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engineers

Home Building Horrors, Hope and Happiness

by

keep calm and ask an engineer

We’re building a new house. People warned us. They said it would ruin our marriage, cost more than the builder’s original estimate, and take much longer than expected. Well, they were mostly right. I’m happy to say our relationship remains intact!

But the whole process has been an eye-opener. We’re now five months into it but nowhere near as far along as we’d hoped. Why the delays? Well, first there was the rain. We had the rainiest summer in years.

Once the foundation trench was dug, it promptly filled with water. We called it “The Moat.” Geese would land and frolic in the Lollar wetlands. And once my hard working husband bailed gallons of water, it would rain and fill the trench right up again. He must have bailed water on at least 5-10 occasions along with putting a pump into action.

Once the rain abated, there was the matter of setting the drainage pipes around the foundation. But the contractor we had didn’t believe in quality work. When we tried to encourage him to up his game, he got porky and quit.

So my hard working hubby took the reins and tackled the job himself. He worked every day and into the night. There were a few times he was working in the dark until past midnight. I was a construction widow.

Doug Takes the Reins

The process wasn’t easy. Doug had to widen the trenches the contractor had dug, then lay down lengths of fabric that spanned the bottom and up the sides of the trench. After that he had to shovel in crushed rock and place the drainage pipe on top of the rock. Hauling the rock was laborious since he had to scoop it out of the bed of the truck and place it into buckets to lower down into the trench. He worked his way all around the footprint of the house and garage — about 320 feet.

Once the pipe was laid down he had to haul more crushed rock to cover it up, then wrapped the fabric like a burrito around the rock and pipe. On top of that went the dirt. It took him weeks of working in the hot sun to get this job done. And now we have more rain, which is going to delay the back-fill process and placing of the concrete basement floor and garage pad.

I have newfound admiration for my wonderful husband. He wanted the job done right and was willing to put his back into it. He wore through ten pairs of gloves and shoveled 10 1/2 tons of stone. He grew muscles in places he’d never had them before.

He had also constructed the septic system. You remember the story about the septic tank, right? That project took months of work. Then, after he had put in the chambers and pipe leading out to the leach field, we had a terrible hail storm, which drilled numerous holes in each pipe. So his choice was either to dig out and replace the pipes, which would have cost over $1000 or do a patch job. He opted for the patch job. There are three pipelines and each one has taken days of back breaking work to patch each hole.

A Major Project

Building this house has become more of a project than either one of us imagined it would be. In the meantime we’ve picked out kitchen cabinets, windows and doors. That process had quite a few iterations. Early on we spent days drawing up plans for the architect to then formalize. And we spent more days to select a lender for the loan. It’s been a huge investment in time and we’re far from being done.

After I lost my house in the wildfire, I remember all the decisions that had to be made to get the new house built. But I didn’t have to do any of the foundation or septic work. I was blissfully ignorant of what went on below ground.

Still, I’m excited about the new house. I’ve been in our present house almost ten years now. And Doug, being an engineer, has wanted to build something with better design features and a little more room. When I drew up the plans for this home, I hadn’t yet met Doug, so the walk-in closet wasn’t designed for more than one person. Surprise! I met the love of my life!

The new house is projected to be done in May/June 2024. So we’ll have a very busy Spring. I’ll keep you posted as the building process proceeds. Wish us luck!

The Engineer’s Wife

by

I married an engineer.

You’re talking to a woman who doesn’t balance her checkbook, goes by the rule “good enough IS enough” and cooks by the seat of her pants. As my former boss knows all too well, the term “planning” is anathema to me. Risk assessment is a phrase I’ve never much dwelled on. Project management scares me silly and “measure twice, cut once” is a lesson I still haven’t learned.

Enter my wonderful husband, Doug.

He balances his checkbook to the penny, glories in the magic of spreadsheets, color codes his calendar and keeps emails longer than I’ve kept tax records.

I’ve learned a lot in the four short years we’ve been married.

For example: it’s “soil” not dirt; it’s “concrete” not cement; and it’s “fuel” not gas.

I’ve grown used to pillow-talk on Subsurface Utility Engineering, foundation design, reinforced concrete slab, erosion control BMP (best management practices), traffic control device spacing and signal timing.

Oooo, baby! Whisper it to me slowly!

When we read in bed, I’m absorbed in Jerry Jenkins’ Left Behind books. Doug is knee deep in Reinforced Concrete Design.

We have baggies of “soil” all over the house and a jar of dirt and water measuring the separation of clay and sand. The official name is “Sediment Suspension Test” in case you were wondering. The jar sits among other decorative items on our fireplace mantle. While Doug observes sediment layers measured in centimeters, I see an image of snow covered sage bushes.

He’s planning a leach field for our future home and texts me love notes of holes in the ground with protruding measuring implements. Last year for Christmas I got him the Survey Linker Rod he asked for. I call it a BMS – Big Measuring Stick.

Our dinner conversations are all about perc tests and clay deposits.

The garage is now organized with every rake and shovel and broom in their own special spot. A tennis ball hangs to indicate the exact spot to park the car. Tools nest in drawers according to size and function.

When I hang a picture on the wall, it’s a hit or miss process. He’ll measure from stem to stern (he’s a Navy guy) to find the right place for the nail. I marvel at how he only needs one hole to do the job right.

Yet, I’m the fussy one when it comes to loading the dishwasher. I re-arrange to get maximum cleanliness. And God help anyone who puts plates in the wrong spot. I’m sensitive to water flow and soap dispersion, ya know.

Together we make a great pair. We poke fun at our quirks and find plenty to laugh about. I love his wit and sense of humor. He puts up with my penchant to collect books, boxes and old furniture.

I call him “Cookie Monster” ‘cause he sneaks out of bed at night to raid the pantry. He calls me “Blondie” although these days, it’s more a pet name than a fact.

We’re lucky we found each other. And he’s the best Cabin Dude this Cabin Mama could ever have hoped for!

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