Michael Matherne

I built my own house. Not because I wanted bragging rights. Because I was tired of choosing between cost, comfort, and conscience.

My garage is full of stuff I never use. And yours probably is too. You keep walking past that broken lawnmower and thinking I’ll deal with this next

I built my own house. It was messy. It was confusing. It almost broke me. You’re probably staring at a blank page right now.

I hate clutter. You do too. That pile of garden tools by the back door? The bikes stacked in the garage?

I forget things. Like when I last changed the air filter. Or whether the smoke detector chirped last week and I ignored it. You do too.

Building a home feels like herding cats while juggling flaming torches. I’ve done it twice. Both times I swore I’d never do it again.

Managing a household feels like juggling flaming torches while riding a unicycle. I’ve dropped every one of them. More than once.