Buildlogue #26 – Closed House

Friday 15 August, and we’re on Construction Day 41. Compared to previous months in 2014, August has been rather a wet month for rain, clocking 179+mm for the first half, as opposed to the 163 high for 31 days of May. The continual dampness is probably one of the contributing factors which has led to the project being drawn out more than we expected.

Why is the title of this post “Closed House”? Well, because that’s the description of the extension wing construction for Saturday and Sunday 16 and 17 August. All window and door openings have been sealed and two dehumidifier machines have been installed in the closed system in an attempt to dry out the framing timber as much as possible.

The building inspector can only give the green light to installing the internal cladding once his moisture meter gives readings within the acceptable limits. Looking at some of the baseboards of the framing, that green light is currently burning a dull…, how can I put this diplomatically?… in a sort of… deep… blackish colour. Not quite what I would call green.

(Above): The fitting of weatherboard continues and should be completed, more or less, on Monday. This is the view of the eastern facade from the kitchen window. The laundry window is on the left and the bathroom on the right.

(Above): Seamus is tasked with unentangling the pink Batts (what we used to know as “Think Pink”) insulation for the ceilings. A product by the same company will be fitted to the bedroom walls as sound-deadening acoustic filler.

(Above): Pink Batts fitted to the ceilings is somewhat simpler and quicker if it is done before the ceiling board is installed. The place immediately feels a lot warmer.

(Above): Cladding outside the sitting-room on the western wall.

Buildlogue #25– Nearing the End of Phase 2

Quite some time has passed since we last looked the construction site of the extension at Chartwell. In fact, we are now approaching the end of Phase 2 which brings us to the point where the structure is fairly weather-tight and ready for the internal construction.

For the record, we are now at 14 August 2014 which is Construction Day 40. We’ve had the electrician Jacques in to do the complete wiring  and the roofers on a couple of occasions. They have completed their job, and it appears to be satisfactorily water-tight. The plumber Todd has laid his water supply pipes and waste water drain pipes, and is currently in consultation with the KCDC in respect of the waste water treatment unit.

The builders have each been hit with a bout of the flu, and one can sympathise with them, as they need to earn a living despite the old and wet conditions doled out by Winter.

Today, the rough-sawn weatherboard was delivered and I started back-priming and applying the first coat to the front of the boards.

(Above): It’s hell on the back – either too low or too high, using trestles on which to coat the weatherboards. No sooner is a batch of boards coated than the sky decides to let a batch of raindrops on the paint before it has a chance to dry. And so on…

(Above): The cladding in place on the bedroom and dressing-room walls on the north side (with the narrow section of the deck to be constructed under the roof overhang.

(Above): The cladding fixed in place on the west-facing bedroom wall. The French doors will open onto the main part of the deck still to be constructed.

(Above): The French window frame on the floor prior to installation.

(Above) Ricky standing in the bathroom, ready to receive the window frame for the bathroom.

(Above): Windows fixed in place, laundry on the left and the bathroom on the right.

(Above): Heave-ho! Lifting the three-panel frame with double-glazing is quite heavy, despite its light-weight appearance.

(Above): Whew! Quite a job, but the frame is eventually seated properly and level in its new home-to-be.

(Above): The dressing-room window is an example of a typical window installation in the timber framing.

(Above) Obscure (frosted) glass window in the bathroom.

I Am Going Outside… I May Be A While

14 August 2014. She certainly is no Eiger, nor K2, but the Kapakapanui is a mere 1100 metres above sea level, and quite close to the coast – a minor peak is what they call her.

But she is ours and she is close by. Now for a bit of an admission – I am not 100% certain what part of the mountain makes up the Kapakapanui, but I wait for a reader to enlighten me…

Just over 100 years ago Captain Titus Oates went outside on the Ross Ice Shelf. Today just over 100 years later I went outside, down to the S-bend corner, where I had a decent view of ‘Kapa-kapa’, our very own K2. I wasn’t outside for very long, because I almost froze my butt off!

(Above): View of our K2 from the S-bend. This morning I was busy painting weather boards in relatively pleasant weather. This afternoon, the temperature had plummeted, we’d had a bit of thunder and lightning and some hail. Then it became colder… Although the snow is not comparable to the falls anywhere else, we are a stone’s throw from the beach.

(Above): The pictures are not very much to look at, but I preserve them for the record. Snow-capped pines along a very definite altitude line.

Cat On A Hot Tin Roof

When Tennessee Williams wrote way back when, he used a cat as a symbol. Like writers do. I never bothered with theatre, or even movies, come to think of it. Perhaps that’s why I turned out to be a crappy writer. And a lazy one, at that.

Anyway, I’m using TW’s title as a symbol too. Sort of, I think.

(Above): Jade (the very precious one), who happens to pee on Brynn’s sneaker for some special, perhaps symbolic reason. Jade is much like any other domestic cat. She has special spots where she sleeps at various times during the day and night. On a hot day, the best place to find Jade is safe and sound, high atop the water tank in the garden. Don’t bother looking there if there is any ominousity ominousness bad weather in the sky…

It appears that she performs a regular morning ritual wherein she sits like a crouching tiger on the upstairs landing above our entrance hall, staring rather disdainfully in a haughty manner at the two Labradors Benny and Sophie, who are not allowed upstairs on the carpeted floor. The stare an last anything from a minute or two to a quarter of an hour, depending on how long the dogs remain. She may be practicing her hypnotism 101?

The moral of the story? I’m not quite sure, but I suspect it has something to do with being careful about how you treat cats if you’re a dog…

‘A’ is for Apricot

We greeted Sunday 10 August under a promising sky. Promising good conditions for working outdoors in the garden. The tasks to be tackled were reduced to fruit tree planting only.

We had plans to plant five new fruit saplings/graftees in specific positions, and I remembered them alphabetically as Apricot, Apricot, Plum, Plum, Fig. Technically more correct, they are: (1) Clutha Gold Apricot (on peach rootstock), (2) Moorpark Apricot (on Myrobalan apricot rootstock), (3) Billington Plum, (4) Black Doris Plum, and (5) Ventura Fig.

(Above) Clayton and Tyler untying the trees and inspecting carefully for… well, for stuff which only tree experts such as they are, understand. Technical stuff, you understand.

(Above): Five holes were dug in the correct positions, relative to the existing fruit trees. The depth was about 500mm and the diameter about 300 to 400, depending on the root mass of the particular tree concerned.

Next, we prepared the fill, consisting of equal parts of composted soil and the in-situ gravelly stuff, plus some other secret yummy stuff, all thoroughly mixed together in the wheel-barrow. The trees were then positioned vertically and horizontally so that the stems married with the natural ground level, and tethered at two levels to a sturdy vertical support stake, which will act as the trees’ companions for next few years.

(Above): Clayton the Tree-Planter-In-Chief does a final check on the posture of this Moorpark Apricot, while Brynn and Tyler express their approval for Dad’s green-fingered handiwork.

(Above): A view of Apricot, Apricot, Plum in a neat row. The holes were filled and firmly compacted, mulched but leaving the stem uncovered, and watered with 15 litres of pure rainwater each.

After a beer, the gardener could put up his feet after a job well done. Now to wait for the fruit to ripen… Depending on the type, that could be anything between two and five years…

Hole in the Wall

I am led to believe that Hole in the Wall is a Fox TV game show based on the Japanese Nokabe

I first encountered the “Hole in the Wall” as a pub-restaurant in Somerset West South Africa, where we had a few meals, including one end-of-year office staff “Christmas” dinner. I can still recall many of the workmates as if it was yesterday, despite it having happened in the seventies.

This insignificant recollection was triggered by the electrician working on our extension. In connecting the main electrical power source from the existing house distribution board to a sub-board of the new-wing-to-be, he needed to access the board from the back/top, and found that this was best achieved by cutting a hole in the ceiling above the board in the pantry…

(Above): Hole in the wall ceiling. Close enough.

As if that coincidence wasn’t enough, the same electrician was working on the bathroom electrics and tackled the wiring for the steam extractor fan unit. It exhausts through a 100mm flexible pipe to the exterior of the building via a louvred grid in the soffit. He achieved this with a circular saw attachment to his electric drill.

(Above): Another hole in the wall soffit. The flexible ducting protruding from the soffit outside the bathroom.

The Duck That Didn’t

It has been a number of days since my last blog, but time flies when you’re doing stuff. That’s my excuse, but in truth, I guess that laziness is probably the main culprit. That’s my excuse and I sticking to it.

The weather hasn’t been all that flash, with persistent showers whenever they were not wanted. A delay in the delivery of some of the building materials and flu/head colds for the builders added to delays in the construction program as well.

But, before I digress too much, back to the Duck.

Hey diddle diddle
the cat and the fiddle
the cow jumped over the moon…

Whilst the old nursery rhyme gave kiddies the impression that a cow was doing Neil Armstrong impressions, the writer surely saw a cow hopping over an obstacle (like a fence) on a moonlit night with the moon conveniently in the background.

Because that’s what cows continuously do. Jumping over fences, not the moon. It happens repeatedly in Reikorangi, and frequently causes a stir and a flurry of objections about irresponsible stock owners who neglect the maintenance on their fences. Perhaps they can cut their wings a bit, like you do with chickens…

Ngatiawa Road is a fairly narrow and winding country road, at places more of a lane, and subject to a traffic speed limit of 100 kph. All that is great, until you meet a bull standing in the middle of a dark road around a sharp bend.

That is also great if you’re on foot for a walk, and you approach the beast with care and caution, “Hallo, Mr Bull. What a lovely evening for standing in the middle of the road and staring blankly into space. So wonderful for the psyche, don’t you think?”

But, if you’re in a car, travelling a bit faster, you might just, as the old pilots would say, buy the farm. And that’s not so great.

Whilst this scenario might be a figment of my imagination, the situation of Mr Bull is genuine. He was quite a large and muscular guy, standing firmly in the middle of the road en-poo (that’s an old French term for being in the process of producing a quantity of cow dung – actually bull, but that sounds like a load of bs… He was nonchalantly surveying the Milky Way, is quite genuine.

Luckily, my encounter (by car, not on foot!) happened in broad daylight, so I was able to take appropriate action (Like run drive away. Fast. He looks quite fierce and large.)

Whilst no-one collided with this guy, a smaller (feathered) friend of his, forgot to duck when a car came speeding along. He ended up as what is known in the butchery trade, a “flattie.”

(Above) McDuck on the tarmac. I trust he would not be assimilated by his compatriot Scottish friend McDonald.

(Above): A short distance from the prone remains of McDuck, I managed to snap this picture of some of his pals paddling around close to the road. Unfortunately, this beautiful creatures do not understand the internal combustion engine concept, so they, like the proverbial chicken, frequently cross the road…

Buildlogue #24 - After The Rains

Construction Days 31 and 32 were Friday 1st and Monday 4 August2014, with a weekend of torrential rain in between. The roofers arrived and did some metal sheeting, but were unable to attend to the heat-sealing of the waterproofing membrane under the wet conditions (we had no less than 122mm on Saturday/Sunday!), until today Monday, a typical sunshine Spring day in the middle of Winter!

Builder John’s men went about their carpentry duties as a united team and one team ended the day with considerable visible progress on numerous aspects of preparation for fixing the external wall cladding, whilst another completed cutting and installing all the ceiling batons in each roof, giving the almost-dry floors a bit of a clean-up. The place is starting to look more like part of a house and less of a building site. Can’t wait…

(Above): This shows the pine batons around the window frame to which the external rusticated weatherboards will be attached. The blue tape is called “blue tape” and is stapled over the weatherproof fibre Tekton sheeting. At the bottom of the sheeting, they fix a white perforated plastic channel which acts as a water-drain as an escape passage for possible inter-layer moisture, but prevents access by insects, vermin, etc

(Above): View from the bedroom looking towards the sitting room, with all the ceiling batons affixed as well as the outer weatherboard batons on the right. The place now looks like a jungle of pink timber. Or perhaps a jungle-gym of timber?

(Above): The view of the dressing-room window and roof overhang behind the bedroom. The roof sheeting has been completed, with the exception of the corner on the left and the western side of the bedroom on the right. The roofers are apparently scheduled to return Tuesday 5th to complete their contract.

(Above): As Builder John has not been contracted to do any painting of the exterior surfaces, we have started with the application of first coat to the 200x25mm fascia boards with a Wattyl Paint product called Solagard. The colour, I’ve discovered, is a standard metal roof colour called ‘Karaka’ a dark blackish Brunswick Green. For some strange reason, the colour in this picture came out completely different, because of the reflection of the afternoon sunlight! There is about 30 linear metres of board which have been coated on both sides. Once they have been fitted (and probably the PVC gutters have been affixed to them), I will apply a final finishing coat.

(Above): Next to the ladder in the laundry stand a couple of the 2.4x1.2 panels of what I know as “Flexit”, a type of fibre-cement board which will be cut to size and used as soffit. I have always called it a “soff-fit”, but in New Zealand, the building trade uses the French version “sof-feet.” We have primed six of these boards with a white acrylic sealer.

Another paint job for outside surfaces on my agenda are applying two coats of weathering acrylic paint to both sides of all the weatherboards. These may be delivered to-morrow, and I’ll have a better idea of the volume of work involved.

John has also indicated that he will soon start with the wooden deck outside the bedroom French windows. The main material is in narrow floorboard size decking strips, which also require a couple of coats of Solagard acrylic to both sides. The deck is an add-on project which does not form part of the original plan, as it is of such a size and height above ground level that it does not require planning permission. I will also re-coat the deck outside the main bedroom with the same colour paint. The ladies have chosen “Rustic Brown” for these surfaces. Whilst some people may perhaps find painting a monotonous bore, I experience it as an enjoyable light physical exercise creative activity… More reports and pictures on this next time.

Buildlogue #23–Interlude

Construction Day 30 is 31 July 2014, scheduled for work on another site by Builder John’s team. The Quin roofing guys were due to arrive in the afternoon for a spell.

Overnight, we’d had some high gale-force winds with occasional monumental gusts, which all but threatened to rip the roots from under the trees. Then the wind abated a bit and the clouds opened up during our sleeping hours, delivering 8 mm between midnight and 7:00 am – I thought to myself that the roof guys would possibly be affected.

I took advantage of the lull in developments and drove down to Lower Hutt on a couple of long-outstanding errands and also to get some dark green paint for the fascias (in my Neutron days, we called the colour Old Cape Dutch Green or Heritage Green, and it was made of 4.5 litres Gloss Mid Brunswick Green and 500ml Black Gloss); John had already delivered me some sealer/primer to apply as undercoat for the soffit boards.

When I returned a number of hours later, Jeanette reported that the guys had been, had worked on one side of the roof, but had left again. Probably something to do with the impending rain.

I couldn’t start painting the fascias, as I have just discovered that they are half a metre longer than the garage, so that painting in the face of impending showers is not a sensible option. Oh, well… I’ll take a couple of photos for the record.

(Above): The view of the (light grey) rubberised membrane-covered roof waterproofing.

(Above): The view of the green metal roof on the eastern side above the laundry, bathroom and dressing room. This is about one-third of the metal roof area

(Above): The metal roof as seen from the ground behind the garage. In view id the laundry door (left), then the laundry window and on the right, the bathroom window.

Buildlogue #22 - Up On The Roof

Wednesday 30 July 2014, Construction Day 29. It is a day of wind, high wind, strong wind, gusty wind. Ask any roofer and he’ll tell you: the wind always blows wherever they are fitting a roof. Guaranteed.

Builder John’s guys arrived and started fitting fascias and purlins (the longitudinal planks at right-angles to the roof trusses) on which the roofing sheets must rest. The roofing sheets were delivered as were the large 2.4 by 1.2 fibre-cement boards to be cut into soffit ceilings outside between the wall verticals and the fascia edge. My job will be to apply a first coat sealer-primer to these boards under cover of the roof.

(Above): View of the eastern side from the kitchen, with the fascia board fitted and the second of the purlins fixed in place.

(Above): Quin Roofing Direct (“way to go!”) delivering the roofing sheets and rolls of waterproofing membrane. Quin hails from Levin.

(Above): The waterproofing membrane gets fitted to the flat roof section, and the end folded under the metal flashing situated just below the window in Tyler’s upstairs bedroom. To ensure a proper seal, the roofers have decided that the window must be popped out. The window took less than 15 minutes to remove. Refitting takes quite a bit longer.

(Above): The Quin roofer stands on the flat roof section on top of the waterproofing membrane. To his right below the window one can see the metal profile which will hold the waterproofing down.

(Above): Hard at work applying the membrane to the flat roof.

Potting In The Potting Shed

The jury remains out on whether alcohol is good or bad. Drinking it in excessive quantities, that is.

“In wine there is wisdom, in beer there is Freedom, in water there is bacteria.”  So said Benjamin Franklin.

Viscountess Nancy Astor (non-drinking Winston Churchill colleague)  was a lot more serious, and probably more correct factually, when she said “One reason I don't drink is that I want to know when I am having a good time.”

In recent weeks I have come across a strange phenomenon whilst messing around in the garden, especially while I was tidying the “natural” undergrowth along the boundary fences. On three different occasions, I encountered small glass bottles, what I would describe as “half jacks.”

In South Africa the term “half jack” is used to describe a small flat glass bottle of spirits, usually brandy, vodka, or cane spirits. Its shape is ideal for concealment of the liquor in a jacket pocket. From my discoveries, I arrived at the conclusion that one of the earlier property owners must have been some sort of “secret boozer.” The idea was further cemented when we found yet another bottle of the same brand at the back of the animal fodder shed, a place that no-one really frequents.

(Above): Jim Beam Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey, sour mash. The Beam Formula, a standard since 1795. Non genuine without my signature, signed James B Beam. Distilled and bottled by James B Beam Distilling Co, Beam Clermont, Frankfort, Kentucky USA. 375ml 37.0% Alc/Vol

Others in the family have been pulling my leg about my “secret drinking problem”, and as a tribute to our Mystery Half-jacker, I have decided to display the latest find, which is still in a brand-new condition, as a decoration in the potting shed, which we plan to refurbish and re-construct on the outskirts of the planned veggie garden.

An old Scottish proverb goes: “You speak of my drinking, yet you don't know my thirst”

Buildlogue #21 - It’s A Wrap!

Monday 28 and Tuesday 29 July 2014 representing Construction Days 27 and 28 present us with two days worth of clear weather. Clear but very cold.

Monday consisted of a number of lesser tasks in preparation of the KCDC inspection visit. The inspector was suitably satisfied with our conformity to all the requirements in the building specifications, and gave the green light for continuation.

(Above): Workers start cutting, trimming and stapling Tekton wrap fabric along the outer walls of the extension.

Tuesday has seen the soffits being addressed and the wrapping of the external framework to be completed. Tekton Building Wrap is a synthetic breather-type building wrap for use as a wall wrap and air barrier under fixed wall cladding on timber and steel framed buildings. The product is a coated spun-bonded polypropylene, and is approximately 0.6mm thick. It allows trapped water vapour to escape from the woodwork where required, but prevents rainwater from re-soaking our structure.

(Above): The eastern facade of the building completed, ready for the windows and external timber cladding.

(Above): The western side, with the French Windows to the bedroom in the foreground.

Heave–Ho!

Relocating a timber frame house may not be so unusual in some parts, as long as you use properly qualified people with the correct equipment and appropriate transport on suitable roadways. A slow and sometimes tricky operation, but not all that impossible.

This weekend Clayton moved our greenhouse, using his muscle power, brute strength and ability to dig in hard rocky ground, and putting up with my sarcastic and hopefully sometimes useful opinion as to whether a particular feature appeared level, straight and horizontal-ish or not. Given the AA’s judgement of the quality of my vision, it is remarkable that the greenhouse is actually still standing right way up!

The greenhouse is a simple-frame lightweight structure made of a galvanised tubular metal and covered with a flexible polycarbonate fabric made for this purpose, a thick translucent plastic sheeting, if you will. It is an average size at 4.8 metres long and 2.4 metres wide.  At a rough guess, the structure had been standing just north of the back of the garage for near on 20 years or so. The time had come for it to be moved in preparation of the planned new veggie garden.

With the assistance of, say, four others (preferably weight-lifting enthusiasts), we could have jacked up the house on three long cross-beams and lifted and carried it pall-bearer-style. But there was no such assistance in the offing. Plan “A” was thus a non-starter.

So, we looked towards our ancient Egyptian ancestors who were in the habit of doing pyramid and sphinx-type stuff. If only we had three dozen three-metre broomsticks, we could roll the building to its new location.

We could roll it on firm hard level ground. But the ground is hilly and bumpy, squishy and soft in places, and we only had one regular-length broomstick.

So that put paid to plan “B.”

Then we devised a cunning scheme. To lift-push-pull the house along a rail-road track of timber. Sort of.

And so it came to pass that this cunning scheme evolved into Plan “C”. Regrettably we had no photographers who could bear witness to the sweat and toil, but I have taken a few shots of the aftermath scenes of the battlefield for posterity.

(Above): Ground Zero, the previous site lays fallow after the departure of the greenhouse, opening a sunny space for future generations of yummy organic veggies…

(Above): One of the “railway lines” of Plan “C” along which the house was lifted/dragged/ pushed to its new location nearer the boundary fence. When we were almost done, we discovered by accident that jamming a sliver of polythene on top of the rail under the greenhouse frame dramatically decreased the pulling effort required!

(Above): The greenhouse stands squarely on its new site nearer the boundary fence. Next we need to attend to its renovation and re-cladding, to fit into the planned new garden precinct.