Thursday, January 27, 2005
Rant aside for the day to the tweakers across the street: You're evicted already, so it's way past time for you to move. Or are you steeling yourselves for Little Waco? For the endgame -- and let's hope it is an end and not so much a game -- they're ignoring the landlord and whole new cast of creepy low-life characters are making a beeline to the place. It never occurred to me the situation would get worse (insert wry smile here over unexpected results of life).
There, I feel better.
I finally met the famous Norm, the guy my architect calls "Bitter Beer Face" man. He was all smiles to me, tho, maybe it was the tango outfit. He's going to be around for, like, forever, making those walls stretch to improbable heights. Already Galusha has a little fence of forms around it, only one story so far. The architect says everything will just start to look bigger and bigger from here on out.
Past the first floor, it's like you're carving out space in the sky to live in. That's why skyscrapers always struck me as the ultimate example of capitalistic audacity. You only needed a small square of land to rent to hundreds, thousands ...
Me, I'm just looking for one buyer. Well, two (I'm always forgetting about the future of Construction HQ). Yesterday I went to Kinko's to print the Galusha brochure, until the clerk told me it would be $500. So tomorrow I go print-shop shopping.
There, I feel better.
I finally met the famous Norm, the guy my architect calls "Bitter Beer Face" man. He was all smiles to me, tho, maybe it was the tango outfit. He's going to be around for, like, forever, making those walls stretch to improbable heights. Already Galusha has a little fence of forms around it, only one story so far. The architect says everything will just start to look bigger and bigger from here on out.
Past the first floor, it's like you're carving out space in the sky to live in. That's why skyscrapers always struck me as the ultimate example of capitalistic audacity. You only needed a small square of land to rent to hundreds, thousands ...
Me, I'm just looking for one buyer. Well, two (I'm always forgetting about the future of Construction HQ). Yesterday I went to Kinko's to print the Galusha brochure, until the clerk told me it would be $500. So tomorrow I go print-shop shopping.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
E-mail of the day, from the architect:
"Four + concrete trucks.
"Very exciting.
"Your neighbor's son was pretty thrilled."
I can't wait to go home and see!
"Four + concrete trucks.
"Very exciting.
"Your neighbor's son was pretty thrilled."
I can't wait to go home and see!
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
It was a glorious 60-degree morning pedaling into work, almost springlike after this weekend's big freeze. The air felt moist, promising, and -- if possible -- fecund.
I sang "El Dia Que Me Quieres" all the way. Music can mine the joy from sorrow, and no one perhaps did it best than Carlos Gardel.
Tomorrow's Pour Day at the minidevelopment, and I went out to take my weekly photos of the setup for the footings. Galusha's appears as a simple box, and Mabel has its sweet angled tango bindery, where TT and I have already danced. It was muddy and it was a few weeks ago, but we were there, careful not to fall into the troughs that are the outline of the house.
Now the rebar pokes up every couple feet along the "walls," like a giant acupuncture experiment.
Another neighbor came by to chat yesterday morning. She's lived on the block all her life and remembers the middle of the block as a forest, excellent turf for neighborhood kids. I didn't tell her the houses were named for the Baileys, but she remembers Mabel and Galusha well and says she played often in Construction HQ. Mabel and Galusha raised four kids in the 841-square-foot gem, proof that families often did so much more with so much less -- and not so long ago.
I hope we get the early pour tomorrow, so I can see some of the action before leaving for work. BTW, dear blog readers, there are enhancements available now: pictures! Check them in the margin at right, and check back for more soon.
I sang "El Dia Que Me Quieres" all the way. Music can mine the joy from sorrow, and no one perhaps did it best than Carlos Gardel.
Tomorrow's Pour Day at the minidevelopment, and I went out to take my weekly photos of the setup for the footings. Galusha's appears as a simple box, and Mabel has its sweet angled tango bindery, where TT and I have already danced. It was muddy and it was a few weeks ago, but we were there, careful not to fall into the troughs that are the outline of the house.
Now the rebar pokes up every couple feet along the "walls," like a giant acupuncture experiment.
Another neighbor came by to chat yesterday morning. She's lived on the block all her life and remembers the middle of the block as a forest, excellent turf for neighborhood kids. I didn't tell her the houses were named for the Baileys, but she remembers Mabel and Galusha well and says she played often in Construction HQ. Mabel and Galusha raised four kids in the 841-square-foot gem, proof that families often did so much more with so much less -- and not so long ago.
I hope we get the early pour tomorrow, so I can see some of the action before leaving for work. BTW, dear blog readers, there are enhancements available now: pictures! Check them in the margin at right, and check back for more soon.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Walking out of the title office this morning, I swear I heard a chorus of angels heralding the close of the Mabel loan. I can't say how many phone calls went into the deal, but I do know it took 2 banks and about eight months of meetings to make it happen. What a relief, tho: Now not only have I broken ground, it appears I'll have the money to pay for it and continue! Onward and upward.
The concrete guy comes tomorrow to start building the forms. The excavator brought in a ton of gravel so the lots aren't mud flats anymore, and the holes where Mabel and Galusha will rise look like little mazes, showing where the footings and walls will go.
The architect and I finished up the exterior electrical plan last week, and then I woke up all worried yesterday morning, wondering if the doorbells had been accounted for. There are so many details to building from scratch, and it's funny: You never notice, walking into a house, that everything's just there already. But you bet you'd notice if it wasn't.
Over New Year's I picked up house numbers in Paris. I love the big fat Bodoni typeface and that color blue that can either look totally classy or groovy Mediterranean. Either way, it's fitting my vision of Mabel and Galusha as an internationally flavored complex. But since there were no four-digit configurations I had to go for "36" and "17," which I'll have to stack. The architect seemed to be warming to the ploy, but he's still worried for the mailman.
The concrete guy comes tomorrow to start building the forms. The excavator brought in a ton of gravel so the lots aren't mud flats anymore, and the holes where Mabel and Galusha will rise look like little mazes, showing where the footings and walls will go.
The architect and I finished up the exterior electrical plan last week, and then I woke up all worried yesterday morning, wondering if the doorbells had been accounted for. There are so many details to building from scratch, and it's funny: You never notice, walking into a house, that everything's just there already. But you bet you'd notice if it wasn't.
Over New Year's I picked up house numbers in Paris. I love the big fat Bodoni typeface and that color blue that can either look totally classy or groovy Mediterranean. Either way, it's fitting my vision of Mabel and Galusha as an internationally flavored complex. But since there were no four-digit configurations I had to go for "36" and "17," which I'll have to stack. The architect seemed to be warming to the ploy, but he's still worried for the mailman.
