Nuts and Bolts (and Therms and Kilowatts)

We have had some big days here at Houthpith--days with workers swarming everywhere jabberjawing at one another; days with gigantic, noisy machines doing huge things; days where the progress on the house is readily observable, and days where something cool was installed.

And I must confess here and now that, while I have been involved in the house design, Charlie and Ann have done the heavy lifting.

And I also must confess that the nuts and bolts of the place are what intrigue me most, even if I don't understand it all (see any entry on the heating system). And it's nice to plan to implement something in theory that will work. I say 'in theory' here because while others may have experience in these matters, I don't.

So this is a long way of saying that one of those theories, namely heat retention, has produced objective results.

The bill for gas and electric has arrived for the dates from November 17 to December 17. Last year we spent approximately $525 on propane and $212 for electric for a total of $737, for the same time period.

This year we had some windows partially open, some doors that blew open overnight, compressors, and saws, and things operating--not to mention the heating of the chicken coop with heat lamps and space heaters.

And while the solar panels are installed, they are not yet connected.

And the monthly bill for both gas and electric came to--get this--$171.

To quote Meriwether Lewis (or was it Clark?)--"O the Joy!"

Bathroom Floor Down . . .

. . . and lots of staining and varnishing got done.

A Traditional Christmas

As you are no doubt aware, we are staunch conservatives around here and traditionalists as well.

And we spent Christmas in the traditional way--by staining and varnishing.

What did you say? Not traditional! We differ.

It turns out that recent research has ever so slightly altered the story of the birth of Jesus. Yes, Mary and Joseph spent the night in a stable, but not because there was no room left in the inn.

It was because inside the inn, they were staining and varnishing, and Mary, being large with child, could not stand the fumes.

When we discovered that our favorite past time was part of the birth of Jesus, we just had to go over and celebrate. And celebrate we did, recognizing the important event over and over and over for almost 5 straight hours.

We are exhausted now and looking for a stable ourselves.

The 100th Post!

It's hard to believe that we have posted 100 of these rambling benedictions. It can only mean one of two things, or probably both.

One, we are getting close to completion (relatively speaking), and/or two, you, faithful reader have been bestowed with inordinate patience.

To give credence to the 'getting close' part, the entryway tile has been laid and extends into the hall closet and the guest bath.

To give credence to the 'inordinate patience', here's Bob, who has a black belt in inordinate patience, precariously perched on a plank perchance to put up window framing.

On, Over, In and Out

Ah, another beautiful day (25 degrees (Fahrenheit) in the Northwoods allowed Marc and his solar crew up on the roof to insulate pipes and install the DC motor drive. This will derive energy from the sun to pump the liquid through the pipes in the panel downstairs to the heat storage device.

Inside, where it's toasty warm the varnishing crew is hard at work. (NOTE: Fingernails intact and remain unharmed.)
And just where's Emma? Waiting, waiting waiting. Oh, by the way, the garage door is up.

Interior-A-Go-Go

These are a portion of the bath tiles.
This is the tile for the front entry (I think).
Perry, the tile guy, is getting the DuRock in and lining up the plan for the glass block.
With the tile and all the associated equipment, plus the soundproofing going in downstairs, plus the finish carpentry, plus the staining and varnishing, the upshot is that we are all sort of running into and over one another around here . . .
. . . and it's going to take a little sorting out.

Frank Lloyd Wright Would be Proud (or Horrified)

An explanation for the paucity of posts of late is in order.

The short story is, it's our fault.

The longer version is that we bit off much, much more than we could chew with this staining and varnishing.

We have hit the varnishing wall so many times that our foreheads are bruised. So the guys started another job while waiting for us to finish.

We have decided to plug along as best we can while looking for a professional stainer/varnisher type to complete the work.

I didn't think pictures of us banging our heads against the wall would be particularly interesting, nor would actual pictures of us varnishing.

But today some additional action occurred!

Meet Matt.

Matt is putting in the base cedar tree trunk and the platforms to hold the . . .

. . . OK, I don't know what to call it. I've been calling it the 'Twig Thing'. But as Brian reminds others, that only shows that I don't know what it is.

Matt called it a 'Thicket', which I sort of like too.

The idea is that a placement of tree limbs in various layouts will grace the top of the ground floor wall, providing guests with some privacy while also allowing for a connection to the outdoors.

Frank Lloyd Wright, the originator or 'Organic Architecture' in the early 20th Century, created a belief that attempted to bring the outdoors into his buildings. He was so fanatical about it that when a client complained of a leaky roof, he convinced them that that was a necessary by-product of his architectural style.

I think I draw the line at leaky roofs and openings to the outside, but can deal with a 'Twig Thing.'


Oh, my gosh! Everywhere we look there are boards to varnish.

Accident Reconstruction

It'a difficult to understand all the hoohah over Tiger Woods, when my dear wife was caught in a life struggle at our (temporary) finger chewing garage door.

Heroically cradling four eggs in her left hand, her right hand became caught in the maw of this beast.

Note the claw marks on the steel framed door. Her valiant attempt to free herself while preserving the four brown eggs rivals Tiger Woods' wife's heroic attempt to free him from his disabled vehicle.

Ann's superpowers allow her fingers to do some damage to the garage door, cratering the panels above and below her hand.

But the eggs; oh, the eggs survived giving testimony to her bravery and determination.