Tiny Cabin…for Three?

Baby ultrasound picture

That’s right. Life is full of wonderful surprises. I’m nearly six months pregnant.

Although we’d talked about having children of our own off and on over the twelve years of our marriage, we haven’t always been on the same page. Nevertheless, when I became pregnant last July, we were overjoyed. All of the concerns we had felt insignificant compared to the new life we had made together.

Eight weeks later, I had a miscarriage. It happened just before Chuck’s bicep tendon surgery and in the midst of bad news regarding his mother’s cancer. That time is a blur for me, except for the gestures of love and support from close family and friends who helped us through.

After all that we knew we wanted a baby. We also knew we hadn’t figured out the details yet. And what about the tiny cabin?

For awhile I was still going to the land, insect repellent ready, but sheer determination only goes so far with a little one kicking inside. I listened to my body, which meant a good bit of my time was spent sitting in the shade and reminding Chuck to hydrate. We made progress surely but slowly. At first, I thought of the baby as adding pressure to the mix of all that we need to get done. Recently, however, I realized that was the wrong way to think about the new and exciting changes.

I’m due at the end of September, and there is still much to be done on the cabin which will require minor and major purchases—including an A/C system. Although our original move-in date was August 2017, I have decided that a hot cabin away from my doctor and family while I’m eight months pregnant may not be what’s best for me. And after the baby is born, I’ll want to be in my well-established nest near my mother, who has vowed to help me in the difficult first few weeks.

And if things weren’t adventurous enough, we will be teaching in Italy in Spring 2018 (baby in tow). That also takes the pressure off of finishing the cabin by the time school starts.

So we’ve taken a deep breath. We’ve set new goals.

We would like to make headway on the bathroom by the end of summer. Having a bathroom (and hopefully shower) will make working and staying at the cabin more convenient for obvious reasons while we continue finishing the kitchen, the living room shelves, the floor, and the loft. And, possibly—eventually—a baby room off the back. We’ll see.

Tiny Cabin: Ceiling

A month ago we picked Saturday, May 20th for Chuck’s cousin Scott to come down from Northern Arkansas and help us insulate and finish the tiny cabin ceiling.
In spite of a 100% chance of rain and two snakes (in passionate embrace or bloody murder) inside the cabin earlier in the week, we were not canceling.
One road into Higginson was flooded; the other was puddled but passable. Some roofs were still covered in tarps from the tornado that blew through a couple months ago. (Sometimes I wonder what plague-ridden place we’ve chosen for a simpler life.)
Scott, who roofed the cabin for us last June, has the muscle memory to do in one hour what would take us all day. He put the insulation on his back, and as he went up the ladder, slid the insulation in place until his head was supporting the last segment.

 

While the insulation is squeezed between the studs, gravity is still at work. Chuck, on a smaller ladder, stapled the bottom half of the insulation while Scott stapled the top half. My father-in-law (Charles Bane, Sr.) sliced the insulation to fit–each piece was about 9″ too long. I mainly swatted mosquitoes–“big enough to pick up a child,” as Scott said–and watched.
By early afternoon the ceiling was complete–mission accomplished!
We’ll still need to run a strip of wood up the middle to hide the seam between the two sides of the ceiling. The wood’s light color makes the cabin feel spacious and airy. As much of a pain as the steep roof has been, it’s the reason the tiny cabin doesn’t make me feel claustrophobic.
This week Chuck finished the shed and we started moving things out of the cabin. We still have cleanup and organizing to do, but we’re over a hump. With the shed in place, we can set up the compost bin for the toilet. We still need to dig a trench, run the pipes, and install the toilet–our next big hurdle.

Tiny Cabin: Summer Vacation

Between frequent rain and the busy end of the semester, we basically managed to maintain the property and insulate the walls of the tiny cabin.
We’ve ordered parts for the bathroom, including a mop sink for a shower. We couldn’t find a shower basin smaller than 32″ x 32″, and we needed something along the lines of 27″ x 27″. After a couple YouTube DIY videos, Chuck was ready to pour the concrete himself and tile it. I love his determined spirit–it is what has taken us this far–but we are ready to streamline our process. So when I ran across the mop sink for $125 and free shipping, we jumped at the chance.
The components for the bathroom are ready–they just need to be assembled. The first and greatest task is the composting toilet. The compost bin must be away from the house and sheltered from the elements, and we need to dig a trench for the piping system. I can’t remember what we were expecting when we bought the toilet two years ago, but it seems more involved now than when we purchased it.
Once assembled, we’ll need a solar panel to make the pump work. But one thing we won’t have to worry about is water–it takes only 1/4 a cup to flush.
So, last week Chuck worked first on clearing the land and then on assembling the shed which will house the compost bin. The shed will also give us a place to store other items taking up precious space in the cabin.

On different days he had help from his dad, me, and his son Geoffrey. The summer heat hasn’t arrived yet, but we did hit 86 degrees–a drastic change from the 50s and 60s of the week before.

This weekend Chuck’s cousin Scott–who roofed the cabin for us–is coming to help finish the ceiling insulation and panels. After Chuck’s fall last year, there are certain jobs on which I insist having professional help.

Tiny Cabin Exterior May 2017

We’re still dodging rain (and, now, mosquitoes), but we should have a few weeks of somewhat pleasant weather. And unlike last year at this time, the tiny cabin has a roof, so even on rainy days we can do things inside.

The tiny cabin’s long and winding road

tiny-cabin-11-3-16

Chuck’s arm is healing slowly but surely. He is still not allowed to lift anything, and his 24/7 brace prevents him from extending his arm more than 110 degrees. Four times a day is a physical therapy routine including ten minutes each of heat, massage, stretching, and ice. The physical therapist says everything looks the way it should, and we hope to get a good report from the surgeon next week.

Despite Chuck having only one usable arm, we planned a cabin work day with a friend who has construction experience. Our goal: to finish hanging the doors and install the great window.

But a few days before our ambitious plan, we received some bad news: my mother-in-law’s scan showed that the cancer had progressed to the extent that nothing more could be done. In truth, we had been suspecting the worst based on how she’d been feeling. More than ever, the cabin felt like it could wait.

As painful as it was, we did as she said and took down the family Bible with the funeral plans she had written out years ago.

Let me just say that Dianna Bane is the kindest person I’ve ever known. When someone has a baby and Dianna calls to share the good news, she doesn’t say, “He was born.” She says, “He’s here!” She celebrates the presence of a new life, which is the way she meets everyone—acknowledging their humanity and their integrity, speaking to the person’s best self.

She’s generous, steadfast, and abundantly loving. She brings joy to a room. She is a peacemaker. Especially lately, she’s been long-suffering and patient.

And so we were all quick to answer her one request: to gather both sides of the family and have Christmas early. From the newest addition to the family born September 9th—Gus Bane Parsley—to her great-nephew Robbie Dixon briefly home on military leave, her family will gather tomorrow for a Christmas with autumn leaves still hanging on.

Post-surgery update

First things first: Chuck is home in bed sleeping through the post-operation pain. The doctor said that everything went well: he was able to pull down the bicep, integrate the donor tissue, and attach the tendon. Presumably, the bunches of nerves that had to be moved out of the way were laid back where they should be and will, in the coming weeks, regain any lost feeling.

I can’t help but think of the children’s game Operation. I was terrified of it as a kid, and I still haven’t warmed to the idea of incisions, stitches, and the red light of pain. At least I can appreciate the miracle of science, however, and know that at some point Chuck will be able to carry his grandson without hurting, and that later in life he’ll still be able to turn the keys in the ignition. I feel gratitude for the organ donor, the medical advances that led to such a procedure, and the skilled hands that performed the operation.

 

Before the surgery, the doctor marked Chuck’s arm with a purple sharpie to make sure they operated on the correct one. Though I secretly felt squeamish the whole morning, I took comfort and even found humor in such a precaution.

chucks-arm-before-surgery

I cropped out Chuck’s face–he already had “faraway eyes,” as the Rolling Stones say. He hasn’t quite sobered up enough to be reminded of the rigid facts: the bandages (wrapped with a splint) will stay in place for two weeks until his follow-up appointment. They absolutely cannot get wet. He won’t be able to lift anything with that arm for six weeks, not even his favorite KISS coffee mug, much less play the drums.

kiss-coffee-mug

Additionally, and perhaps the hardest part, is that even after three months he will still need to lift things deliberately and with great care. We’ll know more details as his physical therapy progresses. As for cabin work, he must wait until he’s made a full recovery: six months. That’s March 22nd, which seems a world away.

Of course, the doctor added, Chuck is allowed to point while someone else works on the cabin. We’ll see if it comes to that. Right now, we have to make peace with uncertainty and instead focus on the all-important task of rebuilding a healthy body.

Tiny Cabin Update: Surgery

Although Chuck’s fall off of a ladder was over three months ago, his right (dominant) arm still hadn’t regained its strength. In fact, it hurt to lift very much, and his arm was prone to give out if he did. His other arm hurt too, in different ways—more of an acute shooting pain—so he went to see an orthopedic doctor.

After X-rays, the doctor determined that the left arm had a strained AC tendon and would benefit from a steroid shot. The other arm, he suspected, had a torn distal bicep tendon. If the remaining muscle was still healthy, surgery would be possible and would take care of the problem. If not, nothing could be done. The muscle would continue to atrophy and he would never regain the strength in his arm.

Here’s a link to a video about the condition. Warning: it’s a bit graphic at the end.

The MRI results showed that surgery is an option. The muscle had retracted 13 cm, and the doctor wanted to do the surgery as soon as possible. He will reconnect the muscle and tendon with donor tissue. After a week, Chuck will begin physical therapy. I’m not quite sure about the overall recovery time.

The surgery is scheduled for September 22nd. It is, of course, better than the alternative. However, no one looks forward to surgery.

As for the cabin, well…it looks like there will be more delays. I dreamed last night that the cabin was perched in the branches of a high tree and that I needed to unlock the door. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be able to get in later. I’m not sure how I climbed up there, but I managed to get the door unlocked. I didn’t know when we would be back, though, and had to leave it there waiting for us.

tiny-cabin-9-9-16

From Big to Tiny

A lot of people have asked if the cabin is going to be a vacation home or a permanent residence. The long-term answer is: permanent residence.

But right now, Chuck’s youngest child still has two years of high school in the town where our current home is. He stays with us every other week.

The “plan” is to live in the tiny cabin every other week until Geoffrey graduates so that Chuck doesn’t have to commute two hours a day. Meanwhile, we continue getting rid of “stuff” and simplifying as much as we can.

We have nearly two years to transition from big to tiny. Our current home has been in the family since 1952. It will probably stay in the family, possibly remaining furnished, or with any heirloom furniture given to family members. The house itself is nearly 100 years old, and it needs continual TLC. Living there for the past 11 years has been a labor of love. It’s more space than we need (especially now that the kids are nearly grown) and a little more than we would like to maintain.

What about all our “stuff”? People ask me this all the time. We have over 2,000 books, and it’s been awhile since I counted. Our house is like a Poké stop for books—they find us and congregate, waiting to be collected.

We talked about going completely digital, but I can’t break the habit of holding a book and smelling its pages (not to mention my slight distrust of technology).

We’re thinking, for the long term, about a media cabin. No kitchen, shower, or loft; just a half bath, reading chairs, and wall-to-wall books. Maybe a couch with a hide-a-bed for when guests visit. We can display my grandmother’s artwork and set up our record player. With the weight of the vinyls and the books, we’ll need a strong structure, but we’ll keep it simple—simpler than our current cabin, e.g., no 12/12 pitch roof.

After all, we’ve purchased plenty of battery-powered tools and have learned a lot. But that’s on down the road.

For now, I’d like to make living in a 10 x 16 cabin work. We once rented a 400 sq. ft. studio apartment, and we had neighbors on all sides (and a bus stop out front). The small space didn’t bother us at all. Once we add the screened-in porch on the back, we’ll have even more room. But right now our focus is on getting the cabin done.

The weather briefly cooled to the 80s, but it was rainy. Yesterday the heat index hit 109. Also, school started and brought with it a 50-hour work week plus commute for Chuck. I’m teaching a class as well, in addition to managing my editing business.

Next time we go out there will be mainly mowing and maintaining the grounds. But soon, those Bradford pears that have been thorns in our side (literally) will erupt in vibrant colors, a nice backdrop for finishing the exterior and moving inside.

Tiny Cabin Update: Siding and Shingles

Several people have asked when the cabin will be finished. Well, it’s hard to say. When it’s 100 degrees with a heat index of 111, I’d rather tackle some of the 10,000 other things on my “to do” list, not to mention catch up on my freelance editing.

But since my brother Jared was coming in from Oklahoma and volunteered–that’s right, volunteered!–to help, we braved the heat. That week, at least, we had one day at 91 degrees, though another had a heat index of 107. By the time the heat became unbearable, however, we were so focused on our game plan that it didn’t slow us down. We arrived between 7 and 8 each morning and didn’t stop until sometime between 1 and 2.

First step: staining the siding. After staining the first sheet on our hands and knees, we decided to save our backs and carry the sheets to the sawhorses. Chuck framed out the sides of the house and made a run to the hardware store. I can’t remember what we needed, but it never fails that the first day has a few hiccups.

I also showed Jared how to hang the cedar shingles. I had a system for fitting them together, but he improved on it. At first we worked as a team, and then it became clear he’d be faster by himself with me trimming boards when needed.

But our main focus was getting up the siding since there were three of us. Jared and Chuck lifted the panels into place and I made sure the bottom went over the lip of the trim and then pushed from the side until the siding locked with the piece next to it.

What’s up next? I’ll finishing painting the underside of the eave and try not to get paint everywhere. In hindsight, I should have done that before the siding was in place. Chuck will frame out the window and we’ll move the scaffolding to the other side. Our goal is to have the exterior completely done by the end of August. That leaves the inside, which we can do little by little, as time and school permit!

Tiny cabin update: then and now

On July 9, 2015, I wrote in my 5-year journal, “Worked on the land–2 tarps down and dirt where the house will be.”

Tiny Cabin Spot - June 2015

Tiny Cabin Spot – June 2015

Even though we began this adventure in May of 2015, it took us awhile to find the perfect spot and then clear it. We had hoped to complete the cabin by the time school started last year, but we didn’t finish the foundation until October or have a frame until March.

So now, one year after the first dirt was spread on the cabin site, we can see how far we’ve come. We’re not exactly putting on the “finishing touches,” but things are moving much faster now.

In the past two weeks, we’ve spent a lot of time at our current home, which has a sizable yard to maintain and wood floors crawling with dust bunnies. I had hoped to do more deep cleaning and closet organizing, but I’ve been busy freelance editing. Still, we made time for respites of play: West Side Story and Romeo and Juliet were unforgettable. We saw a 1623 First Folio as well–each state in the U.S. currently has one on display in honor of the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare’s death.

This past Friday, the conditions were right for cabin work. We drove through rain hoping that it wouldn’t follow us. The morning was cloudy and comfortable, especially for July. I trimmed Bradford pears while Chuck hung the front door and framed the window.

 

Exterior doors aren’t cheap, but we got lucky. A few months ago, my brother stopped some restaurant workers from throwing two doors in a dumpster. They’re solid wood and in good shape.

Once the trim was up, we could finish the rows of shingles. We’ve ordered tempered glass for the transom windows, so our next steps are to finish the shingles, install the windows, and finish hanging the door (which will need to be filed at the bottom and possibly repainted).

From outside, our cabin is beginning to look like a house–and soon we’ll be working to make the inside a home.

Tiny Cabin Update: Walls

This week we spent three days at the land with a long list of minor and major tasks. The weather was on our side, considering it was late June. Though it reached 90 degrees a couple days, the heat index stayed under 100. One day was partly cloudy, and another had a breeze. We arrived early with the intention of quitting at lunch, but we were able to work longer without exhausting ourselves.

 

We made a big purchase this week that sped up progress: a generator. Our neighbors have been generous in letting us link extension cords to use their electricity, but we decided this would be a good investment to make sooner rather than later.

This week’s “to do” list:

  • Assemble generator
  • Frame and install bathroom window
  • Spread gravel for more even ground for scaffolding
  • Finish sub-floor (measure, cut, and nail boards)
  • Finish base walls (measure, cut, and nail boards)
  • Add foam insulation (cut, nail, and seal with tape)
  • Reinforce side wall with the “great window”
  • Buy framing supplies, trim, and paint

Aside from a few small patches high on the side walls, we accomplished all of our goals. Chuck’s dad came on Tuesday and Thursday. His know-how amazes me. Where I might hesitate on deciding the best plan of action, he acts. And once he shows me how to do something, I am more confident in my actions, not to mention more efficient.

We also plan to do pink insulation between the studs, but the foam board will create a tighter seal and add additional insulation.

I enjoyed being on the scaffolding–again, I’ve had lots of monkey-bar experience. I’m also more comfortable wielding the nail gun. Over time, my arm muscles have strengthened and my fear of the nail gun has waned. I’m happy to leave the sawing to Chuck. He’s also much better at making a pattern with the foam board nails, which will be helpful later when we’re nailing up the cedar shingles on the front and the siding on the other walls. (The panel I nailed looks like it was done by a sawed-off shotgun, and I used twice as many nails as was necessary.)

Next week the temperature will soar to 100–perfect for swimming in Lake Beaverfork or reading a good book in air conditioning. We also have tickets to see the Arkansas Shakespeare Theatre‘s Romeo and Juliet and West Side Story. We’ve already enjoyed the outdoor A Midsummer Night’s Dream but missed Twelfth Night, which was sold out this morning! We’re anxious to finish the cabin, but we’re also trying to find balance.

We’ll work at the land tomorrow before family comes in for the 4th. Hopefully, by the end of next week, we’ll have the trim up and at least some of the cedar shingles.