Well, what in the hell do I do now?

The prequel to the build...

I sat in front of my laptop and scrolled halfheartedly through another page of apartments and sighed in dismay. The options that existed were no different than the ones I viewed last week. Or the week before. Or the month before that. I began my search in exasperation after a year of commuting from Snohomish to Seattle for work; a journey that used to consist of no longer than 45 minutes each way years prior. The current commute? 1.5 hours in the morning. Over 2 hours home. Every. Single. Day. The insidious stress from so much wasted time in my car was mounting. I had looked at every neighborhood in between Snohomish and Northgate, and approximately 0 places fit my ideal price range of less than $1000 a month. Let alone having enough square feet to squeeze a bed AND a dresser into the 1 bedroom advertised as, “Cozy.” It was either find a place closer to work or find a new job. I got up to check the house thermostat, which was at a toasty 50 degrees. You see, after my post collegiate life had taken some interesting turns in the previous couple years, my father was generous enough to let me temporarily reside in his humble abode in Snohomish. Humble, chilly abode. Humble, chilly, bachelor pad, abode. My younger brother had moved in also. Sharing a house with dudes is fine; sharing a house with dudes that are your dad and brother in your mid-twenties presents different… challenges. I snapped my laptop shut in defeat and headed on over to my boyfriend’s place.

A short 9 minute drive (if you speed of course) to the other side of Snohomish and I pulled up the steep gravel driveway that disappeared into the beautiful old cedars, maples and firs. My favorite aspect of this property was that it was so close to town, but upon climbing the gravel driveway one truly feels the shelter of the surrounding forest; such a treasured reprieve after living in Seattle and Portland.

I was warmly greeted with a flailing wave and a booming, “Hi Brianna!” "...Hello Dan,” I replied. An important note is my boyfriend’s name is not Dan. Dan is my boyfriend’s father. You see, my boyfriend also lived with his father. Another fun fact? It was boyfriend Brian’s childhood home; a home I also could have called my second childhood home since I spent a fair amount of time during my middle and high school years gallivanting around the property with Brian’s heathen sister, Emily.

I walked into the all too familiar entryway and found Brian perched on a stool in the kitchen, perusing Redfin for probably the 18th time that day. While we both were temporarily living with our fathers, there was a stark difference between Brian and Bri; Brian was way too stubborn to, “Pay over half a million dollars for some piece of shit in an inflated market,” (his words exactly). We had periodically dabbled on the subject of moving in together, although there was “No chance in hell,” (his words) that Brian was moving in with me in an apartment anywhere south of his Snohomish bubble. I looked over his shoulder as he scrolled aimlessly through overpriced fixer-upper after shitey development spec house with sheer disappointment on his face. I helped myself to a sip from his dram –ooh, a peated sherry whisky tonight—and asked, “So, how much would it cost to build me a tiny home somewhere? Seriously, because I don’t think $1500 a month for an apartment is acceptable. I will not make any money for the next 40 years at that rate with the amount I still owe on my godforsaken loans.” (Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, I was currently $60,000 in student loan debt. How criminal!!!) He clicked around a few times on his computer and magically came up with a specific answer: “$20,000… Maybe $30,000 with tricked out appliances.” I mulled this over pensively for a moment; that sounded like the most feasible option yet. How ridiculous is it that at this point in my life, building an actual structure appeared to be the most tangible option for my mid-twenties-$60,000-in-debt-college-graduate-ass? Brian followed up with, “So where are you going to put it? You need land to put something like that on.” The greatest thing about Brian, is that if anyone is passionate about an idea, he will help anyone get after it, no matter how crazy the idea. The other thing about Brian, is that he always makes sure to bring in this fantastic type of buzzkill logic. I snapped back to reality, and also snapped rather fiery, “I don’t know! Maybe I’ll just ask Dan if I can put it out there in the pasture. And I will call it, Bri’s Backyard Bungalow. And maybe sometimes if you are nice to me, I will let you visit.”

Flashforward another year. Bri goes on a road rage rampage on I-5 south and ends up duking it out with another driver resulting in an aggravated assault charge... Not true, just wanted to make sure everyone is still awake. After I basically sprained my middle finger from intensely flipping the bird too many times, I accepted a job in Bothell, much closer to “home,” thanks to my old pal Lacee. Brian and Bri move in together at Dan’s place. Their conversation has gone from Bri’s backyard bungalow, to a 20 X 20 unpermitted structure, to looking at purchasing a sub-par “shitey” house together, because let’s be honest, as Brian pointed out, “Bri’s clothes alone wouldn’t fit in anything less than a house,” (his rude words). Then one day, Brian got an idea. The back lot. Dan’s property consists of 2 lots next to each other. Brian proposed to Dan to sell us a piece of the property, and then we would build a house on it… Oh, and we would be owner-contractors too. You see, Brian is an electrical process controls engineer, but has realized that he undoubtedly would have enjoyed being an architect much better. Having always had a goal to eventually build a house one day, he figured, why not start with the first one he will ever own? Sounds like Brian, right? Immediately upon Dan’s approval, Brian went forward to see if it this was all feasible, and voila! The BC house plans were born!

 Yeah right, I WISH it was that simple, but we will make other posts about that for those that care to read about the grueling process. Grueling being a wild understatement.

Long story still long, there is our backstory of how our house went from a backyard bungalow to reality!