As you know if you’ve been following along, we’re in the process of renovating a derelict cabin into the new home of Peace Crops. This last week, though, there really hasn’t been much swinging of hammers or scooping of shovels. Instead, it’s been more like pushing of pencils.
You’d think I’d have forseen this, since in my other life I’m an architect. But the reality is, I don’t actually do the physical building on many projects, and I’ve never before owned a home. Wow, there’s a lot of paperwork! Our property is especially “blessed” in this regards, as it was subject to an Administrative Review by the county zoning board for being a nonconforming parcel. In English: when we bought the place, we got a 118-page legal document of extra “stuff” we have to do if we want to live there. It includes things like
- put in a well
- put in electricity
- get a septic approval letter from the county
- get a road access permit from the state highway department
- sign some covenants that we won’t sue the neighbors for stinking
- get a letter from the fire chief stating that he can get to our house
and a zillion other things… some easy, some complicated. My favorite right now is the deal with the septic system. The property actually came with one (a surprise, since there isn’t a water source on the property), but we have to have it pumped, even though it’s empty, and a “pump report” provided by the certified septic system pumper guy. THEN, we have to take that to the county septic board, along with some other forms I have to fill out, and a site plan, and so forth, and they then send an official Pooper Inspector (my title, not theirs) to look one more time and say “yep, they have a septic system”. Oh, and it costs $575 for him to come take a look.
While all of this is going on, I’m also working up the energy to draw my house… the county building department actually wants to see a plans of what I plan on remodeling. I wasn’t intending to do that, I was just going to fake it, but they are insistent that I provide them with something. The cobbler’s son goes unshod!
