It’s no surprise there are heaps of decisions to make about our house. At the moment, it seems most of them involve wood.

A big pile of it arrived at our site this week: roof trusses and other bits to build our stick frame garage. The snowy show goes on, and John says it will likely be finished within a couple of weeks. It’s amazing to me that an entire structure (minus windows, doors, and siding) can exist out of nothing in such a short time.

I’m strangely comforted thinking about having a building to call our own again, no matter how uninhabitable it will be. It will give us a place to keep our snowshoes between treks around the point and we’ll be able to store a lot of materials there. This means we can start shopping!

And we have…

With timber samples, some pine we were considering for the ceiling, and plans in tow, we met Blayne from Prairie Barnwood on Saturday at his Winnipeg condo/showroom.

(more…)

John gets credit for this post’s title. He recently said the ride we’re on is like a pendulum, swinging from sheer bliss (OK, that’s my word) that our build is underway, to utter panic about a range of potential mistakes and problems.

Here’s a rundown of what’s furrowing our brows:

1. The height of the building.
Now that the rest of the ICF forms have been Lego-ed on, we can see the full height of our basement walls. The top of them is where the main floor starts. And holy moly.

(more…)

Today I had an opportunity to be alright with good enough. I baked muffins yesterday for our builder and his crew, none of whom I have met yet. (This really bugs me, but so far I can’t seem to get to the lot when they’re there). For days I’d looked forward to making my trusty banana chocolate chips, envisioning bringing a little extra pleasure to their rainy day and finally connecting with them in some way.

But when these muffins came out of the oven, they looked like no others I’d made before. They were extremely white. And bland.

It didn’t take me long to figure out the problem. First, I forgot to use half whole wheat flour, which I’ve done for years (I’ve been cooking and baking gluten-free and vegan for so long, I guess I’m out of practice), and second, the recipe wasn’t exactly the one I usually use.

Our Year of Hell during this build may be slightly more hellish because most of our belongings are sealed in boxes while we rent. It’s clear after yesterday that I didn’t perfectly anticipate all the things we would need during this time.

The recipe I found online claimed to be Company’s Coming’s version of banana muffins, but right away I knew it wasn’t quite the same one I’ve used so much I should have it memorized. I decided to go for it anyway. I know now I would have been smart to listen to my instinct to add the vanilla that wasn’t in the ingredient list, and maybe swap butter for the cooking oil. (I am always reluctant to change recipes, especially when baking, for fear they won’t turn out).

So, the quandary: Do I dig my tried and true recipe out of a box of unknown location and make more muffins, or do I share the albino batch and hope the guys won’t live in fear of my future baked offerings?

The decision: With each doughy bite, I am more resolved these muffins will not find their way into the mouth of anyone else but John; I won’t even share them with friends who know I can bake. They’re just not good enough.

Ready or not, we’re building a house.

I can’t think of a project with greater perfectionism pressure than building the home in which we hope to raise a family and spend the greyest of our years. This is a lot to ask of a single building – particularly one on the Canadian Shield. The opportunities to screw it up are many and what really stops me in my snowshoe tracks is this thought: I will have to live with any costly mistakes for The Rest Of My Life.

We’ve been planning this build since we bought our gorgeous property on the Winnipeg River. Planning, however, is a loose term when talking about my involvement. My husband has spent nearly every night of the last three years online and on the phone, researching windows, heating systems, siding, flooring, stone for the fireplace and exterior accents, water systems, and the R-value of SIP panels. Meanwhile, I’ve kept my nose in a novel and said no or I don’t like it to most of what he offers as options. Saying no means we haven’t committed to a possible mistake. See how this works?

It’s clear if I was doing this on my own, the house would never get built. Ever. But thanks to John, here we are: amazing plan in hand, builder hired, and our first pour of concrete curing.

(more…)