Praise the Lord and Pass the Sunscreen

Without getting into issues of religious faith, let me just say that the recent period of unusually heavy rainfall has led me to wonder if this isn't God's way at getting back at me for trying to be handy around the house.
But take a look at the sky today. We'd made tentative plans to tighten up some structure and add decking later this week, but this felt like a "make hay while the sun shines" moment, so I made an executive decision and enlisted Paul to head up the effort.
In a small house, tearing off even a tiny little porch has a big impact on how things work inside. With the rain delays, the inside of the house has become increasingly hard to manage, since I don't even have a stable area outside on which to prop, say, muddy boots or a broom.

That's me, a few days ago, looking down trying to figure out how to get out of those boots and into the house without falling into a mud-filled crater. You'll have to use your imagination, because I was not able to photograph myself trying to catch two slippery mud-coated terriers on their way into the house in order to administer eight little footscrubbings each time. (Just so you know, I am not a full-fledged neat freak, nor do I have delicate, light-colored Aubussons in the adjacent room to worry about. It's just that little bits of upheaval add up to a lot of discomfort quickly, and light at the end of the tunnel felt like a necessary stage to achieve at this point.)

This feels a lot better:
(and please note the re-installation of the broom-rack--a lifesaver, in my opinion.)

Hugo is done with his inspection. The new deck meets his criteria and he feels comfortable enough to go inside and relax. Me too. Finally, I feel like I can relax at home again! Better yet, I can relax at home on the back porch. Now that's something I have never been able to say before!
There's a lot of work left to be done, but having a stable place on which to do it makes a world of difference.
Now that old blue tarp serves double-duty, since it keeps us protected from the sunshine while we work. It's given me all kinds of ideas about a future pergola which allows some control of shading. Having a sort-of ceiling over a space like this actually makes it feel larger, which is worth considering.
Paul was kind enough to let me work alongside him today, and he even taught me a little technique with the drill. I'm getting better at it. In fact, I managed at least 500 deck screws, give or take. Paul did the tricky ones near the edges. My arm hurts. Luckily Paul advised me to ice it so it won't hurt so much in the morning. It's a good feeling though.
Sherman kept telling me how putting on the decking was going to be the fun and easy part, and now I feel a little badly, because she's laid up with a cold, and to be honest, this part was a lot more fun and easy than the framing. Of course, God graced us with perfect weather today. So now let's all say a nice little prayer for clear skies and good health all the way around (before I start waxing on about well-known carpenters from biblical times.) And thanks to everyone who's helping to make it happen.
Peace.

Two Sheets of OSB: Priceless

While I was making my order at the lumberyard, I decided to throw in a couple of sheets of plywood--just in case something prevented us from getting decking on in a timely manner. (persistent rain, for example) Running with the theme of asking vendors to direct me to their "finest, cheapest" product, I went with OSB, which is not too heavy, not too expensive, and suitable for temporary walking surface, assuming you screw it down securely. For under $10, I've got a path from the door out to the garden, which is particularly important for Hugo, the elder of my two dogs. He's not nearly as nimble as Angus, who is happy to skip across the tops of the joists.

More About Mud

Well I think we've established my love-hate relationship with red clay. Love it on a tennis court, hate it in my house. The rain came this weekend, and it keeps on coming, so in the meantime, let's talk a little more about red clay. Housekeeping is a particular problem when you live near the red stuff. Erosion control at construction sites is something I'm interested in at the moment, but mostly because I'm trying to limit the impact on the housekeeping.
Forgive me, dear reader, because this is a little gory (and do bear in mind I took the first photo after cleaning up a fair bit.) But take my word for it that it was much, much worse.
Yesterday, Tim and Sherman and I decided to continue progress on the deck construction in spite of the forecast for rain. We rigged up a tarp overhead to offer a little cover, and it did just that: it covered us, a little.
I do wish I had photos of the mess while we were working, but it was difficult enough to keep hands on tools given the slippery nature of the mud. See how the tops of our posts and that band got sloppy from us trying to grab onto them. Just handling the lumber became a bit of a challenge, not to mention handling small and sharp things like nails and joist hangers.
Today I lined up the straw bales in an effort to hold off the tide of red clay that flows down this slope. Tomorrow, I'll clean up more red clay in the house. It gets worse before it gets better. But the important thing is that it gets better!

How many architects does it take to....

Well before I make a bad joke about a light bulb, take a look at today's progress. Lucky for me that Tim and Sherman came today to do some heavy lifting and bring on the power tools. Up to now, the only power tool I've used is my much beloved Milwaukee drill. In order to get this porch out of the scene and make the roof hold on, we needed not only some power tools, but also some serious thought as to the structure.

Here's Tim thinking about it with Sherman.

And here's Tim thinking about it some more. But wait a minute. The posts are gone! Presto-change-o we have new structure! So now Tim's thinking about how best to deploy that new SawzAll to get the rest of this debris out of the way. See how we've used a long 2 x 6 to carry the load across to those 2 x 4 posts. It's just the temporary framing that will allow us to remove what needs to go and frame what's coming next, while keeping that little old roof intact and where it belongs.

It's funny with an old building, you never know what you'll find. We felt very lucky to find a good ledger under the porch, which will make things easier from here out. Mostly, I feel extremely lucky to have friends who will lend their brains and brawn (not to mention the tools) to my little project here.

Really, I looked out over this pile of mud this evening and as upsetting as it is in some ways, it feels like good change, and when you have good friends holding your hand through the process, you actually learn something. Something other than "I don't like upheaval." I still don't like upheaval (who does?) but I think I'll be able to make better choices in the face of change now that some incredibly kind and generous friends have walked me through the first few steps.
Oh, don't get me started on the steps! There are none, but we'll adapt.

Things are easier when they're less scary, and they're less scary when you jump in with both feet. These feet are muddy (but you really ought to see how muddy Tim and Sherman are...)

Thanks guys! I couldn't (no, I wouldn't) have done it without you!

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...)

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.

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.

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.