Change of Plans...

No, we haven't changed our minds about rebuilding a cabin. Just a change of the plans for the cabin. The contractor we met with during our last trip, Brian Shelton, has gently revised my amateur drawings, one step at a time. And they're good changes.

We first contacted Brian via his company's website in mid-August. I'd spent the time since we'd gotten back from the trailer in early July with my graph paper, thinking through our needs in relationship to how much we had to spend. I poured through cabin books and looked for plans online, stealing ideas. By the time we were ready to send the design out for bids I had 13 documents -- floor plans, elevations, electrical plans (for godssake), and a six page narrative specifying materials. It takes a brave builder to deal with that. We had several discussions on the phone with Brian post-contacting him and pre-trip. He'd voiced concern about my roof and suggested more of a Cape Cod style. Of course I knew that would change the way we'd access the loft, which would change the kitchen, which would change... "Let me show you the drawings when we meet," said Brian.

When Brian arrived the day after we'd gotten to the trailer it was glorious weather. A comfortably warm, sunny afternoon, just a bit of breeze, huge cumulus sailing by like ships. We were able to use the picnic table on the deck under the awning; what could be a better venue for the initial steps in rebuilding the cabin? Brian pulled out the plans and I pounced on them. Well, it's still 20'x32' I thought, and the living room still faces the best view. For weeks I had been living inside the cabin I designed, moving around in it, cooking, entertaining, sleeping, reading -- this was like being teleported to a new locale. I had a bit of whiplash. But then I really looked at the plans. The kitchen had a much better work triangle, the bedroom was bigger with better storage, there was no space wasting hall, and the stairs to the loft would be a lovely focal point for the cabin. The roof still soared, but at the center, not to one side, and with a knotty pine ceiling it promised to make for a cosier feel. There were some details to work out, but I could see how much better Brian's design would be. And all my work had not been in vain. Not only was it terrific fun and had given Brian a good idea of what we were trying to accomplish, I'd thought through so many aspects of living in the cabin that I recognized a terrific plan when I saw it.


Brian spent the whole afternoon with us, reviewing the plans and walking the property with us, discussing the county application process, wells vs. cisterns, septic systems, material options, construction schedules, and where our efforts could help save us money. One of the things that had appealed to us about Brian was his philosophy of welcoming owner participation, both as a way of saving money and for the owner to feel more personally invested in his new home -- sweat equity, not just financial investment. My husband had helped build the first cabin that stood on this spot over 45 years ago, and he wanted to be involved in this one too. We'd felt good each time we talked with Brian on the phone -- he was relaxed and enthused about our project, responsive and full of terrific ideas. After the day at the trailer we knew we'd found our builder.

By the time we left Colorado we'd met with Brian one more time for the hand-off of the latest rendition of the drawings. We've been through one more iteration, slightly changing the dimensions of the cabin to 20'x34', giving us two more feet of width in the kitchen, which will be the heart of the house. I love to cook and entertain and we have many friends in the area we enjoy sharing time with, and a meal is usually involved, and friends farther afield are already making plans to visit. Also, we are hoping the cabin will again become a hub for family gatherings, and this kitchen will allow for lots of people to participate in prepping and cooking the next family feast, from both sides of the kitchen counter.

There's room for a large table to gather around, and space to cosy up near the wood burning stove. The loft will have room for many sleeping pads and the landing a space for the little ones to spy on the adults below. Our window to living space ratio is high, but when we're not outside, we want to see outside, and we'll have views of every direction in the cabin. The deck space is also extravagant, only slightly smaller than the main floor, and it wraps around three sides of the cabin, including the very important shady afternoon side with its up close and fascinating view of the voluptuous 25 foot red rocks flanking the cabin to the east. And yes, the railing facing the view will be a bench, just as it was in the cabin that burned. Even with a full house and more, there will be space for everyone to find a place to sit and enjoy the view or a good book. And that's important.

With the reality of rebuilding the cabin upon us, we're facing some interesting changes. After so many years of being so careful, so frugal really -- still driving our decade-plus old cars, considering a trip to the Costco food court for a hot dog a "date", and socking away all we could, it is a shock to stop the deferred comp and talk about selling investments to fund the building of the cabin. But we know, in our heads and in our hearts, that this is the right thing to do. Our plans are to spend at least four months a year in this new second home, avoiding the activity-limiting searing heat of the desert during the summer, and providing us a healthy outdoor lifestyle filled with nature and motion in the two places we love best on earth.

When do we start!!!???