Half off hardware goodies!

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!]

Hurricane Irene update

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.

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!

First Night

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.

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

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!

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. 

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

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.

I am the Walrus

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.

Rain, rain, go away!

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 !

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.

This Cabin Brought to You By ...

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.

Damn Yankee Flatlanders

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.

Nature Hunting at Shangri-La and A Lesson Learned

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.

Just for Fun

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

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.

Ridge Poles and Rafters

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

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

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!