Monday, February 28, 2005
Last Thursday was another big-drama day, made even more so because they poured the highest points of the concrete fins on Galusha. To do that, the massive truck stayed in the driveway (I mean, it hardly fit between the two streetfront bungalows) and a crane arched over the top of the bigleaf maple, looking like some giant praying mantis giving a concrete injection.
I know all this because Mom came into town a half-hour before and documented everything with my digital. I played it all as a slideshow last night, and it was cool!
By the time I got home, everything had mellowed considerably. The crew seemed content, and when I asked how it went. They said, "Great. This time Norm told the inspector what he was going to do." I smell a moral in there. I didn't know it, but the inspector does all his tests on-site. Whereas I'd thought he drove the slurry over to some fancy lab, he just cooks it all up in miscellaneous buckets out there in the back yard. Rather homespun of him. Again, I know all this from the pictures.
Now that the fins are readily visible from side streets, the people are coming to look. I had about 10 visitors this weekend, less than half of them planned. All others were neighbors or neighborhood walkers or even a prospective buyer -- curious as all get out. It's cute how excited/amazed they are; in fact, the only ones who bug me are the folks who just go walking back there without a wave, a knock, or an appointment.
I know all this because Mom came into town a half-hour before and documented everything with my digital. I played it all as a slideshow last night, and it was cool!
By the time I got home, everything had mellowed considerably. The crew seemed content, and when I asked how it went. They said, "Great. This time Norm told the inspector what he was going to do." I smell a moral in there. I didn't know it, but the inspector does all his tests on-site. Whereas I'd thought he drove the slurry over to some fancy lab, he just cooks it all up in miscellaneous buckets out there in the back yard. Rather homespun of him. Again, I know all this from the pictures.
Now that the fins are readily visible from side streets, the people are coming to look. I had about 10 visitors this weekend, less than half of them planned. All others were neighbors or neighborhood walkers or even a prospective buyer -- curious as all get out. It's cute how excited/amazed they are; in fact, the only ones who bug me are the folks who just go walking back there without a wave, a knock, or an appointment.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
These days I'm in awe of strong men. Looking out the kitchen window I'll see a pile of lumber or rebar arrive, and just as quickly it lands in a pile, then the pile moves clear across the lot next time I look. It's so cool. Also, I'm in awe of people not scared of heights. This morning I saw that a couple of Norm's concrete guys were clinging to the formwork of the second floor "fin" on Galusha, gaily chatting in the sunshine and casually discussing their building plan.
It was all I could do to climb up the ladder that led to the second floor sill of Galusha and hang out there a while last week. It's not like I didn't want to: It was awesome going up there to have a look around and realizing that not only might Galusha have the Mount Hood view, it definitely has a Mount St. Helens view. Mom said to expect some surprises, and there's a sweet one.
Meanwhile, I made the deadline to apply for a grant from the city's Office of Sustainable Development for all the "green" features in the house. When you add them up -- radiant heat systems, vegetated swale, wheatboard everywhere -- it's quite an investment. Given that the city required the swale, and I reduce the burden on city services by taking the runoff problem for myself, it's only fair it might help pay for it.
Now that Galusha is born and still edging up into the sky, it's Mabel's turn. I noticed the guys were walking all over the footings yesterday and promising piles of metal and wood have started to appear there.
P.S. The concrete job can be patched!
It was all I could do to climb up the ladder that led to the second floor sill of Galusha and hang out there a while last week. It's not like I didn't want to: It was awesome going up there to have a look around and realizing that not only might Galusha have the Mount Hood view, it definitely has a Mount St. Helens view. Mom said to expect some surprises, and there's a sweet one.
Meanwhile, I made the deadline to apply for a grant from the city's Office of Sustainable Development for all the "green" features in the house. When you add them up -- radiant heat systems, vegetated swale, wheatboard everywhere -- it's quite an investment. Given that the city required the swale, and I reduce the burden on city services by taking the runoff problem for myself, it's only fair it might help pay for it.
Now that Galusha is born and still edging up into the sky, it's Mabel's turn. I noticed the guys were walking all over the footings yesterday and promising piles of metal and wood have started to appear there.
P.S. The concrete job can be patched!
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Depending on whom you ask, the pour went OK, badly, or terrible. At first I was of the former group, and now I'm waiting til the architect comes back, to gauge his reaction and then determine how much worse I should feel. I'm missing all my usual barometers. The builder was grim on Friday, and the best thing he said was, shaking his head, "It's a helluva repair job." The concrete guy came by later, and said worse. To reprise one of our infamous headlines, Now the accusations fly. It seems the inspector's taking the brunt.
I'm wondering, given this and the the problem-plagued porch at the old bungalow, maybe I have some kind of concrete hex? But how could that be, given my family's historic ... foundation in it?
Argh.
I'm wondering, given this and the the problem-plagued porch at the old bungalow, maybe I have some kind of concrete hex? But how could that be, given my family's historic ... foundation in it?
Argh.
Thursday, February 10, 2005
Supposedly, the first pour went in today for the walls, and I can't wait to go home and see.
I've started mailing out the Galusha brochures, and yesterday I got my first call, from a real estate agent who had looked at the yellow bungalow last summer. (I saved the cards of all the agents I liked.) He asked all kinds of questions, saying he had 2 clients from the Bay Area who were looking for 2 houses that, if not joined, were adjacent to each other. Voilà Mabel and Galusha. He seemed a bit dispirited when I mentioned Mabel was meant for me. His clients' budget, tho, is a million, so -- uh -- all is negotiable.
Of course, I keep my expectations on low, having learned from the Nicole fiasco. I keep shaking my head over that, wondering if I'll learn to trust my instincts every time.
The excavator's Bobcat kicked up the cutest little teddy bear that had been embalmed in the dirt for decades. After a bath, he's still kind of smudged and you can tell where the family dog did some gnawing, but it's just another reminder of what a play haven the land used to be. I mean to keep that tradition going.
Meanwhile, I probably have enough discovered trinkets (including Dennis's rifle-cleaning instructions) to make a neat Joseph Cornell-style box.
I've started mailing out the Galusha brochures, and yesterday I got my first call, from a real estate agent who had looked at the yellow bungalow last summer. (I saved the cards of all the agents I liked.) He asked all kinds of questions, saying he had 2 clients from the Bay Area who were looking for 2 houses that, if not joined, were adjacent to each other. Voilà Mabel and Galusha. He seemed a bit dispirited when I mentioned Mabel was meant for me. His clients' budget, tho, is a million, so -- uh -- all is negotiable.
Of course, I keep my expectations on low, having learned from the Nicole fiasco. I keep shaking my head over that, wondering if I'll learn to trust my instincts every time.
The excavator's Bobcat kicked up the cutest little teddy bear that had been embalmed in the dirt for decades. After a bath, he's still kind of smudged and you can tell where the family dog did some gnawing, but it's just another reminder of what a play haven the land used to be. I mean to keep that tradition going.
Meanwhile, I probably have enough discovered trinkets (including Dennis's rifle-cleaning instructions) to make a neat Joseph Cornell-style box.
Thursday, February 03, 2005
All's more quiet on the avenue now that the tweakers seemed to have decamped.
But it sure is getting noisy in the back yard with crews putting up all the formwork on Galusha (see pic at right). Meanwhile, the architect, builder, and I wrestle over rough openings, kitchen layout, and window sizes. I finally got tired of worrying about lighting and recruited a lighting-design person for a meeting that I hope will get me going. Of course, my builder says I should be worrying about plumbing fixtures first!
BTW, the stunning (thank you, Grok God!) Galusha brochure is hot off the press and making the rounds. Any of you blog readers want one, e-mail your snail address to manau913 at aol (dot) com. (I wrote that strangely to avoid the spambots.)
But it sure is getting noisy in the back yard with crews putting up all the formwork on Galusha (see pic at right). Meanwhile, the architect, builder, and I wrestle over rough openings, kitchen layout, and window sizes. I finally got tired of worrying about lighting and recruited a lighting-design person for a meeting that I hope will get me going. Of course, my builder says I should be worrying about plumbing fixtures first!
BTW, the stunning (thank you, Grok God!) Galusha brochure is hot off the press and making the rounds. Any of you blog readers want one, e-mail your snail address to manau913 at aol (dot) com. (I wrote that strangely to avoid the spambots.)
