This is normally a comic-book related site.  Not right now, though.

I decided to build a house.  That doesn’t mean I’m shopping around for real estate.  I’m going to design, contract, and build a house all on my own.  This means I have to study building codes and learn about permits and do a lot of research on furnace efficiency and r-value and carpet fiber and refrigerators and wind direction and toilet height and backsplashes… I simply won’t have time for Tiny Life any time soon.

So, probably through 2015, the majority of these posts will be about building a house.  And possibly about living with the In-Laws while the house is built.

A(nother) Delay

Yes, we should be moved into the house by now.  But this one’s a doozy:

This is the original house design.

Most of the houses in my neighborhood were built in the 40s and 50s.  It’s because of this that I designed my house to be classy (before we bought the land, my original plan was to have a lot of neon lights with “live nude girls”).  Unfortunately, because this system is so old, a few things have been forgotten along the way.  Like sewer access.

Each parcel of land (or possible future parcel) has its own “stub” into the main sewer line; the township does this when they (or whoever) install the sewer.  Apparently, though, the parcel of land that I bought was not parceled properly, so I have no sewer access.  This means one of two things:

  1. I can pay someone to hook a sewer line from my house to the road, and then burrow under the road 100 feet to the nearest manhole, at which point someone would physically go into the sewer and make a connection.  So far, I have yet to find anyone willing to do this.
  2. My wife might have IBS, but I’m the one that cries a little every time I poop.

    I can pay someone to hook a sewer line from my house to the road, get a permit to shut down the road, dig out the road, dig fifteen feet down to the sewer, get a permit to stop the sewer, install a new “stub”, fill in the hole, and repair the road.  I found someone will to do this for just shy of $11,000.  With the $9000 water permit and the $6500 electrical hook-up, I’m looking at over $26000 for the ability to shit in my house at night.

After three weeks of research, I was finally able to talk to the township engineer.  He came out, noticed that the vacant land to the south of me (in a flood plain, I might add) had two “stubs”, and said that he would sign off on me using their sewage access.

But goddamn is that a lot of paperwork.

Over the last two weeks, after getting several permits, one of which is an addendum to my deed to be recorded by the county, I should finally be able to finish this thing up.

I’ve been at my In-Law’s exactly 13 months.

Almost Done House Tour

We still need a few more things (carpet, sewer hook-up, a driveway), but it’s just about done:

The Bus

I’m sure I’ve mentioned “The Bus” on this site more than once.  It’s my family’s “cabin”.  It’s a 1960s bus that broke down in the middle of the state, so we pushed it into the woods and turned it into a refuge (in that only refugees would want to sleep in it).

I’ve spent some serious time there.  Thanksgivings, birthdays, hunting trips, fishing trips… eventually though, because much of my family is so sad (my brother used to live there and my cousins would go there for extended vacations), The Bus became dilapidated from misuse and neglect.  Because no one really wants it, everyone gave it to my younger brother who decided to take it down.

So this week, we disassembled it (by “we” I mean “my mom and my younger brother”; I helped out for a serious 90 minutes); the junk has been junked, the reusable stuff has been reused, and the metal has been scrapped.

This is after the siding had been ripped off, the lean-to knocked down, and the steering wheel ripped out.

On a side-note (and more to the point of why I hate lawyers), we couldn’t have The Bus – which has been sitting in this spot since 1967 – just towed out because no one has a title.  The State needs a title from a passenger bus that doesn’t work and has been sitting in the same place for almost 50 years because they have to make sure sure no one else has a claim to it.  So we hired a guy with a torch and a flat-bed.

Nut Sack Sale!

363 types of nuts, none of them cinnamon. They have "fiery blueberry wasabi".

363 types of nuts, none of them cinnamon. They have “fiery blueberry wasabi”.

I love cinnamon nuts.  It’s one of the few things that I will eat a pound of, if allowed.  Unfortunately, no one sells them anymore.  Except Menards, the hardware store.

Whenever I go in there, I will buy one small bag.  Since I’m building a house, I’ve been buying a lot.  Today I saw this:


Pretty cool, ya?  I thought about buying a bunch of them.  But I’ve bough so many lately that I knew it didn’t sound like much of a sale.  So I looked on my phone to find a previous picture of the nuts (I was going to write an article on how, like chocolate chip ice cream, no one sells cinnamon nuts, but they’re always sold out).  Here’s what I found:


Take a look at the price tag on a non-sale day.

That’s right.  I had to pay one more penny for these nuts when they’re on sale.

I Have the Plumber!

No water yet, but I have everything that will delver it to me:

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I Have the Power!


  • Read about the first six weeks of this here.
  • Read about the second six weeks here.
  • Read about the last three weeks here.

As I turned the corner on my daily trip to the New House, I saw this:


As I turned to go in my driveway, I saw this:


After I pooped myself, I went inside and saw this:

photo 2

I have lights.  I have plugs.

As soon as I can flush the toilets, I’m moving in.


We had to put Shamus to sleep today.  He’s been sick for a while (as a matter of fact, two years ago, the vet said we might not make it another week).

Here’s a little tribute:

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