While many people typically wait until they are at least 30 years old to build their dream home, the thrill of hand-crafting your ideal living space is unmatched.
Imagine the journey of creating a plan, putting your heart and soul into it, and finally seeing your vision come to life. That’s exactly what Tom did. At just 17 years old, he used his skill, creativity, and determination to make his dream a reality.
Driven by rising housing costs and a desire for independence, Tom set out to build a modest home using recycled materials. He discovered he could create something completely from scratch while staying within a budget.
“My vision for the cabin was to keep things simple and provide a stress-free lifestyle. Everything I have is mine; I paid for everything”, Tom explained.
Now, at 20, Tom is relieved knowing he won’t have to spend his hard-earned money on rent. “It’s a no-brainer life and once you’ve built something, it really is yours”, he added.
Tom’s house is located on his grandfather’s extensive property and retains a charming English country aesthetic, complete with a side window. At 17, he bought a caravan and immediately began building it while working and completing his carpentry apprenticeship, which he completed in December.
The front of his house is made of larch wood, sourced cheaply from a local sawmill, while the side walls are made of fence boards. All the windows are recycled, sourced from a website that specializes in used materials. He recently added a porch, using boards from a scaffolding company and other scrap and reclaimed wood he recovered from the job.
Upon entering Tom’s home, visitors are greeted by beautiful reclaimed wood and a tranquil poster of a seascape. “My goal was to use only reclaimed wood for the build because it’s budget-friendly,” Tom noted. Much of the wood in his home was salvaged from old homes that he personally stripped down, sanded and repurposed.
The living area includes a compact workspace for his work and meals, a standard sofa, and a wall-mounted TV. In the future, he hopes to upgrade to a multifunctional sofa with built-in storage.
Tom especially loves his kitchen, where he made a fully functional worktop out of recycled scaffolding boards and spent hours sanding and painting it. The kitchen is equipped with essential appliances such as a fridge, stove and toaster.
Opposite the kitchen is a compact bathroom with a small chemical toilet with electric flush. The shower area has corrugated iron walls and copper fittings, evoking a rustic farmhouse feel. Back in the living room, a ladder leads to the loft, which leads to Tom’s cozy bedroom with double mattress.
Tom began building his dream home at age 17 with a budget of $8,200 and an hourly wage of $5.50 and managed to save most of his income to finance the construction of his home using recycled materials.
Imagine how his home will evolve as he completes the various upgrades he has in mind! For a full tour of Tom’s home, check out the video below
I Discovered Hotel Receipts in My Husband’s Car, Uncovering a Heartbreaking Truth — but Karma Took Its Toll on Him Severely
This shift in his pattern piqued my curiosity and concern. One weekend, while Derek was out visiting a friend, I decided to clean his car—a task that he usually took upon himself.
As I vacuumed the interior and wiped down the dashboard, I stumbled upon a stack of receipts tucked away in the glove compartment. My hands trembled slightly as I unfolded them, revealing charges for a hotel room right here in our town. The dates on these receipts coincided perfectly with the days he claimed to be out of town for work.
My initial instinct was to rationalize these findings. Maybe there was a reasonable explanation, like a mix-up with the receipts or perhaps he was helping out a friend in need. But as much as I wanted to dismiss my growing suspicions, the seeds of doubt had already been planted deep in my mind.
Determined to get to the bottom of this, I started to pay closer attention to Derek’s comings and goings. I started noting the times he left the house and the purported destinations for his business trips.
My scrutiny extended to collecting any and all receipts I could find—whether they were casually discarded in his pockets or left behind in his car. Most were mundane, everyday purchases, but every so often, another hotel receipt would surface among them, each one like a small jolt to my heart.
This pattern continued, each receipt adding weight to the uneasy feeling settling in my chest. The more I found, the more the pieces began to form a picture I was afraid to confront.
Yet, despite the mounting evidence, I hadn’t brought up my concerns with Derek. I was torn between not wanting to believe my husband could be deceiving me and the growing realization that I needed to address these doubts somehow.
The next few days were filled with a thick tension that seemed to permeate our home. Derek’s comings and goings became even more erratic, and his excuses grew increasingly flimsy. “I have to leave urgently,” he’d announce abruptly, and I’d nod, feigning indifference. But inside, my suspicion and resentment were building to a crescendo.
One evening, fed up with the lies, I decided to follow him. He left the house in a rush, barely managing a goodbye. I waited a few minutes before I quietly slipped into my car and trailed behind him from a safe distance.
My heart pounded as I drove, each turn he took adding to the tight knot of anxiety in my stomach. He didn’t head towards the office or any business district; instead, he pulled into the parking lot of the same hotel from the receipts.
I parked a little way off and made my way to the lobby, trying to blend in with the crowd. I found a discreet spot near the elevators from where I could observe without being seen.
It wasn’t long before I saw him—Derek, my husband, the father of my children—walking side by side with a woman. They were laughing, touching each other’s arms intimately, and then they embraced, a long, passionate hug that made my heart sink.
The shock of seeing them together, so close, so personal, was nearly overwhelming. My hands shook with a mix of anger, sorrow, and disbelief. Driven by a surge of adrenaline, I stepped out from my hiding spot and confronted them. The look on their faces was priceless—shock, guilt, fear—it was all there. Derek stammered, and tried to explain, but I didn’t want to hear any of it.
The next few days were a blur of arguments, tears, and revelations. It turned out that the woman was more than just a fling; Derek had believed they had something special.
But the ultimate betrayal came when I learned from a mutual friend that, shortly after our breakup, she had scammed him. She had persuaded Derek to open a joint account under the guise of starting a new life together. Then, without warning, she withdrew every penny and disappeared, leaving him devastated and financially ruined.
This revelation didn’t bring me any satisfaction. Instead, there was a hollow feeling of vindication mixed with immense sadness for the chaos that now surrounded what was once a family united. Derek was a broken man, deceived by someone he trusted, just as he had deceived me.
In the wake of our separation, I found myself reevaluating everything that had happened. Our home felt different, and emptier, as I dealt with the aftermath of Derek’s actions on our marriage and our family’s financial stability. The prenup, once a simple precaution, now seemed like a prescient safeguard that protected what little I had left for our children’s future.
Derek’s affair and the subsequent scam had not only ended our marriage but had also left him in ruins. It was a painful irony that he was duped in much the same way he had deceived me. Despite everything, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for him—he was, after all, the man I had once loved deeply.
Now, as I stand in the quiet of what used to be our shared living room, I realize the depth of the betrayal and the indelible mark it has left on my life. Moving forward won’t be easy, but it’s necessary. For me, for our kids, and even for Derek, the path to healing is going to be a long one, but it starts with stepping out of the shadows of deception and reclaiming my life, one day at a time.
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