With the help of an incredibly enormous ladder borrowed from our neighbor, we finished a major chunk of the siding last week. This is something that has been weighing on Jesse’s mind for a long time, and so it is a huge relief to have it done. We had gotten so used to seeing the cabin half-finished and covered in tar paper, it is sort of surreal to have it fully covered, our little sassafras home.
Jesse finished the back side of the house last week, and it is pretty awesome – basically because from a certain angle the cabin looks completely done! It is fun to be able to picture the end product. Only one more side and the gables to finish!
We had a very productive, construction-filled weekend. We finally started work on the bathroom. This project has seriously been at the top of the to-do list for months…it is amazing how the vegetables always seem to trump EVERYTHING ELSE in the summer. So with colder weather and less garden responsibilities, we were able to build a frame for the outhouse, knock out another large portion of the siding, and make some cedar windowsills for the cabin. It continues to blow my mind how small things make such a big difference in the house. These little windowsills covered up the remaining visible traces of drywall, and the living room instantly looked cozy, warm, and finished. Rustic, yes, but almost sort of kind of finished.
Naturally, we dedicated much of our spare time and effort this year to getting into the cabin. We got it livable, and in effect, made ourselves at home. Of course, there is still plenty––PLENTY––left to do to “finish” it (you know, like getting water inside and such), but now that we’re living in the cabin and comfortable, we’ve found a little bit more time to spend working on other projects around the property. For one, getting our gardens going.
The other day we planted our elephant garlic (whose flowers will double as one of our favorite ornamentals in the spring) in our no-till, front yard garden. We’re prepping the high tunnel to take on a bunch of food next year, envisioning peas growing up the skeleton, tomatoes under the remaining plastic. The broadfork is about to see some serious work again. Plans for a small greenhouse are being sketched and, although I recognize this isn’t about gardens, I continue to haul the chainsaw into the woods and clear what I can for future pasture and future animals (not to be mistaken with futuristic animals, but I wouldn’t rule it out either). In fact, we even preemptively purchased our first solar charger and fencing so whenever we’re ready to get animals––pigs, goats, who knows––we’ll be ready. We’re still not sure what our market plans are for next year, but we know we’ll be able to supply more and more of the food we sell from right outside our front door. The farmstead is coming along.