The big dig

For a week, the back yard turned into an episode of “Bob the Builder.”  Or so it seemed, from the ear worm that plagued me throughout.

Earthmoving commences

Boys driving big Tonka toys took over before the hard frost.  First, the house needed drainage.  Second, the geothermal lines needed trenches dug so they could ultimately come into the house and be hooked up.

There was grading and pushing and the general outcome was to turn what was once a back yard into a veritable mud pit.  We know the property won’t be landscaped until spring but what a mess!  Unavoidable, but yucky all the same with the rest of the house beginning to look so tidy.

Providing needed drainage

With the steep roof pitch three stories up, the house sheds a lot of water down a hard slope.  The basement has stayed mostly dry, but the drainage was insufficient given that the window wells that were poured so carefully in 1912 and 13 were connected to terra cotta pipes of the same vintage.  We opted for a system like a french drain, with a field of crushed stone to drive the water away from the house to drainpipes that would carry it around the perimeter and down the natural grade.  Gutters on the back of the house will carry the water underground and away from the structure.

Just deep enough for smaller drywells

That’s where some of our previous “luck” turned on us.  The bedrock that made our geothermal wells so easy to bore proved to make drywells a bit of a nightmare.  They just kept hitting bedrock.  Until, finally, the determination was made that rather than installing one large drywell, they would have to use two smaller ones that would not need to be sunk quite so deep.

Geothermal trenching

Fortunately, the trenching for the geothermal lines proved far less eventful, though it appeared dramatic enough, cutting a path that snaked up the other side of what may someday resemble a lawn again.

It was all necessary work and I know it will all disappear with grading and landscaping next year.  I also know the property will remain a mud pit for the foreseeable future.  Unavoidable, but something that makes me sigh as I learn to keep barn boots in my car from now on.  But to have a basement that is always dry? Worth it ten times over.

Returned

The days are swirling past like the dried leaves in the early winter wind.  So much to report, so little time, with my hours divided by meetings with the crew, vendors, subs, teachers, clients and more.  A backhanded apology for my absence as I will try to bring you up to speed in the near future.

The third-floor run

A mere two weeks after the main staircases went away, replaced by seemingly rickety construction stairs, the new constructs came to their resting place at Owl Manor.  They are as solid as New England granite.  You can wiggle and bounce on them to your heart’s delight with nary a shake or squeak.  They are tight.

The risers and treads are white oak, and unlike what you are used to seeing, the risers will NOT be painted white.  I’ve spent a dozen years cleaning white risers on stairs and I am done.

Begging to be touched

However, the trim board you see along the side with the bright grain popping is, indeed poplar.  That part can and will be painted.

Things about their craftsmanship make me want to touch them.  I can’t walk past the master bedroom door without feeling one of these little curved stair edges.  They just cry out to be touched and each of them says, “I was handmade!”

While the third-floor string went up in a day, the main staircase took a tad more time.  The installation progressed piece

Field assembly

by piece ~ stringers, risers, treads.  Everything carefully marked out with precision.

What’s most noticeable is what I cannot see:  there’s not a single nail visible.

For now, everything is covered in RAM board to protect the wood from being knocked up too much.

I also chose new balusters that are being prepared off-site.  Those, and the

Old on the left, new on the right

New baluster at exact scale

handrails I care about will be kept away until the end.  While I appreciated all of the detail in the original “spindles” on the left, which were alternately squared and turned and full of complex figures, the fact is, I could not afford to restore them.  Underneath all those coats of paint there was surely lead, and the 189 pieces all needed some repair.  In addition, they were not tall enough to meet today’s safety code.  Given the expense of restoration AND raising them, it was an easy choice to go with something new; something simple yet classical that will be beautiful in its repetition.  And yes, I did count every single one of them.

It is very hard to let go of the few original things in the house, but when their replacements are of this quality and craftsmanship, it makes it so much easier.

Thank you, Northeast Stairs, for helping restore what was lost.

Rooms

And then one day, there were walls.

Real walls and ceiling

Actual, real, solid walls separating rooms from each other.

A newly created room – or rather, closet

Consider that for more than two years, I’ve been looking through framing or in some places, imagining framing.  And now I can’t see through those planes anymore.

A reconfigured room with a pretty little tub

Suddenly Owl Manor turned into a house again.

Fresh and new

Some spaces only existed in my mind’s eye ~ until now.

New twist on old space

Others are on their way to restoration.

Part-way there

Light beckons.

Removal

Every time I think we’ve reached a point where there’s nothing left to remove from Owl Manor, it’s time to take something else away.

Foyer staircase from above

The grand staircase leading from the foyer up to the second floor is one of the most important features of the house.  Its orientation is a hallmark of its architect and the sweep of the mahogany volute handrail can be found in other surviving homes from that firm and its contemporaries.

No matter how well-constructed, standing in the open exposed to sun, wind and

As you’ve never seen before …

acid rain doesn’t help any piece of wood, much less anything already a century old.  Sadly, that was exactly what happened when our first contractor removed the roof and entire third floor of the house while we were traveling out of state last year, resulting in his removal from our employ.  His termination did nothing to help the state of the woodwork.

Marking and measuring

Even after the house was enclosed, it took us many months to find the right company to rebuild and restore the staircases.  Unlike new construction, the new assembly has to fit precisely where the old ones were.  Every stringer, riser and tread has to be replicated just so.  There was clearly one company ready for the job: Bill Drzyzga and Northeast Stair Company of Tolland.

Demolition … again

After measuring, measuring again, photographing more exhaustively than I do, and measuring some more, his crew painstakingly cut the third-floor staircase from its anchors to be recreated.

They were so very careful and deliberate, I had no choice but to be impressed by every bit of their demeanor.  This was anything but the sheer-brute sledgehammer-heaving demolition I had already been through and still carry scars from, lest I forget.

That said, you will forgive me for

So very wrong, but so necessary

making sure I was not on the premises to see the grand staircase disassembled and replaced by construction stairs.  As dispassionate as I have become, I knew better than to put myself there.

I remind myself that this is another necessary step taking us closer to an end of this long journey.

 

 

Stuffing

During the school year, I tend to be at Owl Manor every morning, giving the various members of our crew the opportunity to run questions by me and discuss anything that came up during the previous day’s work.  However, part of the recent “news blackout” here was the result of my temporary banishment from the site for two weeks of interior insulation.

Suiting up for insulation

In addition to the exterior SIP panels that enclose the envelope of the house, the (giant) wall cavities and ceilings needed to be filled ~ not only by choice, but also by decree of building code.  If you can think of a material used in modern-day insulation work, chances are, it’s been used somewhere inside Owl Manor.  Remember, the house was originally insulated with shredded paper ~ believed to be useful in 1914, but a century later, good only for feeding fire. (Shudder.)

Speaking of fire, working with closed-cell foam insulation requires major

Layers of closed-cell spray foam

attention to safety.  The co-mingling of two chemicals is what makes the foam expand ~ think about how that hair mousse grows when you shoot it into your palm.  The byproduct of this particular chemical reaction is heat.  Because the bays in our walls are so deep, for safety reasons, they would have to be filled in layers or at risk of

Sprayed attic ready for trimming

combustion.  Thus, the two-week project to insulate.

By now, the sight of an attic like this filled with what looks like oozing goo is not so unusual in the home-building world.  I remain fascinated by what it looks like after it is all trimmed up.  It looks like the giant cake-froster has come through and smoothed it all.

Foam is only one material you will find here.  Look to the ceiling in the master bedroom and you will also see batting for soundproofing of the playroom above, (which could someday become

Each color a different type of insulation in the master

the Darling Girl’s bedroom when she wants to move farther from her parents and her parents eschew whatever music she decides to blare) as well as mineral wool around the chimney for its fire-retardant qualities.

The newly insulated interior walls are giving definition to rooms that

Framing morphs into walls

have seemed rather borderless throughout these long months.  Certainly the whole house is quieter now, as sounds that used to travel from one end of the building to the other are muffled by these soft dividers.

Next up, another inspection and then we come to a rather major milestone:

All “frosted” with “buttercream”

drywall.  That’s when Owl Manor will really take shape again as a series of rooms, doorways and halls.   I am told we will be moving into fast-forward mode as soon as that happens.  I’m not certain what that will feel like after all this time.  But whatever new challenges that brings ~ I am sure the devil will be in the details and this space is rife with details ~ I am ready!

 

Drilling

Pardon the brief interruption while a bit of travel transpired.  Always good to see another part of the country and get fresh eyes.

Meanwhile, back at Owl Manor, they were drilling.  And we were very, very

Drilling for bedrock

lucky.  No black gold, just bedrock, which is exactly what we wanted.  They hit it only 14 feet below the surface, which is about as good as it gets when one is drilling wells for geothermal heat systems.  It took the crew just two days to complete the three wells they needed, leaving behind these funny-looking tubes sprouting from the

Wells sprouting

back yard.  Eventually, they will be hooked up to the system in the house, and the closed system of liquid inside will be what regulates the temperature indoors.

Inside, they’ve also placed the three air handlers that will comprise the heating and cooling zones for the house.  Because of the extensive insulation we’re doing, in spite of its size, the house will use just a 3-ton air conditioning system.

Unfortunately, even today geothermal requires a substantial upfront investment from the homeowner.  But when all was said and done, after computing the

One of three air handlers

substantial tax credits, for us, the price difference between a new gas-powered furnace and A/C system and the geothermal system was about $10,000.  That’s nothing to sneeze at.  We also know the previous owner was spending $800 or more per month to cool the house in the summer, albeit through an inefficient patchwork retrofit of ductwork.

We can already tell that the house holds a pretty standard temperature inside, even without any climate-control system running (or even some of the openings actually sealed up).  If we have done this right, we ought to be able to pretty much heat it with a candelabra and cool it with a few bowls of ice, which will bring our cost of living lower than the far smaller house we occupy today.

Decked

When last we visited the balcony, our crew had installed new columns strong enough for elephants to use as scratching posts.

Fastening flooring

In the ensuing weeks, while plumbers, electricians and HVAC experts have been busy inside, our carpenters were enjoying the fresh air.  Here, you see them installing our choice for flooring: Astronium spp., also known as Tiger wood, or Zebrawood.  This is a South American hardwood with a Janka rating of 2,160 pounds.

Tiger wood is knows for prominent grain, hardness and rot resistance

The Janka rating basically measures the hardness of wood ~ its resistance to dents and damage among other things.  By comparison, walnut has a rating of 1,010; the prized Brazilian walnut known as ipe measures 3,680 pounds, but is known to splinter. Both Tiger wood and ipe are also known to wear out saw blades and other motorized tools because the wood is so very hard.  Rather than messing with sinking screws and filling holes, this material came with a special fastening system.  Look: no nails to pop.

The Tiger Deck we chose is forested sustainably and is one of the most rot-resistant wood species.  It also is stays cooler than other man-made materials

The last delivery

that are in vogue today (for the same price).  Why put something on the floor that puts splinters in your toes or gets too hot to walk on?  Yes, there was plenty carbon expended getting it here.  But in the grand scheme, by the time it has lived through its lifecycle in this protected area, it can also go right back to the earth.  I can live with that.

Workmanship: Lovely picture-frame corners

A pretty view in its own right

Because all roads lead back to knitting ~ eventually ~ I have to point out that our guys did a brilliant job feathering in the highly variegated boards with the less grained ones.  Just as any good knitter will blend skeins of hand-dyed yarn to prevent pools or striping, I asked them to pay special attention to keeping the wood from doing the same: no dark patches for this decking, please.

We are delighted with the finished product.  We are porch people and we intend to spend a lot of time out here where there is always a breeze.  We are waiting for the ceiling material for the balcony and the veranda below … and many

Grab a seat and stay

finishing details to come.  I continue to hope that the “terrarium” ~ what I called the glassed-in section at the far end off the master bedroom ~ is able to be reconstructed. Budget and time will tell.   That’s something I can just sit on a doorstep up here and daydream about, looking into all of those woodgrain whorls.

Roughing

While the outside of Owl Manor gets covered one cedar shake at a time, multiple trades are busy on the inside.  We are in the period known as “roughing in.”  I surmise the vernacular is chosen because one has a rough guess of where things belong when one starts.  Or so it seems for me.

Ductwork ready for installation

One new electrical panel, ready to go

Bear in mind, the house was devoid of wires, pipes and ductwork when we completed demolition.  Some was lost to fire damage, some to age.  And with as much as we were replacing, it didn’t make sense to leave behind hundred-year-old cast-iron pipes, not to mention a terra cotta waste pipe that could fail any time a tree root decided to poke through.

There is much to be said for starting fresh.  The house had been a mishmash of heating and cooling, not to mention electrical.  We know what’s inside the walls will be safe and up to code with brand spankin’ new electrical panels.

But, oh, the level of detail makes me shudder.  I know more about this house than anyone.  I thought I’d done a pretty good job of thinking things through.  My first walk-through with our wonderful

One switch, two switches, three switches …

(and patient) electrician lasted six hours ~ and we barely got through two floors!  That was six hours of “Where do you want this light to turn off? Do you need it to also switch off somewhere else? Do you want …?”  With my blood sugar somewhere around my ankles, my brain fried.  I had enough for one day.

And I thought I knew my house and exactly what I wanted.  What is this like with a less decisive homeowner?

On the plumbing front, things were far more straightforward.  Having every wall, floor and ceiling opened up did afford us a couple of opportunities to change

Guest bath taking shape

things I had not considered within the realm of possibility.  By the same token, sometimes people get used to placing fixtures in exactly the same order and spacing and need to be reminded to stop and think about the surroundings a little more.  Fortunately, unnecessary design awkwardness was spared before it became permanent. (More on that another day.)  Here you see the main guest bath starting to take shape within its expanded footprint, acquiring a shower it never had before.

Mommy’s helper: central vac

Speaking of new things … these outlets are in place throughout the house.  They were a little challenging to site in a few areas, owing to built-ins, room openings and sight lines, but a central vacuum system had been on my wish list from Day One.  No lugging that monster ElectroLux up three flights of stairs for me.

Yep, things are starting to shape up.  Everyone is scurrying to get ready for insulation.  After insulation ~ drywall.  As I write on Bastille Day, I know our goal out there, just beyond the horizon.  Maybe I’ll be able to see it sometime soon.

 

Protection

There was one element of rebuilding Owl Manor that was a non-negotiable absolute in my book: lightning protection.

We will never know what it was about that day or that storm nearly two years ago that caused The Bolt to hit Owl Manor after 98 years … but the probability of a person in my state being struck by lightning is about 1 in 3.5 million.  Really.  That’s a person, not a structure, but still.  Other sources say the probability of a structure being hit is about 1 in 200, depending on geographic location.

Additions to the ridges

Pick any number you want.  What I do know is that I will do what is reasonable to ensure it does not happen again.  I mean, the house didn’t get any shorter.  And I understand that you can’t just control lightning.  It is a natural force.

But to the extent it can be diverted or channeled, Owl

On the nice new north chimney

Manor now sports a series of air terminals, a.k.a. lightning rods, tied to a grounding system.

Frankly, I can’t say I really cared if they were fuchsia (and if you know me, you know the degree to which I despise the color pink), if they would help protect this investment of mine, they were going up.  Period.

South chimney – check!

In time, I’m sure I will stop noticing that they are there.

In the meantime, I think the ones on the south chimney – the stack the lightning blew off the house – look particularly sporty.

Learning curve

After finally getting the ox-eye window straight and true in the front gable, we definitely had some important lessons under our collective belt to bring around to the back of Owl Manor.

It was particularly important this time because there were some potential pitfalls looming.

Rear elevation

First, the whole roofline here is a new design.  When we purchased Owl Manor, the rear featured a doghouse dormer at each end, and a squat shed dormer across the two center windows.  It was clear that this was not original, but the shed dormer had been executed a very long time ago.  In any case, it was, at best, inelegant.  In addition, there was no element of the house’s design that linked the front and the back ~ they could have been different houses.  Applying a center gable with an ox-eye that mirrored the front brings important unity to the structure.

But back to pitfalls … with the house wrapped in Tyvek, we were working in “reverse” color, and needed to see things in the opposite of the colors they would be on the finished structure.  Wrap your head around that for a minute.

Mocked up trim AND window

Given the challenges of siting the front ox-eye, this time, we mocked up trim and placed that, too.  As you can see, it gave us an important visual frame of reference to work with.  This was especially important because the space in question was more than three stories high, and only visible from the farthest reaches of the property.

New ox-eye installed

It made the job exponentially easier than the work on the front.  Or maybe it just seemed that way.  Inside, the new ox-eye spilled new natural light throughout the space.  I daresay the cathedral ceiling looks a little church-like here … but what a change from the house I bought.

A space of its own design

Originally, the ceiling in this space appeared to “sit” on the window casing at barely eight feet high.  I never imagined that the third floor would now feature soaring ceilings and angles as it does.

This space is the omelette served with cold lemonade that I knew must eventually result after some of the bad cards we were dealt.  In many respects, it designed itself.  Or rather, it suggested its design organically as it rose.  I know I will be spending a good deal of time up here after one last round window is hung ~ in a place of honor.