holiday

It's quiet here in my common room on Vermont Street, the living room part of our new home that is open to kitchen and eating areas. Jake is off playing at Devon's, who has digital games. (Jake recently informed Maxine and me with great frustration that he is the last child in America without any digital games or direct TV. He'll live.) The rain on our metal roof is the steady and quiet white noise of today's background, adding to an atmosphere of rest. The wood stove pops and sends out a warm embrace.Maxine says I sprained my back on Mt. Hood yesterday in part because it was so clear that I could use a day or two just being. Just being on the couch. Ice has become my good friend all day. I realize it's been 3 weeks from my last post, and the "remember me" function on the host page doesn't remember me. I'm thinking it is just being snarfy. Now would be a good time for catching up a tad.A great nagging concern during the construction of this home was that when completed, it would not meet my standards. In our career at New Energy Works Timber Frame Homes, we've done fine work. We've been blessed with great clients, and they've expressed their thanks and their enjoyment of the home. But I simply did not know what to expect upon moving into one of our works, deep inside.

I am blown away by what we have created, of what we do as a company.

My irrationally high bar has been reached. Maxine agrees. ( Jake too, although he wishes it was closer to Devon.) Maxine has been saying that she feels like she is house sitting for someone very special, and that soon they are coming home, and we will be asked to leave. In late evening I sit and gaze at the sculpture in which we live and watch shadows, space and tone.

The house welcomed us and our family for our Christmas gathering. Sure there were packing boxes about, and we certainly didn't know how to work everything. People cut you a lot of slack in moments like this. The new space shone through the chaos.Now the holiday season ends. We're back to work finishing a thousand details and the studio next door. Maxine cooks fresh pirogies for the gang and Val sees his chance to deconstruct the ginger bread house, leaving only teeth marks.

move in

I had said for many months that we would be in for the holidays. By golly we made it, with help from a shoe horn and some olive oil. Activity and its buddy exhaustion reached a peak. Noel the clay plasterer scrubbed walls one last time, Maxine scrubbed shower tile for the first time, we vacuumed until late each night and fought for a temporary certificate of occupancy.
The plastic foams we'd been saving got loaded in Michael's van. We were able to recycle the expanded polystyrene (think coffee cup stuff,) that is too often used for packaging. Various hard plastics for strapping etc. also got recycled.
I was surprised that we couldn't recycle the #7 polyisocyanurate (above) that Hubbardton Forge uses for its packaging, unless we wanted to transport it to Hayword, California. REALLY disappointed, and am writing them a letter. I understand their need to protect the glass shades. How about this wild serrated corrogated cardboard that came with the stove from Scandanavia? Michael came to a great solution, though: he'll going to break it up into small pieces and throw it into his attic for additional r-value.
Friday was moving day. We lifted and carried and loaded and drove. Three trips for the 24' U-Haul, plus our vehicles. My calves are still burning. A bunch of boxes that hadn't been opened in 18 months.
It's very hard to describe the feeling I have occupying this home. As things get put away and we can find our wallets, our socks and our senses, drawer pulls get installed, the lighting gets programmed... I accept it all with wonder. Perhaps with the most excitement, we get a tree and light the stove.
...and pose for a group picture with the crew. From left is Hobart, Michael, Jake River, Maxine, me, David and Val. Quite an effort, quite a team.
Dexter and Annie Brown express their own levels of comfort.

There's still much to do, and we'll push on both with our hammers and this journal. Next up is a breakdown of the home systems and methods, furniture design, the completion of the studio, and my own once-again changing role.

For this weekend, we'll rest (and ski!) Maxine's mom Irene is here helping, Dean and brother Paul are on their way. Sierra and Sheila (who ALMOST didn't get through O'Hare last night) are coming, some friends and neighbors are stopping by. There's a gingerbread house to bake. From all of us here at The Vermont Street Project, from New Energy Works Timber Frame Homes and Pioneer Millworks, Have a Merry Christmas, a Happy Hanukah, and a Great New Year.

2009, a house odyssey

It's 10pm, and I'm getting in from the site a bit late again. Dragging less than I would have thought. We're into the last few days before move-in, and this is about fun and spark. Val and Michael stayed on until past 7, and we had some burritos and beer, chatted through the world's problems, but mostly just wound down. Then I got some private time to just doodle in the quiet space. This is that magical time when so little, relatively, is left to do and the house is about to be launched from project status on toward becoming a home. Our home.

Do you remember the Velveteen Rabbit, by Margery Williams? A stuffed rabbit has to be loved to become real. (Really, you've got to read this.) Gets tattered and worn along the way, but eventually becomes real, because it is truly loved. The Vermont Street Project is stepping into its own velveteen journey now. Time to become a home, old friend. Plan to get worn along the way.

Tonight I dallied a bit in the dusky empty spaces... doing stuff. You know, good and necessary stuff, like some more cleaning, and putting second coats of oil on a couple of floors, and painting the pipes of the Rais wood stove a proper gray, and finishing installing Hal. Hal is the refrigerator. He doesn't move around much without help, but he's quite a bit smarter than me, and there's a lot to him. There's so much to him that Val suggested that we might want to get him his own Facebook page. No I mean it. Last night Val and I and Justin the plumber spent hours with Hal. (I should note that earlier, a good many of us had about broken our backs getting Hal off my old Ford '78 pick up, up the walk and in through the front door. To give you an idea how heavy he is, 3 people spontaneously burst out laughing at the appliance place when they set in into my truck bed and the springs shot from smile to frown in excited immediacy.) Once in place, we had to give him water, electricity, hook up his hard drive with antenna so he could... I dunno what, communicate? It took a few minutes but when we found the hidden "On" button the insides look like a well-lit runway and the LED controls were clearly calling out to us.Then we wiggled this and adjusted that. And then we wiggled this some more and adjusted that QUITE a bit more. This dance went on for a while, but with both satisfaction and growing anticipation we could tell the battle was going our way. He's tight into his niche now, comfortable and secured. I just need to figure out what he's trying to say to me.

Hal is a Miele 36" single door with bottom freezer. model #KF1901SF. This is an amazingly well made appliance; German company, made in Turkey. Almost all of our appliances are Miele, and most made in Germany. BASCO, our supplier in Portland, has been extraordinary to work with, and has a showroom that will make you weep.