Monday, July 30, 2012

My Recent Obsession

I must be a crazy woman.  In my spare time I've been compiling information on the requirements of a DIY house-building project.  I call it the Imaginary House.  It's my guilty pleasure.

Guilty because the trailer didn't pan out, and I spent $800 to get a series of unpleasant, practical, and "you'd think I'd know better" lessons.  The trailer is going nowhere.  It started going nowhere within the first week and when we had our unexpected relocation, I decided to scrape what remained of my dignity into a thimble and abandon the thing.  I could gripe and complain, but the fact of the matter is that I really needed those lessons to know what not to do with the Imaginary House.

~Imaginary House Rule #1: Have a very precise cost analysis of all materials required, money set aside with which to purchase them, extra money for unexpected expenses, and purchase all materials ahead of time.  (You'd think I'd know better...)
~Imaginary House Rule #2: Be capable of doing everything yourself.  If you can't do it entirely by yourself, have money set aside to hire someone to do it.  (Since hiring someone is expensive, might as well learn how to do it by yourself.)  People might volunteer to help.  That's very nice.  Don't expect them to follow through.  People have busy lives.
~Imaginary House Rule #3: Understand the logistics of everything.  Have a clear plan for how every little piece of every step works and do not deviate.  People will tell you the "correct" way to do things.  Unless its a safety issue, thank them, then ignore them.  They do not necessarily have a vested interest in completing the project.  They do not necessarily have a working knowledge of what you want the project to look like.  And even if they do have a working knowledge that could greatly improve your project, refer back to Rule #2.  Nothing sucks like waiting around for several months for someone to finish the key element of one comparatively small piece of a project that only they know how to do.
~Imaginary House Rule #4: This is more like a dire warning about rule #3.  I like to think I'm not so arrogant as to ignore a professional when they tell me I'm doing something wrong.  Normally I'm a strong advocate for listening to other people and considering their advice.  The problem with this comes when they tell you you're doing something wrong then refuse to offer a workable alternative.  So, when issues arise with Rule #3, consult Rule #2.  If someone tells you doing something is vital to the completion of your project, does doing that something depend entirely on them finding the free time to do it for you?  They might think they're helping by offering to do this complicated thing for you.  But really, they're not.  Nothing sucks like being stuck on a project with nothing to do for several months because someone started to do something vital that you don't understand and didn't finish it.

So... yeah, those are the first rules of my building plan for the Imaginary House.  They sound fantastically bitchy.  I do apologize.  I had a lot of help from several well-meaning people on the trailer, and it wasn't anybody's fault (expect probably mine) that it became such an absolute disaster.  There were several points during which, if I'd had any leadership qualities at all, I should have taken charge and said, "No, we're going to do it this way."  However, I have no leadership qualities.  I'm an antisocial person.  I'm not a team player, and my plans for the trailer should have reflected that.

So, because of this, my Imaginary House plans will be based on the assumption that I don't play well with others, except possibly Fiance.  If something needs to be done, I will do it myself.

Of course, this opens up a whole new door that I would never have expected to open in the past: the sheer mental joy of learning everything about building a house from the foundation up.

Last week, I spent hours trying to figure out how to correctly design and hand craft large beam trusses for a cathedral-style ceiling.  This week, I'm beginning to look at electricity.  Half the challenge is finding out how these things work in the first place.

I should mention that I'm one of those odd folks who gets an enormous jolt in the pleasure center by learning something new and foreign.  I'm in house-building heaven, weighing the pros and cons of different roofing materials because installing roofing is something people always tell me to hire someone else to do.  How many people who've never worked as roofers install their own roofs?  And what about all the stuff that goes on underneath the roofing material?  Trusses?  Support beams?  How about some fancy-looking purlins?

Roofs used to scare me.  I didn't know how they were designed, and because I didn't know that, I assumed that I'd have to hire someone to put them up for me, thus tremendously increasing my imaginary building costs.  Before roofs it was plumbing.  How on earth does plumbing work?  And then I saw youtube videos of people who'd installed tankless water heaters in DIY off-grid housing and some of the mystery's gone.

I feel reasonably confident that I can install my own plumbing, build my own roof, and assemble my own walls.

So now I'm studying electricity, which is perhaps the biggest and scariest of the big scary things I don't know how to do.  I'm not sure I'll be able to make electricity work for me.  I might have to cave a little and hire an electrician to make sure I don't burn my house down or electrocute myself.  But I'm going to study it first.  I want to understand it.  I want to know how it works.  I want it done my way.

I'm sure that sounds spoiled and bratty.  Maybe it is, but I want to understand the Imaginary House.  I want to build it and, having built it, I want to be able to dissect it with my eyes and identify all the inner workings that make it what it is.  If something breaks down, I want to understand why and how.  I want to know which parts broke down and how those parts can be fixed or replaced.  I want to be capable of doing the fixing/replacing myself.  I don't want to feel helpless in the Imaginary House until a professional comes and magically fixes whatever broken thing I don't understand.

Of course, there is a possibility, the Imaginary House will never be built.  It is imaginary after all.  If that's the case, I still want to learn and understand how it works.  If only because it's way too fun to learn about.

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Why I haven't posted in a while...

Due to a series of unforeseen events, we ended up moving away from where we lived very hurriedly.  We packed up all our belongings, spent two nights in a hotel room shopping for apartments, then a month at a good friend's house until our new apartment was ready.  It's a beautiful apartment and we're very happy here.

We were able to bring the cats with us (they're like our pre-children children).  We were not able to take the chickens with us.  The last I've heard, they were sold to a very humane chicken farm.  The trailer is sitting in someone's driveway.

The move was a bit stressful-- as I suppose any sudden relocation would be-- but I'm very happy that we ended up where we are.  This is a beautiful place, and both my fiance and I (and even the cats) are very pleased with out new home.

That said, today I finally began looking at what to do with the trailer.  Since the sudden move, I've been considering abandoning the trailer altogether to build more permanent housing on the land we purchased.  However, we've begun discussing the possibility of leaving the state altogether.

If this were to be the case, we might benefit from having a livable trailer to plop on a new plot of land in a new state and live out of until a more permanent dwelling was constructed.

So... I might begin working at the trailer again.  I'm pretty sure it would be mostly me doing the work on it this time around.  The people who had been available to help me in the past had a lot of schedule conflicts, and several aspects of the trailer work were delayed indefinitely while we waited for our schedules to line up.

So, this time, I'll just work on it myself.  If it turns out okay, it turns out okay.  If it doesn't, I'll consider it a learning experience.  My long-term goal is to live someday in a house that I've built (more or less) with my own hands.  As the trailer will be a much smaller project, it might give me an idea how realistic my aspirations are.

It might all be a disaster.  Certainly there will be at least a few problems that I don't have the experience to remedy correctly.  So I'll just have to make due with the flaws and try to compensate as best I can.

Wish me luck.  One of these days, we'll get back on track.  One of these days, I'll be able to start up a new flock of chickens and build that tiny house I've wanted to build.  We'll just have to wait until we can do it in a place that's more stable.

Every experience, good or bad, is a learning experience.  I'll look at the world that way, and just keep going.  It's all any of us can do.