Space Matters

Not all small homes require the adults to dine at the kid's table!

 Part of moving in to our own construction project means not having everything completely dialed right away.  In some ways this is good-it gives us time to be there and see how it lives.  Right now we are using Mason's table and chairs as our dining set. (We set it and everything, just like a normal diner routine.  Except our knees are confused about where to be.)  Soon we will have some sort of built-in eating space.  We are currently re-designing it, of course!

I am learning this small space demands we think about every motion of our daily life.  This may sound cumbersome, but I'm looking at it this way: we are doing this work now, one time, so we don't have to do it over and over.  We are thinking hard about the role of stuff in our life so that we will be free to think about and do other things with our time.  

The built in coat rack.  Looking forward to cycling jacket weather.

 My friend Meg Bently, who owns an organization consulting business, helped me when she said draw concentric circles around your space. The stuff you use daily should be on the inside circle, followed by the weekly use stuff in the next orb, with monthly use on the most outside circle.  With this in mind I just designated a cabinet drawer to dog food.  I took out the appliances I use weekly,  relocating them above the fridge.  

I've been hard at work on our storage unit, with the hopes of having nothing in it!  The matrix I use for downsizing our stuff is the use:size ratio.  How much do we use the item versus how much space does it take up?  Take the Christmas stuff for instance.  We had 3 rubber-made bins designated to this holiday that consumes (pun intended) one month of our life.  Under my matrix, I decided we could have one bin.  Anything we want and don't have once the holiday arrives can be purchased at the second hand store, which is usually overwhelmed with red and green items.  

A fantastic article on storage units in America can be found at: 

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/09/06/magazine/06self-storage-t.html?cp=1&sq=storage+units+magazine&st=nyt

If I sound righteous, I shouldn't.  I come by this downsizing effort honestly.  I've been a "stuff" person nearly all my life.  I wish I could show you a photo of the home I occupied in my 20's.  It was CRAMMED FULL of stuff.  It has been incredibly hard to part with many of my things.  But once I did, I felt so liberated!

Money Money Money

The groovy roof line=added expense.

Obviously money is a big part of any construction project.  For some projects more than others.  For us, it is where the "rubber meets the road."  I'd like to say we built a tiny house just because it was the right thing to do, but I should be clear here:  we built this house because it was all we could afford.  Even a little more than we could afford....

Hopefully I won't scare any readers away when I say the construction budget is a great metaphor for marriage.    We built our first home together when we were dating 7 years ago and felt that if we could build a house, we could build a marriage.  I don't think we were that far off.

With limited funds you must decide what your priorities are as a couple.  Sometimes you have to let go of your ideas to come up with a solution that will work for both of you.  Do I sound like a marriage counselor? We are lucky in that we agree it's worth it to put good money into stuff you can't see: tight framing, excellent insulation, ventilation, triple pane windows.  But, all this stuff adds up.  Then you get to the stuff you do see and have no money left! Which is why we've lived on plywood floors for a good part of our marriage.  Is is too much to ask for finished floors?  For siding? For a complete lighting package?  Should we take our friend Ray's advice and just pay the money and do it right?  I believe his words were: "Cry once and buy the right thing.  Don't keep crying over and over again because you have the wrong thing."

We incurred debt on this home in a sketchy real estate climate, and constantly ask ourselves, how could we have made it less expensive?  We don't want debt!  Well, we could of built a box and it would have been cheaper.   But look at that super sweet roof line!  In addition to being energy efficient, this home will be beautiful for generations.  We could of bought cheap goods at home depot and ripped them out next year when either they broke or we hated them.  But that's wasteful (and stupid).  We could be living on plywood again.  But as I know from experience: then you will always be living on plywood.   So, we tried to do it right with this one, agreeing to pay for it now, not later.

701 Gilpin Street Part 2

I did have one other concern about the house.  The prior tenant claimed to have heat bills that were $1200/month.  Yikes!  That's like a mortgage payment!  We descended on the house with foam guns and caulking: replacing windows, weatherizing, and even walling off and decommissioning an entire wing with a bedroom and bathroom.  Our bills ended up being $125-175/month.  The two year old still ran around naked, and we were warm enough with our down coats on.

Here is my principal question after moving out: why wasn't this home good enough for us?  Why did we have to build another?  Our basic shelter needs were met here: we (usually) had running water, functioning sewer, and a leak-free roof.  The greatest hardships I experienced here were dish-pan hands, higher gas bills than I wanted and a grumbly husband who had to service the frozen pipes and roof leaks.  Not exactly a horrible life.

I remember an epiphany I had while I pursued my education in sustainable construction: the greenest house is the one you don't build.  Constructing anything means using more energy, resources, carbon, and money than that dwelling can ever give back.  Even LEED buildings fall under this category.  So why not keep 701 Gilpin?  It's still working as a house.  Why tear it down and build another?

I'd like to think it's because we're trying to get better--that we are trying to update a housing stock that is becoming obsolete.  There is a movement underway called the "Living Building Challenge."  Living Buildings are to be designed in such a way as to function as organisms--regenerating their environment. Pretty heady stuff.  See: http://ilbi.org/  Under this definition, 701 is not a living building.

I'll end on a somewhat humorous note.  When we applied for a demolition permit, the home had to undergo review with the local Historical Commission.  Their summary, "Since the building has no known individual historical significance, does not contribute to a proposed district, no longer contributes to the distinguishing characteristics of the neighborhood, and does not retain integrity.." demolition is allowed.

701 Gilpin Street Part 1

First, I need to express my deep gratitude to the home on 701 Gilpin Street for not only housing us, but sheltering many others since its construction in 1940.  In so many ways it has done its job as a dwelling.  

I do not say this next thing lightly: it is 2011, oil is over $100 a barrel,  and this home's job is coming to an end.  

701 Gilpin.  Uncut. One naked baby on my hip and another in my belly.

When we first purchased this property I was clear that I would never never never live in the house on it.  It was fairly scary to me.  For instance, the neighbors affectionately refer to it as the, "asbestos spider ranch."  (They didn't share this name with me until after we moved in. Thanks guys.)  Yes, it contains asbestos and spiders.  The asbestos is safely contained and the spiders, contrary to the last tenants claims, are NOT Black Widows. 

The more we wanted to move to town, and build a little place on the lot, the more this home became a possibility for us. (What is that my friend Sarah always says about the word "never"?!?) We called our renters to see if we could do a walk-through and make a decision. 

It was pretty rough: broken windows, one of which was replaced by Plexiglass and cardboard, a stove with two broken burners, leaky faucets, a broken toilet top, another toilet falling through the floor, rotting wood in the shower surround, sagging ceilings and floors throughout, nasty carpet, holes in the floor, a bee bee gun target in the living room, a bullet hole in the front door glass, tons of junk all over the lot including a water heater, a mattress, 5 broken bikes, tires, dumb-bells (?), an old Pepsi machine (??).  I should stop.  We sound like slum lords.  This is the truth: OUR RENTERS LOVED THIS PLACE!!  We had a group of guys living here for 10 years before we owned it and they called it home.  For them it was ideal: inexpensive rent, close to town, and not fussy.  For a family with two small children, it didn't seem so ideal.  Specifically, the broken windows and the holes in the floor had me worried.

Breaking Ground

Up our home came out of the ground.  We were lucky enough to have the aforementioned "dilapidated" home on the same lot, and we lived there for 10 months while we built.  (Don't fret readers!  Some doozy photos of this home to follow, along with diatribe on building with energy costs in mind, not to mention a tape measure and a level.)  For parents of two year olds, I can't recommend enough having excavating equipment working  in your front yard all summer.  The excavating contractor was Mason's hero.    And I loved being able to buzz over and help Scott when my mom helped with the kids. Thanks Mom! 

Scott worked every single day for 10 months.  I was glad he was close by. The details involved in construction are phenomenal and nearly all of our time together was spent making decisions related to the home.  We spent a lot of time in the initial design phase, as drawing such a small space for a family proved challenging.  Specifically,  fitting two bedrooms in 629 sf was hard.  Scott will write more on design later, as he is the one who did that work.  My point right now is that we were in framing before we really rolled up our sleeves to make choices on products.  The days were spent building and the nights were at the computer researching and choosing....not my forte.  I'd rather be working on site.

 I was in charge of taking the home through the local Green Building Program.  We are the second home in Routt County and the first one in the City of Steamboat to enter the program.  It is a holistic approach to building, focusing on Energy Efficiency, Resource Conservation, Water Conservation, Site Protection, and a Healthy Home.  We are required to have a third-party inspect and test the home to make sure we do what we say we will do.  We hired Chad Faegler with Mountain Energy Consultants to do the rating, verification, and testing.  Our initial HERS rating, based on a plan take-off is at 72, which is 28% better than the average code-built home.   We obviously hope to bring it in even lower.  Our energy bill calculation is at $240.00 a year.  HECK YEA!!!  Compare that to the house next door at $125.00 per month.  I think my next post will be on that house.  I need to get it out of my system....

We are in town!

This is our little family.  Scott, Megan, Mason (2) and Fergus (9mos).  A year ago we were living on 35 acres in a 1700 square-foot home 17 miles out of town.  After much soul searching we decided this life was not realistic nor sustainable for us.  We had lots of space, garden potatoes and home-canned goods, but we were driving to the tune of 70 miles per day, and I was getting lonely during my long days at home with the kiddos.   As much as I wanted to be a "stay at home-steader," I am just not cut of that cloth.

Enter Steamboat Springs, the "little city" 17 miles down the road.  For its small population of 12,000 it has a lot to offer a small family: two ski areas, two hot springs, a recreation facility WITH childcare, rivers, mountains, trains, trails, parks, an amazing library, and most importantly, other growing families.  Yet, as with most desireable places, it is a very expensive place to make your life.  In 2009 the median home value was $482,914, with the average wage around $30,000.  Buying a typical 3 bedroom/2 bath home was way out of our league.  So, we started brain-storming.  Rent?  We are always averse to this.  Move somewhere else?  Just for a house?  That seemed dramatic.

We had a couple of things on our side: we bought an investment property (with a very dilapidated house on it)  in town with my mom 5 years ago.    We own a construction company.  I have a background in sustainable construction.  However, we had very little capital with which to build.  And, we were not certain real estate is a great investment at this time.  But, we needed a dwelling.  Our company could use another home for the portfolio, specifically a sustainably built one.  And the kids needed a construction site to cut their teeth on.

We decided to build the smallest, most sustainable dwelling we could afford.  Scott designed a 629 square-foot apartment above a garage custom made for us.  We entered it as the second home in the local Green Building Program.  And we broke ground while holding our breath........