After drawing our little home a bajillion times, I started drawing the floor plan into elevations and found out that windows were in really weird places and the the roof line was REALLY getting helter skelter.
But at least it stopped me before we were left with the new house version of a red-headed step-child or negro spaceship. I tried moving things around to accommodate symmetry and shit just got worse and worse and looser and looser.
So I started all over again. Beach Box. Simple. Small. Condensed. Focused.
And this is what I came up with.
It matches all the criteria we need to meet, it’s simple and small and hopefully Miss Carol won’t find too many things to change.
We’re still waiting on the engineered drawings for our septic system that’ll allow us get the Soil Disturbance Permit, which’ll allow us to get the Septic Permit, and the Well Permit, and hopefully, at some distant point on the horizon, our personal Holy Grail- The BUILDING PERMIT.
Can it possibly ever be true?
Oh, and then shit, I just found out we may need a CAMA permit. Not quite sure what that one is yet, but I’m guessin’ it’s more folks wantin’ some money.
My head reels.
So on Saturday I went down and mowed the lot and I was feeling sorry for myself and wondering when, if ever, we would begin construction, thinking back to my overly optimistic summer prediction that we’d be under way by mid-October.
So I mowed, spittin’ grass, kinda pissed that the world wouldn’t adhere to my timetable, when all the sudden, a thought bubble burst -I wasn’t JUST mowing- I was doing preliminary SITE WORK.
The warm channels of my brain lit up and just like that I was back on track.