The Trench is Dug!

I’ll leave off the quaint and picturesque backstory for now and report on today, in which, contrary to the usual pace at which the Ivy Palace sees improvement, things actually got done.  In October I had the electric company come out and do an evaluation of where the utility pole would go.  In this part of CT it’s the phone company who owns/sites the poles, so they came too.  A fierce battle ensued, with the CL&P guy insisting that he was the Lord of Electricity and the pole was going wherever he said it was going to go, and it was going to go across the street, with wires above ground, strung across the road and anchored to a metal “mast” attached to my house so that I could have that Georgia trailer park look so sought-after in my area, especially across from a 7 million dollar horse farm with the owner ready to stuff me into a pot and boil me into winter feed.

I am nothing if not resourceful, and a combination of the phone company rep’s sweet and kind nature, my ability to bare my throat to the CL&P guy and admit that he had me at his mercy, and the CL&P guy’s quiet and icy tongue-lashing by Mrs Horse Farm during a particularly tense and private tete-a-tete by her mailbox, convinced all concerned that I should a) be allowed to have a pole on my side, b) the phone company would provide it for free, and c) I would be allowed to run the wires underground (yes, that is me in the 170-foot trench).

You’d think Mrs HF would be grateful.  I mean, I’ve just spent about $2,500 I didn’t have to so that they wouldn’t have to look at the hanging detritus of my need to turn the lights on.  But no.  They hate me now.  I think it’s just because I’m there, where nothing has been for so long.  I can relate to that. They were comfortable with the rotting shack, the ghost of a cheerful reclusive fisherman, the twining ivy and the quiet pond.  But I came along and ruined all that.  And no matter how nice this house becomes, that will always be true.

But before I get too ontological about it, let’s go back to the pole, and the trench, and Morris the former First Selectman who has operated heavy equipment and repaired big things all his life, and today he dug me a 170 foot trench and Ev, giddy with delight that someone else was up at the IP with him, happily cut roots out of the way all day and laid the 3 separate conduits ( 3” for electric,  2” for phone, and 2” for cable internet/tv, should a miracle occur and it comes to this end of town someday.  Then, as if this was a normal occurrence, the building inspector actually showed up, commented on the nice sandy soil that would need no additional sand brought in, approved the whole shooting match, and gave the order to backfill. So tomorrow we backfill, then Rick the electrician comes, puts the box on the house, and CL&P runs its $920 of cable and flips the switch and voilà—electricity in a shack without a roof.

Do I know how to have a good time or what?

 

I suppose I should tell you what all this is costing me.  The object of this blog, after all, is to give you an idea what resurrecting a tiny house for habitation will cost you.

Well, like I said, it was about $920 for CL&P.  The conduit and connectors were $500.  The trench will be about $900--I think.  Maybe I will be pleasantly surprised tomorrow when he gives me the bill.  But he was here two days.  Tomorrow I'll backtrack a little and discuss the work on the house and what that has cost so far. FRiends, it ain't cheap.  I have a hard time believing those Tumbleweed Tiny House people who say you can build an entire house for $26,000.  Maybe preservation and renovation costs that much more, but I wonder.