Keyword

Don't forget your keys!

Doors and windows are endlessly complicated. Today I swear to God I went to the locksmith three times to get the new latchset and to sort out the details of installing my existing deadbolt into the new door. When I bought this house, it came with this key, which is original. There was an impressive alarm system on all openings, including the garage, but this skeleton key was the only thing that could lock a door.

So after my many trips to Albemarle Lock and Safe (special shout-out and link forthcoming) I realized the day was wearing us all out, most of all Paul, whose primary goal was to get this house buttoned up for the night. As we were debating the various methods for doing-so (see, the deadbolt from the existing door was removed to the new one, and I don't care for keyed latches--the kind where you leave the door and realize "oops I just locked myself out") I remembered the old skeleton key in a nostalgic way. And then it all came together: no need to bolt the old door with lumber and screws: the skeleton key will turn that old mortise lock into the security system for the night. Glad I could locate it and that it worked.

How many cooks in the kitchen?

In this case, I say we have exactly the right number. Remember that little receptacle I showed you in the last post? It's a dedicated line that I had the electricians put in way back when I had a refrigerator here. So, given the impending SawzAll and the ideas brewing in my brain about potential appliance usage in this corner, we called in Mark Schuyler to figure it all out. He's an interesting guy not only because he's a great lighting designer. He's also a Master Electrician, so we know he'll figure out how to make it legal, and safe to boot. What I didn't know was that he'd actually pull the wires through and label things and make me understand how these things work just a little better.
Here's a detail of that little corner. Paul's drilled out some holes through the existing structure so the Romex will fit in a convenient way. We went through the likely scenarios of electrical usage in this area and weighed that with the feasibility of running lines to the panel, etc. Note here the plaster and lath which exists in this house. We considered cutting it all out back here in order to simplify things and insulate the wall. With an old house, it's best to be prepared for compromise. This plaster is particularly tricky due to its brittleness. The rest of the house was a bit more predictable, but back here in the kitchen it's not too cooperative.

Seriously, when does all the upheaval stop?

Poor Hugo. He's old and has never been too comfortable with change.
That said, I realize how much it taxes my nerves to have construction near where I sleep and eat, and it's good to think about that. I'm always very candid with clients about how upsetting the whole process will be.
Today's goal is to cut out a bit of wall to the left of this door and install the new door in its place. Along the way, we'll run into some electrical work (note the receptacle to the left of the jamb.) It all came together beautifully today--like minds working together and getting it done. And we had some fun along the way, too. Isn't that what it's all about?
So here's Paul, who's not only great to work with, but great to think with, too. I know that it's tricky to have someone over your shoulder when you're trying to work it out in your head, so I have a great appreciation for Paul letting me sit in on that conversation and add my own two cents, because I'm working it out in my head at the same time. In the abstract, architects just design how it's supposed to look or work. It's extremely inefficient in a lot of ways. So in my own house I just go with what feels right, and it feels right when I have confidence in the guy holding the saw.
Here, Paul has stripped the trim off that old door to the pantry, and he's getting ready to make some serious dust by cutting up that plaster and lath to give an extra eight inches to the opening. I've been marking my cabinetry ideas with blue tape on the wall and floor, and that helps me visualize things better than the thousands of dollars of CAD programs and computer hardware in the office (though I use that stuff too...)

Here's what I love about red clay

Barcelona Masters Series Final

Unlike the Virginia red clay that plagues my housekeeping efforts, the red clay on which tennis is played makes me very happy indeed! Seriously, I love watching tennis, especially during the European clay court season. Today's final is between two Spaniards, which bodes well for a nice long match. Rafael Nadal, of course, is known as the King of Clay, and is arguably the best player to ever take on the terre battue. David Ferrer is another excellent clay courter.

I do find the images of clay court tennis to be especially beautiful. The game itself is much more meditative to watch on clay compared to hard-court or grass. It's a little like chess in that the players have to think ahead as they construct the points. I suppose it's the extra fraction of a second that the ball hangs in the air that makes this a much more intellectual game. There's a terrific graphic demonstration of why the ball moves the way it does on clay (and also why Nadal's game is so tough to crack) in the New York Times. I'll figure out how to add the link here.

No photos of porch progress today, as I am completely wiped out from working out there in the 90-degree April heat. I must say my own legs were about as muddy as Ferrer's in this photo, but not quite as bloodied. So I've cleaned up, turned on the AC and the Tennis Channel, and plan to spend the afternoon watching these two guys work on the clay. I'm done for the day.

Here's what I hate about red clay

As I was working on the porch today, I thought about how much energy goes into trying to keep red clay out of my kitchen. Most dog-owners in this part of the world share that concern. It's a constant battle, and with a pair of terriers, it's an all-out war. After I took this photo a few years ago, I considered for a moment the idea of terra-cotta decor. But I hate that color. I hired a housekeeper who cleans floors like nobody's business, and I make do with a series of "mud-abatement" procedures at the back door when it rains.

That said, one of my primary motivations for redesigning the back entry is to keep the mud out. I started hosing it off some areas near the house and it just doesn't go away.

Do NOT try this at home

So my Sunday New York Times arrived this morning with a very timely article right on the front page. I've been thinking about this topic a lot lately, needless to say. Even in brighter economic times, people often think they can save lots of money by acting as their own designer, tradesman or general contractor. The best answer to this idea that I've heard is: "Only a fool has himself as a client." Since I am breaking my rule with nearly every aspect of this project, it's worth noting that I am aware of the risks and frustrations of a semi-do-it-myself project. And I am becoming more and more aware of them with each passing day, so hopefully this is turning me into a better architect. Without question, I have gained a better understanding of how things go together, the importance of sequence, the many logistical challenges faced by a contractor, not to mention the tremendous stress of living through renovation.
In my practice, I usually advise clients not to approach renovation as a piecemeal series of small projects.
Here's why:
1. Economy of Scale
It's just not cost-effective in the long-run. If you get a good contractor with the right tools and the right skills, you will absolutely get more bang for your buck. Some people like to equate their own sweat-equity with the hourly rate of an experienced pro. Needless to say, they're deluding themselves (and I might add, insulting said pro at the same time)
Of course, I wouldn't be doing a good job of schilling for my profession without mentioning the importance of having the right architect to design the project.
2. The Hassle Factor
Never underestimate the sense of upheaval brought on by renovations in and around your house. You sleep there, you want your pets and children and possessions to be safe there. Busting up walls is messy and noisy and dangerous. Prolonged pay-as-you-go renovations are tremendously stressful for individuals and relationships. Even the best-run project with top of the line contractors will bring stress into your household.
3. Safety
Early on, a couple of friends offered up their Sawz-Alls for my little project, but I declined until Tim and Sherman came over with the heavy artillery. With the demolition, I went at a slower pace with hand tools, but so far I still have ten fingers left. I'll need those fingers for drafting!
My general rule of thumb (yeah, I still have two of those) with power tools is: I don't use anything big, noisy or sharp unless there's someone around who knows what they're doing.
Interesting in that Times article how they report more doctors' visits related to unskilled people attempting home improvements. I don't want to be in that statistic. I've got a couple of scrapes and bruises, and today I do feel like I'm a candidate for a lower-back transplant.
I ramble on. This is a big topic, and I'm still working it out in my head and on the keyboard.

At the end of the day, this is what it's all about

My handsome terrier, Angus, who knows how to pose.
The dogs like to hang out here (though I have been very careful during this process not to endanger them with all the broken nails and falling objects.) So now they have a better view. And in a few days, they'll have a better place from which to take in the view. Gone will be the Downspout to Nowhere (oddly, the only part of this house that has a gutter is the Jed Clampett!)
Gone will be the slanty stairs, the droopy doorway, the fusty floorboards and the rusty rail.
It's time for a new outlook...a new door and window, in fact.
Next time: an account of my fabulous trip to Gaston & Wyatt, where the perfect door and window found the perfect home. As we loaded the door (pre-hung, fir, 3-panel, 3-light, 2-8/6-8) into the truck, I felt like I was bringing home a puppy from the pound. Someone didn't want this door that will suit my little house just fine. So I brought it (and a lovely casement window) home for a song.
Phew I am tired.

Brush 'em, Floss 'em, or Lose 'em

That's what's printed on the complimentary toothbrushes I get from my dentist, and it's a good way to think about your fascia.


Hooray. Paul is here! Paul is a bonafide carpenter, so I feel a little safer working when he's around. He's replacing some rotted fascia here and there--places where water has lingered too long. I spotted a few potential "cavities" and Paul confirmed that two of them needed work. This spot (where the metal roof meets the wood) is not visible to anyone but the squirrels, so he patched it together with some board I salvaged from the old pantry. Nice heart pine, in fact.


Over here on the west side of the house there's an addition with a flat roof. Those are particularly problematic. This one has what's called a drip edge, which is a little piece of metal intended to force water to drip away from the fascia. This particular profile behaves more like a "dribble edge" instead.
Yeah, yeah I know I need gutters. But for various reasons I have resisted the idea. Architects don't like 'em. If I can keep the water off the wood, and keep vigilant about potential soft spots, I'll be OK. Here, the soft spot required more than a filling, but less than a root-canal. Paul found a tiny gap in the metal roof above, and some damage to the sub-fascia. Luckily it had not gotten to the structure yet. He replaced the board, and hit the trouble spots with some roofing goo we're calling Roofer in a Can.

Windows and Views

I love the way this little casement window is just hanging on for life. Really, I needed this pantry to be out of my way so that I could see out into my garden. I'm getting there...

Later in the day, I've gotten rid of that little window and more siding. Now I'm really attached to the fixed window at the far end. It has that gorgeous old glass that just makes any view a little nicer.

The Birds and the Bees

Evidently, there were a lot of them living up there, as I found out when I pulled the ceiling down and was showered the collected housing of birds, bees and other flying things. Luckily I did not surprise or displace anyone.


And here's a closer look for anyone who'd care to see just what's in my lungs, eyes and hair right now.

Before photos

Enjoy it while it's still ugly, folks. It's the last vestige of the porch I affectionately refer to as the "Jed Clampett." Seriously, an outdoor pantry is a cool old idea, and I do intend to keep some of that function in the new porch that will replace it. This one is tiny: 5' long by 42", maybe. And the door from the kitchen also tiny, so it is not tremendously useful for storing today's kitchen excess. Plus there's an insulation issue. Since I went to the trouble of adding attic insulation to the entire house, it's been especially difficult to use the pantry with much frequency. Add that to the fact that this is a kitchen with more things swinging into it than you can imagine (drawing forthcoming.) Imagine: two doors from the outside, a pair of inswing casement windows, and a door in the floor (image forthcoming) which provides access to the mechanical/storage/laundry below.

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Here's the window on the other side of the pantry, along with the aforementioned inswing casements. Yes, that side of the kitchen is leaning hard. It's amazing the plaster hasn't cracked inside. Very resilient, this little old building.

Well, I don't know much about structure, but this is sketchy.

I guess I'd call this a questionable bearing condition, what with the decidedly spongey wood under there. Post feels rock-solid, but it's hard to tell how well it's transferring load down to my pier. Opting for the scientific method, I had my neighbor watch while I jumped (gently) on that corner. We decided it would last the night. And it did.
Paul gave me some instructions for shoring up the roof when removing the rest of the structure. Oh, the things I ought to write down!

Demolition: the best way to begin

Break it down
Tore off the screens today and took out most of the framing, some siding.
Sherman, was I supposed to be careful removing this part of the siding? I thought maybe this was a good opportunity to practice pulling pieces off with minimal damage.
Well, nothing particularly salvageable at this point, but I am getting better at pulling out the nails.



It does lighten things up considerably, getting rid of all that filthy metal screen. I even poked a hole through to the pantry to I had a place to keep tools at hand.