Off-the-grid inspiration

Chris and I parachuted into Nan and Mason’s Big Adventure last week, and boy have those two classed up the neighborhood on Flat Top. Between Nan’s eye for style and Mason’s fearless approach to rehab/demo work, they’ve turned a once-humble abode into a shore-nuff B&B up in the Tennessee hills.

Nan cooked up a storm, Mason served up home brew, Nick the Dog got us off our duffs and out into the lovely woods for twice-daily strolls.

Their new life, off-the-grid, is a far cry from our Loveless project, where the Menards is a mere 15 minutes away. But the work they’ve done is nothing short of inspirational. I might just steal an idea or two once Chris and I move into Sweat Equity Phase II.

Artist's rendering (Nan's Mom).




Loveless for sure needs a big ole fire pit like this.




 Nan could easily find work as a landscape consultant.

Ain't this the life?

Trees of Loveless

I went to great pains to try to preserve the trees and native woodsy plants that had re-taken the shady lot at Loveless during those years of neglect. One of my favorite things was to hike down this footpath we created, on the way to the cabin demo.

The scene au naturel last summer.

Lucky for me, my generous neighbor, Scott, let the construction trucks use his driveway to access my land so I didn't have to carve a driveway down the hill. 

Still, I was bowled over when I saw the place for the first time after the well had been dug, the septic system installed and the foundation walls erected. A whole lot of volunteer saplings and mature ferns got plowed up, including some of the young river birches I was so thrilled to discover last year.

My friends urged me not to fret, and reminded me that I can always replant. So once we grade the land (I've got a friend with the equipment and joie de vivre for Loveless), we'll start crafting a new natural landscape.

Meantime, I'm dedicating this blog post to the trees of Loveless. 

This tree, positioned between my neighbor's property and mine, took the brunt of collateral damage. Fingers crossed it'll heal in due time. 

On the up side, I was able to save this tree. It already has proven its mettle as the toughest tree on the lot, but it’s also one of the nicest. Man, if this tree could talk ...  

And, the future. Right after buying the place in Fall 2010, I transplanted four tiny spruce seedlings that were destined for compost due to trampling, because they were sprouting right on our footpath. It looks like three of them have made it, so far. This photo, snapped last month, makes me think I might be able to save a few more.



Then there's this funky tree hugger. My good friend and former bandmate Bill Plattes (a fiddling phenom) took this photo of the twisted sisters. He made a sojourn to Loveless in mid-March with his wife, the lovely and talented interior designer, Laurie Plattes.



Bashful Bill.

First things first

As for that 90-90 rule? I’m revising it. The last 1 percent is taking 190 percent of my patience. 

Ah well, ah hell.  It just gives the old noggin’ a chance to ruminate about what we’ll do when the builder, electrician and countertop-sander finally wrap up their lingering chores.

Here’s my priority list – for now:

1.      Hang gutters (let’s put that water problem in the rearview mirror)

2.      Build deck (gotta have a place to hang out)

3.      Finish off screened porch (skeeters be damned)

That's the easy, peasy list. 

Then there’s the mental battle to prioritize everything else – clean up the lake shore and build a dock; grade the post-construction dirt piles; plant some trees and native plants to keep the hillside from washing into Loveless Lake; paint the blue foundation walls (that were supposed to be clear coated); build a shed (and outhouse?); put in a shower and sink … etc., etc.

Then there are things that I want to do right away but logically should wait. Like moving this pallet of heavy cedar decking out of the driveway. The pieces are insanely heavy, and will require disassembling before we can move them.

Back when the weeHouse was part of a traveling road show, the deck was used to show off the sexy Saturn Sky convertible.

To my way of thinking, moving the decking frees up a whole line of important projects --starting with getting this clump of four basswoods out of the branches of my scruffy-yet-regal spruce trees.

The tree guys can't get their bucket truck in to do the work until that pallet is gone. (See what I mean about priorities?)



Circa Winter 2010, with a view of the former cabin.





The toppled trunks render these stairs useless.



Eventually, I hope to repurpose the Saturn deck as a walkway from the driveway to the back porch. Whatever deck is left over, Chris suggests we lay down as a boardwalk along the side of the house.

Here's my inspiration.

Inspiration.



The real deal.

Inspiration.

The real deal.

Incrementalism

This term usually refers to important things, like changing health policy or eliminating the gender pay gap. But it seems a fitting way to describe the gradual changes underway at Loveless over the past two months.

Then again, the crawl to the finish line in Phase I Construction gave us chance to discover and solve the water-in-the-basement issue before we started hanging drywall.

In celebration of incrementalism, I submit today’s posting: the new sink.

Lovely, undermount sink ... and running water to boot!



Hoping to find a new use for this weeSink at some point.



Spring sprung a leak

One of the lessons of Loveless (that I can’t always sustain in other aspects of my life) is that it’s helpful to adopt a belief that things will work out, eventually. 

And so it was when water from the spring snow melt began seeping under the weeHouse windows and dripping into the walkout basement. In at least four spots.

Steady drip ran right along the windows in front and back.




Bamboo floors took on water, too. An easy fix if floor had been laid down lengthwise, as in the original construction.  



Eventually, the builder and the architect stood side-by-side looking at the problem and figuring out a solution. We’re hoping that the fixes -- combined with a gutter system Chris and I will install in the coming weeks -- will do the trick.

Done fishin’

I knew it was a roll of the dice when I plunked down $50 for my first ever fishing license on August 28, 2011. I bought it thinking that even though it was a big price for a short season -- it expires March 31, 2012 -- I’d support the Wisconsin DNR and hopefully start bonding with the hot-pink ice fishing rod Chris got me last year.

Who knew that the weeProject on Loveless Lake would linger well into March, and that the ice fishin’ season would be cut off months early with our freakishly (wonderfully so) warm winter?

On March 6, Chris made a materials delivery to Loveless on what turned out to be a balmy 60-degree record setter. Trucks were still driving on the lake, even though the fishing holes had melted enough to swallow a tire and the tracks were slushy enough to chill a beer.

Good thing the summer fishing season is just around the corner, on May 2.

The 90-90 rule

We're deep in the 90-90 rule at Loveless: The first 90 percent of the project has taken us 90 percent of time.  The final 10 percent is taking the rest of the 90 percent of time.



Ahhh. Much better.

Good news ... tah dah ... the new and proper doors are in.

Jesse "The Builder" has a good deal on a couple of gently used 6-foot Andersen sliders, if you're in the market. (See previous post.)

Otherwise, very little progress in more than a month. Everyone seems to be waiting for someone else to get his work done.