Goin’ Up Country, or The Semi-Valueless Cabin of Mystery

So, Dweebert and I own this one bedroom cabin in the woods. The Old Rattlesnake built it back in the day, circa 1961-4. We inherited it when TOR passed on.

Inexplicably, Dweeb and I both wanted to keep it. Older bro, the IT Guy, bailed. He was always the smart one. Not surprisingly, he said “Show me the money.“ Mashie desperately wanted me to do the Sensible Thing, too, but I wouldn’t. I’m that kind of guy.

Anyways, it’s ours now. The place is a wreck. It hasn’t seen much use over the last couple decades. The most use it got was the semi-frequent occasions it was broken into and used as a party house by the local yokels. Also, TOR was big on Deferring Maintenance. In short, there’s Problems.

One of the biggest is that it is a non-conforming structure. That means it was built before permits were being issued. It was built onto an existing miner’s cabin from the early 1900‘s. I remember it. It looked like it was from the early 1800’s.

The setback is 5 feet from the neighbor’s lot (to his consternation), and the current requirement is 30. This will prevent ever being able to enlarge the house. I believe the exact words of the inexplicably hostile building department lady were, “Make my day. Just try to get a permit.”

Other problems are due to Shoddy Construction. TOR was a master of cobby work. Dweeb thinks it was because he was drunk all the time. I don’t. I think it was because he was fundamentally lazy on top of being drunk all the time.

We go up there and try to salvage what we can. It’s not easy. TOR utilized some truly inexplicable building techniques. Some of his Framing Solutions must have been suggested by Pink Elephants. Being freed of constraints such as building codes and having your work inspected must have been liberating. I guess he felt that conventional framing members needn’t be installed in every case, and you really didn’t always have to nail them in.

His electrical wiring was the stuff of nightmares. He was an electronics technician, and knew about electricity. I think this led him down some slippery slopes. Like with his construction technique, he went his own way electrically. To be fair, the place didn’t fall down or explode into flames in almost 50 years. Surprisingly. You used to get quite a jolt off the shower faucets, now and then, though. And, the living room floor did cave in that time….

Other factors: Dweeb is really good at demolition. Unfortunately, he isn’t as well versed in construction. He is the industrious sort. In order to keep busy, he often starts tearing stuff out. This makes progress difficult. Eventually, you have to reverse the flow and start putting it back together.

Hopefully, if I’m patient, he will begin to see the truth in that.

To Forgive, Divine

I’ve mentioned my kid brother Dweebert.* He’s a crazy-ass sombich. We have gotten closer in recent years over the unexpected death of our mom, the care and feeding of The Old Rattlesnake (TOR), his eventual passing, the clean-up and sale of the old homestead, and recently, working on a semi-valueless cabin up in the woods we both now own.

When we were kids, Dweeb was always the poor, well....., dweeb, that got the short end of the stick, courtesy of the FCC (Family Chain of Command). Those of you with siblings know the drill. For the rest of you, or those who had an abnormal childhood or siblings who were body-snatched pod people or something, this is how it Usually Works: For whatever reason, (often, no reason), the older sister/brother kicks the ass of the next one down, then that one goes and kicks the ass of the one under her/him. If there’s more, add "and so on".

The bee-otch about this arrangement is, usually (not always), the youngest DDS (didn‘t do sh**). The middle one may be innocent, but usually PDSS (probably did some sh**).

The oldest often escapes his/her come-uppance unless the middle one gets enough rocks in his/her pockets to dish it out. Unfortunately, the youngest often doesn’t ever get the chance to Even the Score because the older siblings, realizing that they’ve Created a Monster, wisely GTHO (get the hell out).

The point is, the youngest suffers. Usually without any reason other than they were defenseless. And, well....., dweebs. This post is all in aid of describing how things stood between Dweeb and me before the bonding-thingy. We get along very well now.

Sometimes, late at night, when Dweebert and I up at the cabin, and the wind is whistling through the pines, and the coyotes are howling in the canyon, I start having doubts. I begin to wonder, and I remember that revenge is a dish best savored cold.

And there's plenty of Power Tools laying around.

*The promised Post, "Goin' Up Country" has been delayed. Get over it.

It Ain't Groundhog Day, Bubbie

December has lots of stuff going on. It’s a hectic time and requires diligent planning. There are several minor holidays like Chanukah, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve, but these are under the radar compared to The Single Most Important Event of the Season.

What this is goes without saying. (For those of you who guessed Pearl Harbor Day, slip back into your coma.)

Many are run ragged by the time The Event can be prudently allowed to wind down. Just the anxiety and tension can wreak havoc on those of a softer mettle.

Generally, this is how it breaks down:

“Ramping Up”
Usually occurs a full two weeks before The Day. Shopping, party planning, guest list writing, invitations, laying in supplies, baking, gift wrapping, and other essential preparations.

“Pre Season”
Minor events organized and held. Brunches, lunches, theater, dinners-on-the-town and other get-togethers ("Sorry,Boys, it's Just The Wimmin").

“The Day”
Phone calls. This may go on for several days as the Brain Dead try to catch up. AT&T has to take drastic measures to keep emergency services available. Family Time. Family party at home. Family gift-giving.

“Post Season”
Family gifts are returned. Parties, dinners-on-the-town, theater, other get togethers with small and large groups (may occasionally include The Men). This may not die down for several months.

Anyway, she doesn't look a day older than when I met her. Even after all that December partying over the years. She looks mahvelous.

Here's my birthday wish to her for this year: Jeryleh, I hope the CFO listens to your gift hints next year.

Idle Hands Do the Devil's Work

This is my first post for December, as one of the followers of this blog pointed out.

Sigh. Expectations and pressure already.

My Big Mistake was to post Too Many Installments too quickly. Now I am deluged with emails clamoring for more. It's my own fault. I gave you the world, and now you all expect me to post intelligent and witty observations and fascinating tales willy-nilly.

Some of you must not have that much to do. Besides, I really don't have that much to say. Maybe I said everything already.

Well, maybe not everything. Stay tuned for my next post, "Goin' Up Country".

When, Vance? When when when?

Save your emails.

I'll post it when I'm good and ready. Sit on your hands or something.