LIttle House in the Big Woods - Foundation

 Five years of regulatory purgatory. Waiting on architect, structural engineer, approval for water well and a 'Critical Environmental Site Survey' and a geohazard slope failure risk analysis. Then, just when were ready to build the house - a year of shut down by the state for Covid-19 response. You can debate me, but most of these wasted five years was over-regulated government over-kill.

By August, 2021, our General Contractor has lined up vendors to begin construction. GC Phil says, "You should be out here around October 24, that's when we're scheduled to get started."

Four days of driving  and I clock almost 2,200 from Garland, Texas to my gate in Arlington, Washington. Two attempts by criminal elements to drill-out and then cut the lock on the gate earlier in the month has made it necessary to replace the two damaged locks, for which I do not yet have a key. I'll have to get that new key from Phil when we meet.

I pull off I-5 at dusk on Saturday, October 23rd and pull into the drive and hop over the barrier eager to see what progress has been made on the remaining foundation. There are three concrete walls left standing after the fire five years ago. Those walls have been patched and new forms have been set to pour the foundation for the southern extension of the the new footprint and two bay window foundations have been added. The forms are still in place, but inside them is the solid cement for the new beginning. 

I inspect the signs of progress and my soul is filled with hope that finally, dreams will shift from the abstract lines on paper plans to tangible walls of concrete reality.

Phil and Dave finish the foundation work.

I bunk with my sister and brother-in-law in their home in Anacortes, 34 miles from the Pilchuck Place. I consult with Phil on scheduling for work. I wait for three days and then meet him and his brother on site. Phil and Dave pry off the forms, my job is to scrape them clean of dried cement and load the heavy forms into his van to be returned to the building material rental shop - before they are stolen from the site like Phil's $8,000 worth of cement forms were last year.

I scrape and lift and then scrape, chip, clean and then lift and load. Repeat about 80 times. I am tired and cold working under the the Pacific NW liquid sky. I return to a hot, soaking bath and  bed in Anacortes. My appetite has evaporated. 

I am mystified. Hard physical labor in cold weather should make my body demand a high caloric intake. I'm not feeling it. I think I might be a little bit pregnant - remembering my wife explaining that the smell or even sight of some food while being with child was a big turn-off. I sort of get it now. Strange.

Dave and Phil rest in front of their foundation work.

The new cement foundation sits fallow. Phil is making many calls trying to line up a framing crew. Everyone is busy; the supply chain is broken, demand outstrips supply. There is a labor shortage. No framing crews reply to his voice messages. No one is available. I am concerned.

Phil puts a hold on the lumber delivery since we have no workers to build the house with the material that is waiting to be delivered. Eventually we take delivery of enough 2x4's and such to frame the basement - once we have found a crew.

 

Lumber load is dropped. Enough to frame the basement - once we can find a framing crew in this crazy, supply chain labor shortage delirium.

 

Materials arrive, Waiting on workers.

October 28, I move into the trailer on the property to keep watch on building material, fearing theft. It has happened before. I have purchased a 12 gauge shotgun and carry a Colt 32. I have taken firearms instruction. I don't expect to use them, much less force the issue with any intruder after I call the sheriff if their is attempt to breech my gate. But I am prepared to defend myself on my own land.

I settle into my trailer behind a locked gate every night. Vigilant for any signs of forced entry onto my property where valuable building material sits waiting for it to be turned from a stack of lumber into a dream home.

I can see the little house in the big woods in my imagination. The foundation is laid. The future by definition must always be a dream. But I can wander out into the morning mist and touch the concrete foundation. I say to myself, the dream rest right here as I place my hand on the firm reality of a concrete foundation.