So now what? Lessons Learned.

The idea of building a house seemed relatively easy. Firstly, we've already renovated a whole building. Secondly, we're handy. Thirdly, my ADHD hyper-focus means I can accomplish literally anything.

Holy crap was I wrong. As it turns out, building a house is probably the easiest part of the whole process. But when you're working with feral land, there's a lot more to it than just slapping together some framing and a roof.

Like dirt, there's a lot of dirt and apparently that dirt needs to be moved and leveled. We've got driveways, foundations, wells, septic systems and about 22 acres of evil, evil pricker bushes. Side note, when discussing "pricker bushes" in Southern Virginia, the locals have no idea what you're talking about. They are briars.

When we spoke to people who did something similar to what we are doing, most of them said to expect the process to take 3 to 5 years. We of course, scoffed at that nonsense because clearly they're stupid. But no, dare I say, we were not the intelligent couple in these scenarios. Naive doesn't even begin to describe it. The intense underestimation of taking raw land seven hours away from where we live, in an incredibly under serviced area and turning it into a home was humbling to say the least.

So lesson number 1: When your ego says "I know better", shut it down. You do not know better, no matter how easy the internet makes it all look.

I've since lost track of the unanswered emails and phone calls I have made to potential subcontractors. I don't know if it's the region, the state of affairs or just a curse, but I'd confidently say that 99% of my inquiries were ignored. The tiny amount that answered or returned my calls went radio silence once the initial conversation was had. I learned to no longer get excited about a potential contractor.

Lesson 2: When you do find someone willing to do the work, hold on to them. And if they are willing to do the work well, NEVER EVER let them go.

We were so fortunate that about a year into ownership I stumbled upon a lead that introduced us to Brandon "our ground guy" who isn't only professional, but also knows other professionals in the area to introduce us to. As far as I am concerned, Brandon is an angel sent from the heavens to finally give us the break that we needed. Through Brandon we met Parker "our foundation guy", and because of those two, we have a build site and Andrew's metal building. It may not seem like a lot, but it kept us motivated and moving forward. We have eyes and hands down there, and Brandon has even gone as far to check in on our building to make sure it hasn't blown away, collapsed or been ransacked. He's eased our minds and our workload and for that, we are truly grateful.

Lesson 3: Practice gratitude for the people. Coming from the suburbs of Philadelphia, with a population of 4,829.6 people per square mile, it's easy to take people for granted. A simple Google search for "Plumber near me" yields dozens of results. Living in a downtown area, we are always surrounded by humans. If I look out my window right now, I guarantee I can see at least 5 people and dozens of cars. So default mode is to kind of shut it off. It's easy to not see the people, to not hear the cars. We live 10 feet from train tracks and sometimes I don't even hear that as it zips by. When you spend well over a decade in these conditions, I don't even think most people notice their gradual disconnect from one another. We don't say hello as we walk past each other on the street, in fact that can be creepy or create anxiety. We just float around in our own little bubbles, not really noticing or caring about your neighbor a lot of the time.

But when you're in rural America, it's different. Where we are moving to has a population of 27.8 people per square mile. That's right, there are 4,801.8 LESS people per mile.

But back to the topic at hand, lesson 3: practice gratitude for people. Because no matter what so many people like to say, we cannot do this alone. Even if you happen to be the rare human who can survive solo, should you? Is that thriving? For most of us, no. It's not a healthy option.

So when you need help, and you finally find it. Or you're lonely, because you are human.... be grateful for the people. Be kind, be humble and love each other simply because without other people, life would be REALLY, REALLY hard.

Up in Pa, it's nice to sit in quiet at the end of the day (and by quiet I mean with the TV on to drown out the humans outside), but when the people are removed - it's pretty damn exciting to have a neighbor pop by to check on you and to chat. My advice is; if you're having a hard time appreciating all the positive things other people provide for you, like socialization, food, electricity, water.... remove them from your equation for a little while. Get out there into the middle of nowhere and survive alone. Not only will you probably come back with a greater appreciation for humans, but also a true sense of affection for your flushing toilet and triple play toilet paper!

TTFN,

P&S