Saturday, February 11, 2012

And the arrow points to ... GO!

My head is spinning: We can't do it. Yes we can. No, we really can't. Oh, wait! We can! Nope, it's too much, we just can't do it.

BUT. I did meet with our lending lady, and she was very helpful: It's all a matter of where we put the money that we have. (She didn't tell me that, specifically; I figured it out while talking with her.) Paying off our current mortgage is not the best use of that money, since we need actual cash -- lots of actual cash -- to build the house (and even if we wait a year, we'll still need that money). It seems that we have enough money to do this, weirdly enough, unless something catastrophic happens, though the budget will be squeaky-tight when all is said and done and we're settled in with the new mortgage. It's the new mortgage that I've been worrying about mostly, and I'm not sure whether my change of heart regarding affordability is because I've loosened up on what I think is affordable, or whether the new mortgage really is not as huge as I'd been predicting. I know for sure that every time I visit the land, the serenity of that spot fills me and helps me realize that whatever stress the new mortgage causes will be largely offset by living in such a peaceful setting. And the enthusiasm of the entire building team doesn't hurt, either. But if anyone needs a technical writer or an editor, I'd certainly be up for some part-time work ...

So we're going forward, and we're building a passive house. We met a passel of Hammer & Hand guys at the land on Friday, and they staked out where the house will be. Skylar has a solar gain app on his phone, and he scanned our treeline with it, pointing out which trees have to go as Sam marked them with orange spray paint. I got there late (after taking the boys to school) and when I made my way down to the guys I learned I was standing in my future bedroom (on my future bed). I can't wait to be standing on the same spot, but inside the actual house!

Now that we all know we're going ahead, things are starting to move. Next week will bring well potability and flow tests and tree removal estimates. I think it's time for me to turn in the actual loan paperwork, as well, to make sure I don't hold up the process once things are really rolling.

Holy cow. Here we go ...

Sunday, February 5, 2012

The rollercoaster ...

I should've known to not get so excited. Sigh. On Friday we met with our Hammer & Hand team, and Sam gave us the latest numbers: more exact costing, and then a separate column with what the costing will be if we actually want a passive house. I think we had unintentionally eliminated the thought of building a passive house because it's more expensive; the numbers we were aiming for previously were not passive house numbers (which we knew), though they were for a fairly energy-efficient home. Now, not only did those numbers go up with more precise costing, but Sam threw in passive house numbers, which of course are even higher. It's higher, but it's also worth it: Whatever extra we spend in building a passive house, we'll make up for in complete lack of energy costs. The break-even point is 15 years, which is quite a ways from now, but every day from that point on is a profitable day for us. And we would love love love to build a passive house.

A passive house has been our ideal all along -- though we weren't sure it was within our reach -- and seeing the possibility of a passive house in the house plans we're so excited about is tantalizing, to say the least. The problem is that now, as a passive house, it is once again out of reach. Most likely. It is conceivable that we could afford this house; the problem is that we wouldn't know that until it was built and our current house has sold. There are so many variables that affect whether we can afford this house: the actual cost of building (we have a lot of estimates), how long it takes to sell our current house, what our current house sells for, what our stock options will be worth when they're vested this summer, what kind of tax/government incentives we get for building a passive house, and so on. And none of this includes unexpected contingencies. Even if it all pans out, our budget would be tight. And we know that any sane person, looking at our budget and the cost of this house, would tell us we can't afford it. So we really can't build this house as a passive house. And we just don't want to build the house if it's not the right house.

Just in case, though, I'm going to meet with our lending lady and go over the numbers to see if I'm missing anything. I'm trying to be as detailed and realistic as possible, but I've never done this before.

We might try waiting a year and seeing how the budget shakes down. There are risks, such as that the all-time low construction-loan interest rate might rise. Other costs could go up or down. With the money we've put aside for building, we could pay off our current mortgage and save the interest we currently pay, and tuck all that away for building next year.

Too many variables. Too many unknowns. Argh.

Monday, January 9, 2012

Santa comes through!

We are very fortunate. As my neighbor Claudia told me when I mentioned our budget dilemma, "These are first-world problems." Although some would say that's trivializing the situation, I say it's putting it in perspective. We currently have a fine, warm house (with heated toilet seats!), plenty of organic food, college funds and healthy, active kids. Life is good. The perfect house is just icing on the massive cake of life.

And life is even better now, since Bryan's dad is helping us out with just enough that we can build the house. Ho ho ho! His support is invaluable.

Which takes an enormous burden off of us. We will still be tight, and we still won't have fancy-pants fixtures, but that we can manage. At least we can build the house -- all of it. Including walk-in closets. After reading my last blog, Bryan said he hadn't considered walk-in closets in that light -- keeping the mess out of the bedroom and, more important for us, allowing one partner to sleep in peace while the other dresses. At that point, he became focused on adding walk-ins -- and we're pretty sure we can do it now. We penciled it into our plans, and I explained it to Architect Rick. These closets will make the house bigger, of course, which will add cost -- but also functionality. And we won't find ourselves saying, "I wish we had ... " about the closets, at least. The added size also means a few extra feet of excavation, though, and whatever additional cost that incurs.

We also decided to sacrifice square footage in the office to accommodate a walk-in pantry -- a small walk-in pantry, but a walk-in pantry nonetheless. (The office and the pantry are back-to-back, comprising one unit of square footage that we can divvy up at will between them.) So the sacrifice changes from no walk-in pantry to a very small office. As in only big enough for my (very large teak) desk and my file cabinet, hopefully with shelves lining the walls, though since they won't be built-ins (can't afford them), they'll take up valuable square footage. This is not at all what I'd envisioned for my office, but the beauty of this scheme is that if I really hate it, we can move an interior wall and steal space back from the pantry. However, I currently have a very small work space as my desk (that dreaded desk niche in the kitchen, aaugh), so anything with actual space will be better. And a door. A real door that closes so that I can lock out the kids while I finish just one (please! only one!) measly task.

So things are definitely looking up. I am less stressed, though certainly still anxious. I woke up the other night (before Nelson's gift was official) at about 2 a.m., and my arm and head positioning were just right so that I could clearly hear my own heartbeat -- and it was racing faster than a putt-putt engine at full acceleration; almost as if someone with a way better Spanish accent than me was rolling their Rs in my chest. It occurred to me that this is a hell of a lot of anxiety and I might not survive building this house, much less the night. But then it also occurred to me that I am healthy, strong and youngish, and I tend to be resilient. Millions of other people in worse shape than me have built houses and survived, so I'm sure I'll make it through as well. It reminded me, too, of the warning that people offer when a couple builds a house: Make sure you have a strong marriage, because building causes divorce. Thankfully, that is one source of stress that I'm not very concerned about: Bryan and I get along well, resolve issues well (usually) and tend to have the same taste. That last item alone might just save us! Communication is definitely the key, as always -- and although we've had a couple small communication gaps so far, Bryan is a good communicator and is almost equally good at bringing out the reluctant communicator in me. I just have to follow his lead and remain calm. Ommmmmm.

So in theory we'll meet with the team next week and get on with the next steps: blueprints and engineering, and testing the well for flow and potability. Progress!

Saturday, December 24, 2011

If I were a rich man (or woman) ...


... I could build the house I want without cutting anything out!

But we're not rich.

So we come to decision-making time. Last Friday we met with the team to review the latest version of the plans, which include the things we added last time (when the plans already maxed out the new version of our budget). The plans look great! But they're WAY (as in $60k) out of our budget now, and that is the highest budget we can possibly manage and still pay the mortgage when all is said and done. There are already a few compromises, such as no walk-in closets and no walk-in pantry. I like walk-in closets because they keep the mess of clothes, shoes and accessories contained and out of the main bedroom -- and because when one of us gets dressed while the other is sleeping, we can keep the bedroom dark and quiet. You can't do that when the closet is one wall of the bedroom. However, walk-in closets are more chunky spaces to work with, and when we're trying to minimize the corners in the shell of the house they become very impractical. That was a compromise that hadn't crossed my mind, but I'm okay with it.

I also really wanted a walk-in pantry. I love the idea of having all the kitchen stuff contained in one space, and having a place for our second fridge that isn't in the garage. (With two growing, athletic boys, we go through a lot of food -- and I make several trips a day to the garage fridge to replenish supplies.) However, there is plenty of storage space for anything that would go in a pantry, and we can even build in unobtrusive space for the second fridge. I can live with this.

But these are fairly small compromises compared to what we'll have to do to get within our budget, and this is where we're going to struggle. We can't afford top-of-the-line finishes -- floors, counters, cabinets, fixtures -- which is okay also, as we weren't headed that direction anyway. We renovated our current house when we moved back from Korea in 2006 and we still like the basic fixtures we picked out then. (Thankfully, we're not thrilled with the granite counters and can look for a more reasonable option.) We don't need custom cabinets, but we need strong cabinets. That won't be too much of a sacrifice for us.

But that won't cut it, either. We need large-scale savings to meet our budget, and one option that Sam offered us is to leave some parts of the house unfinished for now, and finish them as our budget allows in the future. That had been the plan for the finishes, too: If we want to upgrade the counters or floors later, we could do that as budget allows. However, the parts left unfinished would be major: the garage would be a carport for now; the patio/deck would be much reduced, as would the outdoor storage under it; and our guest bedroom and bathroom would be a mere shell (no bathroom fixtures at all). The question is, are we willing to do that? Would it be better just to wait another year or so, until we can afford to build the whole house? We could chop off entire rooms, but what would be the point in building a house if it's not the house we actually want?

Today is Christmas Eve, and my parents are in town. Last night we showed them the plans, and today we took them up to the land. I hadn't been up there for a month or so, since we started sweating over the budget. It was a great refresher to wander around on a sunny winter day, listen to the peace and quiet (the neighbor's dogs were suspiciously absent) and remember why we want to build there. It's beautiful! Yes, it will be worth it. It'll be worth the trade-offs, including (I think) one that plagues me: leaving a friendly neighborhood where my kids (and I) can find someone to play with or chat with by simply walking out the door. It'll be worth the budget strain, including the ongoing tighter budget once we have our new mortgage.

Last night, after looking at the plans, my dad got a bit misty thinking about us building a house and reminiscing about when he and my mom built their house. He remembered how stressful it is, and how tense he was over the budget for about five years when there wasn't much breathing room with the new mortgage. And he talked about how happy he still is with their decisions and their house, and his hopes that we will be equally happy. I think I needed to hear that.

But that still leaves us with some hard decisions, unless Santa comes through with some cold, hard cash (or a winning Lottery ticket). I'm trying not to stress about it too much over the holidays, but I'm failing. It's a big deal -- big decisions, big sacrifices. What to do, what to do? 

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Plans vs. Budget

Bryan and I have been discussing the layout of the house and the modifications we will have to make to our ideas to make this house affordable for us. I have had to give up on my desire to have both the master bedroom and the guest room on the main floor; that would make the upper floor quite a bit larger than the lower floor. One thing that will have a great impact on our cost is minimizing our roofline (the skin of the house is where the largest expense is), so to minimize our skin we need to make the two floors as similar in size as possible. After some thought, I've come to realize that having the master on the bottom (with the boys' bedrooms and the game room) and the guest room on the top (with the great room, kitchen, office and entries) would have benefits of its own -- if we do it right. For now, we could have our bedroom near the kids' rooms, which would be better for Cole for a couple more years, and when my parents visit they could stay on the main floor and not have to deal with stairs. (To be clear, they can manage stairs, but I don't want them to have to manage stairs.) Then, when Bryan and I are older and less able to get around well (much, much older, of course), we can move upstairs to the guest room and live comfortably on just that one level. However, to make that work we would need the guest room to be essentially a second master -- which makes it bigger. Which adds more square footage.

Last Thursday we met with Sid, Rick and Sam at the Hammer and Hand offices to discuss our plans. We hammered out (ha ha!) some of the basic concepts for our plans: Extra storage space built into the hill (north) side of the downstairs area (we need as much storage as possible, and hate to waste that potential space), bedroom sizes, adding an upstairs powder room, adding a pantry with room for a second fridge (we have hungry, growing boys and athletes in the house!), and the need for a real, actual office, as opposed to a nook. In addition, Bryan had sketched out some thoughts on an entry that's shared by both the front door and the garage access -- a way to access the mudroom from both entries, to minimize our piles of shoes and coats -- and we discussed that at length. All in all, the things we discussed will probably add at least an extra 100 square feet or so to the house, which of course will increase the cost. And this is on top of the fact that, as the plans stood last week, we were at our maximum budget and hadn't included paving the driveway or purchasing the appliances.

As we discussed the plans, we repeatedly mentioned the furniture that some of these rooms will be built around. We spent ten years in Asia, and during our six years in Indonesia we acquired quite a few large, teak pieces of furniture, as well as a few very cool pieces of hanging art. One piece of furniture is a huge desk, which is part of the reason we need an actual office. (But also because: 1. Bryan needs a place for his stuff, too, and therefore the office needs room for two people; and 2. I need to be able to close a door to keep the "Moooommmm!!" at bay while I balance the bank statements and buy Christmas presents online.) Although Sid and Sam have been to our current home and seen this furniture, Rick has not. We realized that it would be helpful if Rick could actually see all this furniture to cement the style and scope of our belongings in his mind. Since he wasn't able to make it out to our home this past week, I sent him photos of many of our furniture pieces (as well as some hanging artwork, for reference) with dimensions. Rick says he hopes they'll look like "little toys" on the plans. I can't wait to see it!

Partway through the meeting Skylar joined us to discuss the computer models of the solar options on our site. His job has been to run our site through his computer modeling and see what our solar gain is as the site stands currently and with various amounts of tree removal. Not surprisingly, our best bet for a low-energy, passive-style, southern-exposure, bright (which I need) house is to remove quite a few trees directly south of our build site. We understand this and even agree with it, but we're also battling our inner tree-hugging tendencies. We hate to take out trees! Thankfully, there are plenty of trees on our land and there's no need for all-out clearing -- but still we struggle with it.

Things are definitely coming together, and I'm getting more and more excited about our potential house. I'm relieved that our furniture and other art will be considered in the plans -- I want to make sure that we have good placement for at least the major items. Of course, the huge consideration now is the budget: We were pretty much over budget at the beginning of the last meeting, and we only added expense at that time. We did agree that we could take space from the really big great room and use that for the office and pantry, because although we want space for the extended family in the great room, we also don't want it to feel cavernous when there are only the four of us. (And, realistically, when the whole family is at our house, chances are good that the kids will be mostly downstairs anyway.) One of my jobs before our next meeting on Friday is to go over the budget again and figure out what is really possible. Naturally, when we returned home from our meeting last week and I looked at my budget notes I couldn't remember what I was doing, so I'll be re-crunching the numbers from the beginning. A call to our lender may be in order ...

Our next meeting is set for Friday the 16th, and I can't wait to see the plans. Of course, my very realistic fear is that our budget won't mesh with new plans -- I just hope the guys have some great ideas to make it work!

Friday, November 4, 2011

Let the plans begin!

In balmy 35-degree weather, we met Sam, Graham Wright (an expert on solar energy and characteristics),  Rick and Sid at the land this morning. Graham's purpose today was to evaluate the solar properties of our build site and help us quantify how much solar gain we can expect from the property as it is, and what to expect it to be if we remove some trees. Rick and Sid brought three iterations of potential house plan, varying slightly in size and layout. We compared the potential plans to the now-visible potential build site. As it turns out, the flat part at the top of the ridge is pretty narrow, which affects the way we will build the garage, and the best site seems to be as far east as we're allowed to go (the restrictions on the land prohibit us from building closer than 200 feet from the eastern property line). It was great to be able to actually see what we were doing, and we all agreed that the house site became very obvious with all the obstructive brush removed. We could envision a patio with a beautiful, peaceful view, and our pros paced out where the main floor would be and where we'd likely dig in for the daylight basement. My mental picture is coming together, and the more clearly I see what we're heading for, the more thrilled I am.

We will have to make some hard decisions, though. One of them is removing some of the trees. I love trees and I hate to take any down, but there are strategic areas where we could get potentially significant solar gain (and a stunning view) by removing the sun-blocking trees. Fortunately, we have lots of trees on all sides of us, and the view beyond the trees in question is of even more trees in the valley below -- a more beautiful view than the trees themselves. One option that Sid mentioned is to limb up the trees first, to see if that makes enough of a difference, before committing to removing them. That would be more palatable, though I don't think it's realistic for all of them; we will need to thin the stand at the least. Fortunately, we have time to digest this and consider the best course of action for us.

Another hard decision is what we will sacrifice in our house. We just don't have the funds to build as completely energy-tight (passive house) as we would like for the size we're looking at. We could save money by splitting our house equally between downstairs and upstairs, but the fact is that we want much more of the house on the main level than on the lower level. We have much to discuss!

The team discusses the possibilities of the site and placement of the house and yard.

Graham sets up his solar-measuring tool.


The reflections of the trees show how much light they block; the grid inside shows how much solar we get get at each angle throughout the year. With this tool, we can measure our expected solar gain and see the effect of the trees. We can take this information and balance it with how we build and what we want, to help us decide how and what to build.



This is where the clearing of the well road ended earlier this week; now you can see the road turns to the right, where the well actually is.


To the left, the well; straight ahead, the front of the property.

The fork to the well.

The well is clear!

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

I can see clearly now ...

I just learned that poison oak can take up to a week to emerge, depending on the sensitivity of the skin, so I could yet find out that I have more spots. Oh no! Crossing my fingers ... .

Today the land is being cleared. The difference is unbelievable! We can actually see the ground! The clearing wasn't complete when I was there (they were still working on the bushes between the build site and the stand of firs), so I'll go back tomorrow to see what additional progress has been made at that point. I'm glad I went, though: They cleared part of the well road, but stopped when the tractor (with a brush hog on the back) couldn't get any further. Fortunately, I got there before they were finished because I was able to show one of the guys approximately where the well is and explain to him that we need to be able to get to it. They also had a backhoe with a thumb (and treads) on site, so he said he would try to get through with that. If that doesn't work, he said he can come back with bigger equipment. He also said that they do excavation, too, so it's likely that we'll see them again when it's time to dig the foundation. Too bad I didn't introduce myself properly and get his name. Hopefully I'll remember my manners next time.

Standing near the front of the land, looking in toward the build site. 
From the entrance to the property, looking toward the build site (east). 

Clearing the land with the tractor.

The newly cleared well road.
The end of the well-road clearing. 
From near the entrance to the property, looking over the build site.

From the build site, looking back toward the entrance to the property.