 3 days to pour the foundation, and about a week for it to cure. Once it is in, the building needs to go up before winter to protect it.

Foundation estimates seem to vary less than excavating. For a 16 x 28 frost-wall foundation including a rat slab, I'm apparently looking at between $5,000 - 6,000.

(A 'rat slab, by the way, is 4" of concrete poured inside the foundation to keep out the critters and make working under the house more tolerable.)

The 'official' estimates are all expected before the end of this week, so I anticipate we'll be underway within a month. The first step will be land clearing, which is expected to take about 2-days, as most of the trees on the site are relatively small.

Here's a shot of the building site:

The view behind the future cabin:

In this shot the two large boulders mark the future driveway:

Incidentally, the major lesson learned on this trip was that a Hyundai Sonata is not the best vehicle with which to sample dirt-surfaced mountain passes during mud season. I see a Subaru in the LSW's future...

The Writer's Cabin...Uh, I mean Gardening Shed

2009-03-26T08:13:00.020-04:00

LSW here. This is what I woke up to on Saturday:

1) An old lady knocking on my door, newspaper in hand, pointing at a classified ad. "Where's the tag sale?" she demanded. After I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and focused, I saw that there was an ad for a tag sale at Same-Number-House-Similarly-Named-Street. After explaining (quite firmly) that no, there really wasn't a tag sale here, she left grumbling as another car pulled up. Clearly I was going to have to post a sign: "NO tag sale here!"

2) As she left, I couldn't help but spy the ginormous stack of lumber in the driveway and this in the backyard:

Hmmm.

To be fair, the Vermonster had come home the night before and divulged his latest scheme: build a garden shed in the backyard as a test-run for the cabin.

I think he expected me to balk at the idea, but frankly I thought it was a great idea, as long as I didn't have to do anything.

I've got to give the Vermonster credit: he has the stamina of a work horse. He was out there from 7 a.m. til 5 p.m., hammering, measuring, measuring, measuring, taking notes. I'll leave all the technical stuff to him; all I can say is I now I have a perfectly level rectangle in my backyard that's just waiting for some walls and windows and such. It's a start.

Meanwhile, I thought for sure that someone searching for the tag sale would think they'd stumbled upon some free lumber, so we eventually moved it into the garage.

I know the plan is that this is supposed to be our gardening shed, but I'm thinking it would make an awful nice Room of One's Own. We'll see how much sway I have in this relationship.

The Incredible Shrinking Cabin

2009-03-25T11:41:00.006-04:00

Once upon a time, restoring old British cars – usually MGBs – was my diversion of choice. The LSW endured a parade of clunkers for which I tried to combine concourse-quality restoration plans and a shoe-string budget. While almost 50% of these projects resulted in something that could be ~~safely~~ driven, all of them reinforced something I grew up hearing about projects in general:

It will take twice as long as expected, and cost 3 times as much.
And so I’m finding as the estimates begin rolling in:

16 x 28 frost-line crawl-space foundation with a ‘rat-slab’: $5,000 (rats and excavating not included)
Power: Needs to be estimated, but I’ve heard stories of $2,000 - $4,000
Septic (as currently proposed): $10,000 - $13,000
Well: $5,000 - $7,500
Land Clearing: $2,000 - $3,000 per acre

With each new piece of information, the cabin in my imagination gets a little more modest. The kit becomes DIY stick-framing, 20x30 shrinks to 16x28, the full-size kitchen becomes a stove, sink and under-counter refrigerator, CVSC power becomes a solar panel, and indoor plumbing becomes (at least at first) a mulching toilet and 5-gallon water containers. In short, the “cabin” really does become a cabin. *sigh*

I have mixed feelings about this process of ‘right-sizing’ my expectations. To be brutally honest, I like the idea of having the kind of ‘camp’ that makes friends, relations, and neighbors envious. It’s a side of me I don’t care for, but can’t deny. There’s another side, though, that is attracted to the idea of a small, off-the-grid, minimal maintenance getaway that provides the experience of being mostly outdoors and close to nature. And one that bucks most to the materialistic pretensions we’ve been awash in over the last decade.

The interesting thing is that, while many of our friends were upgrading locations and square footage over the last decade, we’ve willingly (even enthusiastically) embraced smaller, older homes. Our current house - built in 1940 and clocking in at just less than 1,800 square feet - is the biggest – and newest – we’ve ever had. With its original kitchen, windows and [lack of] insulation, I’m confident that it inspires very little envy in our friends, relations and neighbors. So why would I care what they think of our little shack in the woods? Not that they’ll have an opportunity to form an opinion; it’s now grown too small for visitors.

I still occasionally surf the real estate adds for Vermont for ‘turn-key’ properties, wondering if I shouldn’t use the project budget as a down payment. But here’s what keeps me on the straight-and-narrow: I want to own the property and anything on it outright. And if that means a shipping container with a window, at least we’ll never have to worry about seeing ‘foreclosed on it’.

Adventures in Building

2009-03-24T18:36:00.004-04:00

Now that we’re no longer waiting for an additional septic test, I've been agonizing over cabin options: I want something that will go up quickly and easily, but I know that I could do it the hard way for about half the price. And with a budget of less than $30k, that 50% differential will likely determine whether our water will come from a well or rain barrel.

I'm confident that I can build the place myself. From car engines rebuilding to Windsor chairs making, custom trim work to guitar playing, I haven’t yet found a project that I couldn’t tackle if I set my mind to it. But how can I convince the LSW that my optimism isn’t misplaced? And – to be honest – prove to myself that I’m not underestimating the work?

The answer came to me as I passed thought the only tunnel in New England (so I'm told) on my way home from work last Friday: Build a gardening shed in the back yard. Armed with this one construction stone, I could kill the following birds:

The LSW gets a modicum of assurance
I get practice in framing
We get a gardening shed
The current gardening shed (the garage) can be liberated for cabin supply storage
I can gauge current lumber prices to refine my budget
I can get an idea of what is likely to be tricky, and where help will be needed

I hated to take the money out of the cabin fund, but the LSW agreed that it seemed a prudent investment.

And so it was that I spent the weekend buying materials, leveling the site, and constructing the floor framing for an 8 x 10 gable-ended shed. Materials included:

(6) Cinder blocks
(4) 2 x 10 x 12 PT (10’ lengths weren’t available)
(30) 2 x 4 x 8
(8) 2 x 6 x 8
(4) 2 x 4 x 10
(3) 5/8 floor sheathing
(3) ½ roof sheathing
(10) T-111 siding
(2) Packages of roofing shingle
(1) Package of 6 mil poly film
(1) Roll roofing felt
Galvanized Nails and deck screws, various sizes
(2) Saw blades

The total cost was $1,100, which didn’t include window and door (both of which I will build myself) and trim (which will come from leftover white pine 1x stock I have in the basement). I consoled myself with the fact that a manufactured shed of the same size would cost at least a third more.

And what did I learn from day 1?

Purchasing materials can easily take an entire day
No matter how carefully you plan, there will be return trips to the lumber yard and/or the local home warehouse
White pine shiplap isn’t always available, and cedar shiplap is a very, very expensive alternative
T-111 siding becomes more attractive when you understand how (relatively) cheap it is
Leveling and preparing the site will take at least another half-day
Sandwiched beams of 2x10 PT can get heavy very quickly
Computer work does not adequately prepare your hands (or muscles) for a day of hammering and lifting
Slicing your thumb open on a joist hanger is infinitely more distracting when you discover that your wife has locked you out of the house while running errands
Thinking you can have the floor AND walls framed in a single day is wildly optimistic
Dogfish Head IPA tastes best when enjoyed after 10 hours of manual labor
If you think you’re sore at the end of day 1, wait until the morning of day 2

The lesson of day 2 was that multiple blisters on your hammering hand combined with very stiff muscles will necessitate taking the day off.
Stay tuned.

This Blogging Business...

2009-03-23T21:30:00.002-04:00

The LSW - who has a moderately successful blog here - keeps giving me advice on how to attract people to this one. Most important, she says, it to post frequently. Daily, if possible.

It's not.

Between working full time, commuting 100 miles per day, learning guitar, working on the house and 'nurturing social connections' there just aren't enough hours in the week.

And then there is the 8x10 garden shed that I've begun constructing in the back yard to prove to the LSW (and myself, frankly), that building my own place in the woods is a possibility. More on this to come, but right now I've got to go soak myself in Bengay and tend the blisters on my hands...

Options, options...

2009-03-18T21:06:00.001-04:00

Two more interesting options for a prefab cabin:

Panel Concepts has a number of 'panelized' cabin kits from 12' x 12' bare-bones shells to 20' x 40' insulated and partitioned units. Pro: Whatever you think of the faux log cabin siding, the reported assembly time is one of the lowest I've seen. Con: The nearest distributor with an assembled sample is 5 hours away in upstate New York.

Zook Cabins builds and delivers completed cabins from 12' x 18' to 22' x 48' to your [future] doorstep, taking the 'you' out of DIY. Throw a little more money at them and they'll install a bathroom and custom kitchen for you. Pro: Very competitively priced, can combine trip to the factory with a weekend at Sesame Place for The Boy. Con: I'm always suspicious when a manufacturer claims 'Amish Craftsmanship' on a product that no Amish would ever buy.

Another interesting option came at the suggestion of the LSW: Craig's List. Sure enough, there were a number of barns and antique post-and-beam frames for sale, and even a listing for historic Appalachian log cabins ready to be reassembled on your site (banjo not included).

On your mark, get set ... nope.

2009-03-16T20:48:00.006-04:00

LSW here. If the Vermonster is a classic Type A personality, then I'm the poster child for Type Z. He plans our budget down to the last dime ("Twelve cents of each paycheck will be allocated toward the fund for next year's Girl Scout cookie orders"), while my idea of budgeting is to get a statement at the ATM every few weeks to make sure I'm not overdrawn.

However, in some respects, I'm very rigid. When The Boy was first born, I maintained a very regular schedule, which I believe is one reason that he sleeps so well at night. (That, and the fact that he takes after my side of the family in that respect; we loves us some sheep counting.) And in my professional life as a writer, deadlines are set in stone. There's no eleventh hour for me.

So today, when I heard the tale of woe about the septic test, my brain fritzed just a little. Up until this point, our mantra was, "It all depends on the septic test." That's what gave me structure; it made this crazy, chaotic adventure just a little more defined.

But now we don't have that, and I'm afraid of what this will do to the Vermonster.

We needed a definite starting point. Now we don't have one. We could build a cabin tomorrow-- or not. We could decide to clear the land and put in a well-- or not. We could do whatever we want. If only we knew that was.

I know it'll all work out in the end, but in the meantime, I'm afraid the stress levels just moved up a notch. Because nothing depends on the septic test.

The Dangers of Assumptions

2009-03-16T16:13:00.006-04:00

In my professional life, I'm always on the lookout for assumptions, whether my own or my customers'. I ask every question at least 3 different ways, factor professional backgrounds and personalities into my information gathering techniques, and get everything I think I've heard validated. In my personal life, apparently, not so much.

When the environmental engineer told me in November that we'd need a mound system, we talked about additional testing he could do to determine if a cheaper conventional system could still be an option. He explained that the testing would take place in the spring, and we'd be looking for primarily for the water level in April, when the runoff from the snowmelt peaked. He told me to call him early in the year to set something up.

What he meant: The test is from March 1 to May 31, with April likely to be the best indicator of the height of the water table. Call me in January.

What I heard: We need to test in April, call me in March.

And so, based upon sloppy questions and incorrect assumptions, I called him today only to find that we're too late and won't be able to test now until next year unless I can credibly claim 'hardship' to the State of Vermont. 'Yuppy too impatient to wait for his trophy home in the woods' probably doesn't qualify, so I'm SOL. Sux.

Lesson learned? Just because I'm off the clock doesn't mean I should leave everything at the office.

We've been telling ourselves that the second septic test will determine how we move forward, but now we're stalled a full year if we do so. Looking for options, I was able to confirm that the location of the house and the well won't change due to the size and topography of the property, so we could start with them. And in doing so, the only safe assumption is that the current worst-case septic plan will hold. Ugh.

Updating the Numbers

2009-03-12T17:19:00.005-04:00

Confession time: Before I joined the glamorous and fast-paced world of business analysis, I was a cost accountant. Now I know what those of you who know me are thinking:

"Say what?? How could an anal-retentive type-A personality have ever found succor in the shoes of a beancounter??"

To which I reply, "Succor?"

But it's true. Beans I counted, for nearly a decade. And though I've long since hung up my transparent green visor, I still love doing budgets and assigning expenses to categories. And so I don my visor again in updating this folly's expenses for the closing, to wit:

Attorney's Fees: $750

Title Insurance: $250

Title Search Fees: $126

Recording Fees: $24

VT Transfer Tax: $325

All of which bring the grand total of the land to $27,624.56 (including the $149.56 in Shangra-La property taxes for 1/2 year)

I also confirmed at the closing that I will forfeit a portion of any profits on the property to the beautiful State of Vermont should I decide to sell within 5 years.

Fat chance.

This land is my land

2009-03-10T13:00:00.005-04:00

In the previous post, the LSW illustrated her misgivings about The Dream with a picture of a rusty shipping container marked ‘Foreclosed’. While her faith in me warms my heart, I think I can set her mind at ease on at least one thing:

When you pay cash for everything, there is no one to foreclose on your property.

And this is probably where The Dream diverges for the two of us. I suspect that for her it represents weekends with The Boy camping without actually having to go 'camping' and trolling the picturesque countryside for good food and diversions. For me, however, the knowledge that I own a home outright is at least as appealing, and provides a number of intangible benefits:

1) In economic downturns like this one, we don’t have to be concerned about becoming homeless
2) We don’t have to worry about how to pay off my current house before retirement
3) Should we decide to ‘downshift’ our lifestyle or change careers entirely, we can ditch the portion of my salary that supports a (big NYC suburb) mortgage on a (relatively modest) house
4) It gives The Boy a model of home ownership that is not based upon enormous debt, and introduces him to people who are less immersed in the consumerist/career culture that is predominant in Southwestern Connecticut
5) Being right on the VAST system, gives me an excuse to by a Snowmobile

The LSW has heard me repeatedly summarize these benefits to friends as “Three acres and a shotgun!” It’s tongue-in-cheek, but I guess I can see why she’s a little nervous.

There's a reason for my hesitation in this whole "cabin in the woods" scenario

2009-03-06T21:58:00.003-05:00

LSW here. This is what I dream of when we talk about building a cabin:

This is what I fear we'll end up with:

Sometimes a cigar is just a cabin in Vermont

2009-03-05T08:12:00.005-05:00

LSW here again. Soon after the Vermonster came home with pictures of the property on his cell phone, I found myself sitting in the shrink’s office.

I’ve been seeing McFreud for a few years now. I offer this information freely and casually as if I was including him in a list of people I might also employ: a housekeeper, a nanny, a personal trainer, a pool boy, a chef. But the truth of the matter is, I bandy this information about as a way to head people off at the pass. “I’m not screwed up or crazy,” I want to say. “I just trust the instincts and advice my shrink offers.” That’s certainly true. Plus it’s nice to have 45 solid minutes where I get to sit in a comfy bouncy chair, stare out the window and not be interrupted by the phone or the boy or the cat.

So a few months ago, this was the conversation I had with McFreud.

“This is all I hear,” I say to him. “Talk, talk, talk,” I say, as I mimic chattering beaks with my hands squaking all around my head. “Land. Cabin. Septic. I just don’t process any of it.”

He looks at me with his poker face.

“I don’t know,” I say, my usual response when things get all quiet. “I don’t know.”

He bounces in his chair. I bounce in mine. (No proverbial couch here.) Finally he speaks.

“See, he’s up here on a high,” says McFreud, holding his hand above his head. “He’s feeling euphoric. Meanwhile, you’re down here,” he says, moving his hand below his knee. “You feel like you need to play the role of the anchor, but he views you as the ball-and-chain.”

Bingo. As usual, he’s hit the nail on the head, making my $15 co-pay worth every penny. But his job isn’t to judge or give advice. His job is to help me find my own way through this.
“You’re absolutely right,” I say. I leave his office with my assignment: to tell the Vermonster (and worse yet, prove to him) that I’m not a stick in the Green Mountain mud. If there’s one thing I fear, it’s turning into a bitter, old kill joy, stick-in-the-mud, ball-and-chain. So things needed to change. And that, my friends, is how I came to the point in my life where I dedicated myself to learning the difference between a conventional septic system and the more expensive—but probably necessary-- mound system. This is where the fun begins ...

Capitulation

2009-03-04T19:08:00.003-05:00

I had been watching the stock market obsessively for over 3 months – furtively stealing glances at CNBC every hour at work, listening to ‘Marketplace’ every evening and surfing a handful of financial web sites between guitar practice on the weekends. What did I learn?

1) The market had no confidence in the Bush administration
2) It has even less confidence in the Obama administration
3) No one – from the pundits to the traders to (seemingly) the Fed chairman – has any idea how bad this is going to be or when we’re going to get out of it

The voices predicting a rally grew steadily weaker as each surge in the market crumbled under the weight of fear and uncertainty. As I watched my share price drop from $21 to $12.50, I found myself traversing that famous mental path through denial (It will come back!), anger (But I was just about to finally realize The Dream!) and bargaining (I’ll cash out when the Dow goes back to 9,000 – we still get more than we put in) to acceptance (Eh, it was all just paper wealth anyway. Let's order out for Chinese!).

The breaking point came when I read that ‘the charts’ were predicting the Dow would fall below 6,000. It was bad enough that I knew what ‘the charts’ were (too boring to recount); the fear that my money would completely dry up and blow away had finally became unbearable. I was tired of tracking the markets, numb from all the bad news, sick of the prognosticators and weary of the punditry. I finally ‘capitulated’, as the talking heads call it: I took my money and ran.

I know what you're thinking: But wait! You’ve locked in your losses! This is the time to buy, not sell! Stocks are always a good investment in the long run!

Meh. I never trusted the market to begin with, and I’m done.

...And the surprising thing is that I feel really good about it! Now at least I know my budget: A very modest $24,276, plus any interest (at 2%) that accumulates and any nickels I find under the couch. I don’t have to tell the three of you that clearing the land, building a cabin, digging a well and putting in septic at this price is going to require a lot of sweat equity on my part, a rift in the time/space continuum and infinite patience from the LSW. Should be a fun year!

Stay tuned.

Venting

2009-02-27T17:52:00.011-05:00

This week, the stock market is officially off 50% from it's high earlier this year.

Give me a second to rant: I couldn't have cared less about the stock market until this little adventure began. I only put money in it because of the 50-cent-on-the-dollar offer from my employer if I participated in the 401(k) plan. Frankly, I've always mis-trusted the stock market as a baby-boomer fad, and, like most of their schemes from Vietnam to leisure suits, nothing good can come of it.*

Now, unfortunately, I follow CNBC religiously, as well as The Motley Fool, and any number of other financial websites, wondering how long it will be before I can access the ~~pittance~~ investments that will fund The Dream. For the record, I resent the time I'm wasting following all this crap when I would have been perfectly happy to put my retirement/future cabin funds in a safe 2% COD. And to think I would have been laughing all the way to the bank! (To make a withdrawal.)

I know...no, wait - I hope it will all come back, but dollars to donuts (which are probably worth more) it won't go up nearly as fast as it all fell apart. Of course, I could bet the farm and pull it all out now, but the talking heads are all saying that everything will turn around at the end of 2009.

I feel like Basil Fawlty after he beat his Morris 1100 with a tree branch: [Shaking fist at the sky] "Thank you god!!! Thank you so bloody much!!!"

Rant mode off. I wish I could say I felt better, but I don't.

*I hereby specifically exempt any schemes by my next-door neighbors and, of course, my father.

We interrupt this blog for a message from the LSW

2009-02-26T19:05:00.009-05:00

LSW here. I figured it was about time I got on here and ~~told you the truth about this crazy scheme~~ shared my side of the story.

For me, it started when we were visiting relatives in Maine. Husband (who shall henceforth be known as Vermonster) was surfing the Web, looking at property in Vermont. This was nothing new, as we've often day-dreamed about owning a little cabin in Vermont, the place where open-minded, nature-loving, cheese-eating New Yorkers go to get a little R&R and pretend to read "Walden." But something told me that this time, things were different. My gut instincts were right.

Flash forward a week. A mystery illness has besot me and all I want is for Vermonster to come home from work and relieve me of taking care of The Boy. He finally arrives and almost instantly I see it-- that strange glint he gets in his eye when he's up to no good. I've seen it so many times before: The Triumph. The MG. The other MG. The guitar. The truck. The kayak. The gold-encrusted woodworking tools. Did I mention the MG? So this is where he admits he took a half day of work (yes, while I was sick, thank you very much) and drove up north to check out some property. And guess what? He took pictures of it on his phone. You must understand-- this is not a man who takes pictures. This is a man who, in the delivery room, was TOLD BY THE NURSE to take a picture of his newborn son. At this point, the message was clear. It was the classic theme: Vermonster vs. LSW, or was it man vs. land?

I have a lot to say about this all. There's much to discuss: the money, the property, the come-to-Jesus discussions, the new lexicon of words such as Unit One, septic assessment, mulching toilet and, my favorite, humanure. So if you want the real story, the one unobscured by rose-colored glasses, stay tuned. I'll be back.

March Madness

2009-02-26T18:32:00.008-05:00

The LSW was surfing the web the other day and discovered that the Saxton’s River Inn was having a ‘buy 1 get 1 free’ offer on bookings through the end of March. We hadn’t planned to go back up until late April, but this was too good to pass up. A quick call later we were booked into a 2nd floor suite with private porch for 2 nights for $160. Nice!

Now I dare not believe the snow will be gone by then, so spending the day walking the property is probably out. Instead, we’re going to drive 2 hours East to pay a visit to Shelter-Kit (see Options, Options).

Back in November, we had visions of a very small camp – a kit house less than 500 square feet that we could add on to later. As the months wore on, however, 500 square feet became 600, then 800, and then the kit house morphed into a small cape that I would build myself with help from ~~foolish~~ willing friends. My desire for a small getaway, well, got away from me as concerns about resale crowded my thoughts. All the while the LSW was becoming increasingly concerned that I was getting in over my head, setting us up for endless headaches and cost overruns.

And then a few days ago I suddenly – and unexpectedly – found that I agreed with her. I woke up on a Sunday morning and immediately thought “I’d rather have 250 square feet completed in a month than 1,000 square feet that we’ll be working on for 2-3 years and continually feel broke because of.”

So I’ve come full circle to my original plan: A Shelter-Kit Unit One with one enclosed and one open porch, built on piers by me and the LSW. I’ve been assured the basic structure will go up in about 7 days, and it’s modular, so we can expand it in $5 – 10k increments as the spirit moves.

Downside: It will be tight and we won’t be able to have guests until we expand. Also, at $16k it’s about 60% more expensive than stick-framing an equivalent-sized structure ourselves.

Upside: It will go quickly with minimal hassle, no power tools, no construction waste and minimal land clearing. It will also – and this is important – be a simple structure that will require minimal maintenance vis-à-vis “a real house”.

So we’re going up to the factory to take a first-hand look, and I’m sure a number of discussions will follow about how we could (or perhaps won’t) enjoy such a small space. Essentially, we’re talking a 9x5 bath, 9x6 kitchen, 12x12 common space (living AND sleeping), and a 9x12 covered porch. Small, but better than your average hotel room, so there’s that.

But I’ve changed my mind before, and both my annual bonus (or lack thereof in this economy) and the stock market will strongly impact the final decision. Still, it should be a fun weekend.

Yes In Deed!

2009-02-22T17:37:00.002-05:00

I received an envelope from the lawyer today containing two items:

1) A title insurance policy
2) The property deed stamped as 'recorded' by the town of Shangra-La

NOW it's official. I considered having it framed, but it went in the fire-proof lock box instead. But I'm celebrating with a 'Southern Tier' IPA beside a warm fire.

A Response from the Blogosphere

2009-02-22T17:09:00.001-05:00

Huzzah!! I have a comment on this modest little endeavor!

The astute reader (all 3 of you) may have noticed that the owner of Shelter Kit commented on my 'Options, Options...' post last time. So, in the spirit of taping my first $1 bill to the wall, I'm going to reply in a post:

Dave, I haven't ruled Shelter-Kit out, and I have recently taken a closer look at the barn-house options. You should also be aware that your staff has been exemplary in keeping friendly - though professional and unobtrusive - contact with me since my first inquiry. I plan a visit you in March or April to get a first-hand look at the product. Thanks for reading!

Now, before anyone starts to think I'm a Shelter-Kit plant, let me state for the record that I had no idea these guys existed before I started researching by options for the cabin. What impressed me is that they went beyond the other manufacturers I contacted in keeping my name on file and occasionally reaching out to me about my plans and how their product might suit my needs. Not like used car salesmen would, but more in the spirit of 'hey, we're here and hoping you'll take a look at our product - we're sure you'll like it'; not pushy, but taking every potential sale seriously. I can respect that.

And in this economy, I'm surprised my inbox is otherwise empty.

Efforts to realize The Dream are otherwise on hold until the snow melts in April (May?) and I can hire the Environmental Engineer to further assess whether or not we can fall back from a mound to a conventional septic system (and recoup about $6,000 in the process). Around the same time, I'll determine how much land clearing will be required and start talking seriously to well-drillers. In the meantime, I'm teaching myself guitar to pass the time...