More of Fencing: Season Two

I took advantage of the nice weather and long weekend to finish the section of fence from the house to the garage. Prior to this weekend I had gotten the posts set into place, so now all that was left was to put the wood in place. I say that as though it was just a trifle of work. After all, the panels and the gate were already assembled and cut to length - how much more work could it be? A surprisingly large amount, as I discovered last year. I estimate I spent about 5 hours each on Sunday and Monday. The results are nice, but to do it properly is painstaking work - a task somewhere between rough framing and finish carpentry.

I mentioned that I had the panels made by a local company. However, unlike last year, they used the semi-decorative rails that aren't strictly rectangular in cross section, but rather have one convex face. They still attached to the metal posts alright, and would eventually be covered with facia boards. Still, it was, like the 7' posts that were actually 8', a vexing detail.

Another vexing detail: like I discovered with last year's fence, the large granite blocks that make up the foundation below grade step outward from the house the further down you go. So, instead of having this terminal post close up against the side of the house, it was a foot away. I would need to take this panel and split off a bit to mount on the other side, to close off the gap to the house.

One nice thing about white cedar: it is fantastically easy to make a quick, clean cut with hand tools.

I pulled the 4"-wide picket off the rails and replaced it with a 6" to close the gap to the house

That's starting to look like a fence. Except for that big hole in the middle. That's for the gate.

You can see here the gate installation in-progress. The gate post on the right, which is two of the metal posts back-to-back, has been fleshed out a bit more with 2"x2" segments, capped with 1"x5" boards and a whole bunch of screws holding the pieces tight to one another. This gives the post a bit more meat for attaching the gate hinge, and makes it look a lot more attractive than the bare metal.

Single-handedly getting the 40-lb gate up to just the right height, and level, and holding it in place while I attach the hinges to it and the gate post is no small feat. I managed it though, and it swings as smooth and easily as one could hope for. Unlike its predecessor, which dragged its way inwards across the grass, this one is set to swing outwards, and has a few inches of clearance above the pavement below. It won't do anything to stop cats from coming and going, but should be plenty against a wily, fuzzy black dog.

The facia wood for post opposite the gate came next, along with the gate latch. Some more cutting and screwing of facia boards, and I was ready to declare it done.

Looks pretty good from the outside, too.

So that's two of four fence sections in the back yard taken care of. The other two, which go along the property line, will be larger endeavors. For one, there's just a lot more footage to deal with. For another, it'll be 6' privacy fencing, which means taller posts (probably not set deeper, though) and much heavier panels - probably a two-person job. On the other hand, there won't be any gates to worry about, so locating the posts can be a bit more relaxed. Let's hope I can work up the courage to take it on soon.

Fencing: season two

Fencing: season two is not the latest hit TV program. And despite its physical toll, it is not the latest fitness craze. Nope, it's just me, my post hole digger, and another section of the backyard fence that needs replacing. In truth, it all needs replacing, except the part that I replaced last summer, but I can only do so much at once.

This new section is a project about the same size and difficulty as last year's. It runs from the house to the garage, about 20' long, with a gate in the middle. Break out the post hole digger!





Like I said about the fencing I replaced last year: it might have looked good for the first few days after it was installed ~10 years ago. But it was cheap crap then, and it sure didn't last. Looks like the posts were only sunk about two feet into the ground. These had rotted all away; I pulled them easily with my own two hands. The pickets themselves were in close contact to the ground and had likewise rotted away. The gate could not be opened more than halfway, and then only by lifting and dragging it.



I am replacing them with steel posts, partially set in concrete, that are rated for 20 years. The wood that's attached to them may not last that long, but will be trivial to replace. For this 4' fence, only about 3-1/2' of post needs to be above grade. Last year I had used 7' steel posts and sunk about half into the ground. I ordered 7' posts again this year. My distributor ordered 7' posts. Master Halco sent 8' posts. Above, you can see one leftover post from last year's project set atop one from the order I received.

A part of me wouldn't mind so much: I got more product for the same cost. But sinking nearly 5' of steel into the ground for a light perimeter seems downright silly. What is more, I simply can't dig a hole that deep with my post hole diggers, nor would I want to even if I could.



Solution? Hack away. With the combination of dremel and hacksaw (which is missing about 1/3 of its teeth now), it's only a 5-10 minute job per post. A part of me was tempted to take them into work: the stockroom for our machine shop has a mighty nice metal cutting band saw that would have made quick work of these.

LED lighting and microeconomics

If you believe Michelle Bachmann, the legislated phase-out of the incandescent lightbulb is a facet of an insidious plot to destroy freedom [1] [2] [3]. We reserve the right to be as idiotically wasteful as we please!

You can guess from my sarcasm that I don't give that much creedence. But sticking to the incandescent is, with all apologies and respect to Thomas Edison, a downright stupid thing to do. Why? It's more expensive. Reserving your right to be as idiotically wasteful as you please is also reserving your right to throw away money and needlessly contribute to the ruination of our one and only home. Hoarding 100-watt bulbs in your basement? Congratulations: you have just tied yourself to a decade of spending much more than necessary to light your home. You are doing no one, particularly our nation, our freedom, and our planet, any favors. I'll get to the numbers in a minute.

I can understand the reticence. Look at a typical 60-watt incadescent - it costs less than a dollar. Burns out: swap it and go on with your life. Now compare to what had, until recently, been the primary alternative - the compact fluorescent. I have paid to replace incandescents with CFLs in three residences over the last decade - a few dozen bulbs from different manufacturers at varying price points. The energy savings are undeniable. The steady-state color is pleasant from most bulbs. The mercury content didn't bother me much; it was a manageable inconvenience. I've never had much use for dimmer switches.

But, despite my environmental leanings, I had my gripes with the CFL. The turn-on time was the biggie for me. Some of my bulbs came on to full brightness immediately. But many, and unfortunately some I used most often, would be sluggish. Coming down to the kitchen in the pitch black of a January morning, with the thermostat showing 55F, flicking the switch would spark a weak, sickly pale, purplish green glow, which would take a minute or more to demonstrate itself worthy of being called light. There were probably better bulbs out there, but at $5/ea, it's not something I could change out casually. Besides: what to do with the old bulbs? yes, I could recycle them, but they are still perfectly serviceable and represent a significant "sunk energy" cost in their manufacture.

But I am very optimistic about the future of lighting: LEDs. I've tinkered with LEDs in one form or another since college. I've even incorporated them into Brynna's nightlight. I've followed the development of the LED lighting industry from niche to mainstream. I would say that the products available now, from reputable vendors, are ready for widespread adoption for the uncompromising masses. A decade from now, I'm willing to assert, in my capacity as an engineer, that there will be little justification for buying another incandescent.

And I'm willing to put my money where my mouth is.

I will be the first to admit that digital photography is a difficult way to judge lighting. My own equipment is not exactly stellar for this task either. The camera is not an eye. Still, bear with me.

Which are incandescent? Which are CFL? Which are LED?

The answer is that there are no incandescents. The two bulbs in the hanging fixture are CFLs. The recessed lights (seven in the kitchen and pantry) are LEDs. You are seeing them here at full brightness. Were I to turn them off, let them cool for a few hours, then return and flick the switch, the recessed lights would be back at that full brightness in the blink of an eye. That's the big sell for me: the instant-on. The fact that they do not contain mercury, are less energy intensive to produce than CFLs, last longer, use less power for equal or better light, and are entirely compatible with dimmer switches are nice bonuses. And this technology will only get better and cheaper.

The recessed lights you see here are sold under the EcoSmart brand at Home Depot and retailed for $35 apiece. I also managed to score a $10/ea rebate from the local utility (take that, RGGI haters). They replace the entire recessed can, but screw into the standard socket at the back. Installation took all of three minutes apiece.

Now for some numbers. These bulbs are rated for 30,000 hrs lifetime. Given how they are used in our home, that works out to a decade or two. The rebate I got is not universally available, but you can probably find something in your area. Let's call the cost $30 apiece. That works out to an amortized cost of $0.001/hr. To produce the equivalent light of a 65-W incandescent, these pull about 10 W. If you take my monthly electric bill and divide by the energy used, it runs about $0.18/kWh. All told, the operating cost per bulb works out to about 1/3-cent per hour.

Compare to an incandescent. A little searching will find a 65-W PAR 30 bulb retailing for about $2. It will last upwards of 2000 hours. This yields an amortized capital cost of, TADA!, $0.001/hr. In other words, hour for hour, the new LED fixture costs the same to purchase as the conventional incandescent. The LED bulb uses 1/6th the power to produce the same light, and so it costs 1/6th as much to operate.

This is a clear win. Over their lifetime, I estimate each LED fixture will save me $100-$200; about $1000 just for this one room.

The comparison to a CFL is a bit tricker and less clear cut. A CFL bulb will run perhaps $10-15 (depending on quality), last about 1/2 as long, and use a touch more power than an LED. Depending on how you work these estimates, the CFL can be the cheaper option in terms of Total Cost of Ownership. However, as I mentioned above, I have grown dissatisfied with CFLs. CFLs may be great in most respects compared to incandescents, but they now seem like a poor compromise compared to what's available now in LEDs. So why aren't we all running out to the local big box store for a mass conversion? There are plenty of reasons. Consumer inertia is one reason. By that I mean that consumer behavior is difficult to change. Plenty of people (my electrician included) stick with incandescents as the default choice because of their consistency, long standing existence, and low upfront cost. Those who were inclined towards CFLs on their merits have largely already converted, and aren't too anxious to junk that investment. Other consumers have been burned (figuratively) by CFLs for a variety of reasons; deserved and otherwise. Lots of people rent, and why make capital improvements in a place you don't even own? I also admit that, as an engineer, these kinds of calculations and considerations are second nature to me; most people simply cannot be bothered. That's OK to an extent: there are plenty of matters that, being outside my area of expertise and experience, I simply cannot be bothered with. Cost is probably the biggest hurdle. I've converted the kitchen because it is the lighting we use most frequently. It's the place with the greatest room for improvement over CFLs. The PAR30 form factor (i.e., recessed can) provides a more favorable economic and aesthetic case compared to the usual bulb. Even so: I dropped a few hundred dollars for this one room. Sure, they'll save lots of money over their lifetime, several times what I've put in, but it's still a lot of money. There's a decent chance, too, that we won't even live in this house long enough to recoup the investment.

The way that I look at it is the way that I think many people will eventually come to look at it - as a capital investment. Think of all the important components in your home: the heating and cooling equipment, the toilet, the refrigerator, the stove. Why shouldn't we start to view lighting as another big ticket item along these lines? When a lightbulb's lifetime can be measured in decades, it has moved out of the category of consumable items like toilet paper, razor blades, dish detergent, automotive oil. Instead, it has become a piece of equipment: something that is installed in the home; a fixture.

Welcome Mat

For anyone who has ever visited our house, your arrival has probably been announced by our burglar alarm, which happens to have four legs, a waggly tail, black fuzz, and answers (sometimes) to the name of 'Jasper'. My aunt, bless her, has seen fit to recognize Jasper's tireless devotion to our security with this new welcome mat, which will have a place of honor in our entryway:
 

Fencing

No, not that antiquated and stylized athletic event that most people ignore except every four years. Fencing as in that vertical dividing barrier between two places. That things that separates the inside from the outside. Robert Frost.

This spring, a section of our fence fell over. Not surprising when you look at the state of the posts:

I don't know what vintage the fencing of our house is, but I suspect that, if it is a decade old, it can't be much more than that. The whole perimeter of our back yard fence is gradually falling away; a good push would knock over a section. It all needs to be replaced eventually. The section that fell over is the most acute, however, because without it Jasper is able to wander off and roam the neighborhood, something that he is getting quite bold about. After dallying for a few months, I decided I really needed to get to it.

However, I didn't want to just to driving down to Home Depot and start piling 5" round posts into the car. For one, I don't actually like the look of such fencing. For another, the materials are cheap - I would be surprised if they would last ten years stuck into the ground. Instead, I resolved to figure out another system that would have some more longevity. I like the notion of metal posts with wood attached to it. Most such systems use the round metal posts from chain link fencing and some brackets. Effective, yes, but not particularly attractive from the inside of the fence.

I eventually discovered this product from Master Halco. The PostMaster system uses a top-hat shaped extrusion of galvanized steel. The flanges of the section have holes on 1" center, which makes hanging the wooden fence sections fairly easy. Because the posts are rectilinear, cladding them in wood is pretty easy. They claim that the metal posts are stiffer than wood and hold up better in wind. The posts should last upwards of twenty years in the ground - long enough that the wooden fence sections may get replaced once or twice in that time.

There is a bit of a price premium going this route compared to a conventional wooden post: about 10-20%. I figure it is worth it for the longevity. This does, however, raise an important point: fencing is expensive, no matter which way one goes. Twenty dollars per foot, uninstalled, seems to be the going rate. It makes me look with some dread at the long perimeter of our back yard.

Still, summer was wearing on and Jasper was getting increasingly rambunctious, so I bit the bullet and set out to use the PostMaster product to at least replace the front fence. The only problem was that this is not a retail product: the only way to get it is through a fencing contractor/distributor. I gather that this is not regarded as a typical DIY, weekend handyman product. It took some time to get it lined up, and two weeks for the distributor to receive it from Master Halco. The local fencing distributor/contractor had himself never used it. About two weeks ago I received the materials: metal posts, pre-cut fencing sections, and other accessories for putting it all together.

The fence sections I set aside: those won't go in until the very end. The first real order of business is to set the metal posts. After laying it out with surveyor's string and stakes, I broke out the post hole diggers and started going down. The metal posts are seven feet long - more than half of which going into the ground.

The first post I did is actually in the middle of the front fenceline - the one that the gate will hang from. This actually receives a double-post because of the cantilevered load. After digging down I packed in a few inches of gravel, then located and plumbed the post. Some stakes and guy wires keep it in place.

Next came some concrete. I went back and forth about whether to use concrete or not. Using it definitely yields the best and most lasting results. It is also more or less permanent. Skipping it reduces the overall cost, relieves some headaches during the installation, and allows for revision down the road. But I worried that the posts could work themselves loose in just packed earth, so each is receiving 2-3 feet of concrete.

The process of familiarizing myself with the layout, digging the first hole, and setting this first post took about four hours. I also encountered a torrential downpour while filling in the concrete. The subsequent posts have taken 1-2 hours apiece. Compared to the first post, these other posts have the added complication of needing to be in a straight line with respect to the gate post, at the same level, and placed just the right distance away. I have managed, but it takes time.

Combined with a hectic schedule (moreso this week, as Hilary is out of town) it is no wonder that, a week into the installation (months into the actual project), I have only set four of five posts, and installed none of the actual fencing. I'm getting closer, though, and will post pictures of the finish. So far, I'm pleased with how it's going. This may end up being the solution for replacing the rest of the fence, though I wouldn't hazard what the timeline for that job might be.

Attic Renovations

In a prior post I alluded to the fact that our attic is undergoing major renovations. The attic was already finished space when we bought the house: it was divided into two bedrooms, in which were two (three?) of the five children. It was sparsely insulated and not particularly nice. There is also a chimney in the exact middle. This chimney goes no higher than the third attic ceiling, and no lower than the 2nd floor. Once upon a time it went from basement through the roof, and was the means by which the house was heated. For a good long while it's been used as an electrical chase, in blatant violation of fire codes.

We used the attic as storage space. More correctly, we used it as a dumping ground for all the stuff we couldn't get around to properly unpacking when we moved in...two years ago. It aspired to so much more. It will become something more along the lines of master suite, with a full bath and kitchenette. Get your sledgehammers ready!

Of course, that was decided well over a year ago. In the meantime, there was the laborious process of completely emptying the attic. This was mostly accomplished by hauling boxes down three flights of stairs and stacking them in the basement. There was also the process of coming up with a new floorplan. Due to quirks of how the home is sited, where the windows and stairs are, and other details, it actually proved rather difficult to figure out where to put things. Hours were spent, pencil and ruler in hand, hunched over pages seeking a solution. A few months ago, we thought we had a solution that would make floor-planning much easier and provide ample lighting: blow out the west-side gable and turn it into a full-width dormer. More hours were spent facing down the tyranny of the resulting blank page of newfound space and freedom. We got a plan we could be happy with. More than happy: it was going to be outstanding. Then we learned that changing the roofline would, all by itself, cost $17,000. More hours were spent over paper with pencil and ruler and much erasing. We detailed a floorplan within the confines of the existing envelope. Through out contractor, demolition got started a little while back. Some of it actually took place while we were in St John. When we returned, we found the remains of the interior walls and carpeting piled in the center of the floor. A week later I gave up my driveway for a 20 cu-yd dumpster it all got tossed into. (The remains of the collapsed fence found there way into the dumpster, too). An insulation guy came and sucked out the 18-month old cellulose and reinjected it into the (thoroughly non-insulated) second floor walls.

So now our attic is stripped down to bare wood.

As it turns out, in addition to the real vent stack, there was this oddball hidden behind the kneewall.

You can see where the chimney used to be.

Another nifty discovery: our house once had a serious fire. Instead of the simple gable it has now, it once had a hipped roof (sloped on all four sides, coming to a peak). Up in smoke, then rebuilt, at some unknown point in the past. Here you can see where the old charred rafters leading out to one corner have been sistered to new wood.

And down she comes...

Today was the day we took down the big tree. A sad occasion. I say "we" but actually it was an arborist, in his 45' bucket truck, with a 60' boom crane, and one or two other folks besides. They made quick work of it: from arrival on site to cleaning up in just about four hours. I figured I might have had some time, if I ducked out of work early, to get some pictures of them in action. Alas, no. If I've had some more forethought, I'd have set up my phone to do a time-lapse video capture from a window.

As it turns out, it is pretty difficult to get someone to take a tree out in a hurry. This became an acute situation over ten days ago, a Friday. In the following few days I called seven local companies, had it seen by five, and had three express a serious interest in the job. That was the state of things Monday afternoon. I didn't hear anything from anybody for nearly three more days: a combination of sickness and death kept people from returning my calls. In the end, I only ever got one proposal in my hands that I could seriously consider. One other gave me a quote over the phone, promising a follow-up email with insurance info, which I am still waiting for. The third said he could maybe get around to it in 2-3 weeks. Overall I'm satisfied with the work, but at $2500, it was not cheap.

Yup, it was a big tree.

Click to embiggen. Don't try to count rings in the picture; it's not really possible with the chainsaw marks. As this and the next image show, the tree's time had most definitely come. All the dark area in this image is wet and rotten wood. There are a couple of obvious cracks, and radiating out at 3 o'clock are pencil-sized bore holes from goodness knows what. Are those roots coming up through the middle?

What you see here is what remains of the main trunk. The picture shows the bottom end. See how it's in two pieces? Yup, that's because it split on its own when they set it down with the crane. There was essentially nothing holding the two halves together save for a network of roots that sprouted deep within the split and cascaded downward. The split clearly got started ages ago, and the tree's been trying to back-fill ever since. My arborist informed me that the tree probably shouldn't have been able to stay up as long as it did.

Another view across the main trunk. More rooty goodness. With everything sprouting out the middle there, it is interesting to consider what it would look like if you took these trunks to a sawmill and made heavy planks of them.

As it turns out, some neighbors were happy to take the wood off my hands. Lacking experience in these matters, I would estimate it would make two face cord, once it's sawn and stacked.

Now gazing across the back yard all you see if a lot of open sky. It just doesn't seem right. But to fill in that horizon will be a decadal task. For now, the only certain thing is that our lawn will get thoroughly baked this summer!

Things Fall Apart

Apologies to Chinua Achebe who, when he was talking about Things Fall Apart, was discussing problems of a much deeper and existential nature than my own petty bumps in the road.

Nevertheless, I have been confronted in recent weeks with plenty of examples of things falling apart.

Exhibit A: the enormous and beautiful silver maple in our back yard:


For all I know, this tree has stood watch over this house for most of the last century. Alas, its days are numbered. Ever since the freak snowstorm last October, when the tree lost a few moderately sized limbs, I have had a wary eye on the main trunk, just below the fork. I have known for at least a year that it has a sizable split in it. I thought it mostly superficial, but it is visible on both sides of the trunk. I'd been meaning for a few months now to bring in an arborist to have a look at it, and see if it might be possible to reinforce the tree with some cables joining the two trunks together. This past Friday, while out walking his dog, our neighbor heard a distinctive pop coming from back there. The crack hasn't gotten a whole lot larger, but it seems a lot more threatening now. Using you hand to span the gap, you can feel the two halves moving separately when the wind blows.


I spent a decent amount of time on Friday calling local tree services. I've now had five come out to look at it, and all have concluded that it cannot be saved; it must be taken down. Two of them, after giving me this judgment, subsequently bowed out; too big and complicated a job without a good crew and a crane. The other three I am awaiting written proposals from. One says he can do it in two weeks, the others will shuffle things to get to it in the next 2-3 days. All have ballparked it at somewhere between $2000 and $3000.

It is a sad thing: the death of a mighty old tree. Its shade and presence will be sorely missed. Although we'll plant anew, a tree of that stature won't grace this house for decades. But it cannot be meaningfully saved, and I do not love it enough to risk having it crush my garage, my neighbor's, the back fence, or the cars in the parking lot on the other side. I'd be happier if we had a fireplace, and could at least turn it into firewood. I've considered having the larger sections sawn into planks for subsequent woodworking. But, considering I've got about 50 board-feet of rough-sawn lumber in the garage already, with little prospect of using it anytime soon, adding to the collection a stack of green boards probably isn't worthwhile.

Next exhibit: the backyard fence. I haven't ever liked it. There is something to be said for the lichen-covered, greying look of weathered wood. But when it is combined with rotting posts and gates than can only be opened by lifting and setting aside, charm counts for very little. Let us be honest: it was cheaply constructed years ago and poorly maintained ever since. It spent the winter reinforced with stakes and ropes, awaiting the inevitable...


This section flopped unceremoniously to the ground the other day.


Not too surprising: the posts had rotted clean through at ground level. And not those two: all of the posts of the fence are exhibiting a lot of wobble. It does not inspire confidence.


The gate section is missing two pickets and one hinge. In the time we've owned this house, it has never swung freely or latched. The rest would fall over with one solid kick. So, off to the dumpster with it. I'll put in some sweat equity on a replacement in the coming weeks. In the meantime, Jasper has an unimpeded escape route from the back yard. But no worries, he only escapes to go run up and wait on the front porch. At least that is in good repair.

Next: our attic renovations. This hasn't shown up on the blog yet, but it will: we are gutting the attic to the studs and renovating it to be a master suite. Well, it would be a master suite for any other home owner; for us it will be an elaborate guest room. More on that later. In the meantime, this is what it looks like:


In the past few days the big pile of debris piled into the middle has been tossed out the window, gradually filling a 20-cu.yd dumpster. Just today we had a guy come in to suck out the 2-year old blown cellulose from the pitch and the ceiling, and inject it down through the balloon-constructed exterior walls to the second floor. It's a haphazard job, but salvages some good material and puts to better use than filling a dumpster. The 2nd floor walls can definitely use a little help: an energy audit last winter revealed that they have no insulation in them. The studs have a greater R-value than the rest of the walls!

Final exhibit: my car will roll over to 100,000 miles in the next few days. I've had that car since the winter of 2004, when I bought it off-lease for a bargain price of $8500. It had less than 30,000 miles on it then. It had a couple of easy years in Minnesota, where Hilary and I had walking commutes. Since our return to New Hampshire, I've been putting over 1000 miles per month on it. It still runs well, and hasn't been too expensive to maintain. I think I can reasonably expect another 2-3 years from it (I hope: it'll take that long to finish paying off Hilary's Subaru!).

Still, scheduled maintenance at the dealer is never cheap. Replacing the timing belt (and associated claptrap like the water pump, tensioner, and serpentine) is recommended by now. That can get done by a local guy, but is still hundreds of dollars. And the car is due for state inspection. All of this on a volkswagon means I should probably just hand over my wallet and be done.

Coming soon: our street is getting torn up and redone in the coming weeks. On the plus side, it'll mean the sewer, water, and natural gas connections will get some upgrades, not to mention a smooth surface for B's continuing adventures with pedal-bicycling. On the downside, the local utility will need to punch a hole in the side of the house for the new gas line, and possibly trench our driveway.

It's probably best if we leave the crumbling retaining wall and front steps out of the conversation. And don't get me started on the 2nd floor bathroom. Is that kitchen faucet still dripping? I wonder if I'll ever see my garage workshop again. Anyone got some gasoline and a match?

At the moment, I'm feeling (and no doubt sounding) like a tired old curmudgeon.

Shoe Rack

One more bit of handywork, which I can now divulge since it's after Christmas...


This one was actually a request / Christmas present for my folks: a shoe rack in the style of one that I made for us some years ago. They had recently had a lot of work done on the first floor of their house, and wanted a place in the entryway for storing their shoes.

It has two shelves on a slight incline (for dirt and melted snow to flow down, ya see?). There's a crossbar at the back and a dowel across the front. These are used as cross-bracing to keep the rack square. But the rear cross brace can also be used to prop up the heel or toe of the shoes. The dowel in front is there to provide a sort of scupper for dirt and water to drip down.


The cross braces are oak; the rest of the construction is 1/2" finish plywood. The vertical sides had slots cut in them for all the horizontals to fit in. There was a great deal of router-work involved in this one: the slots, the round-overs, etc. The plywood, which is almost white when you look at it, got some stain to bring it closer to the color of the oak. After glue-up, everything got a few coats of varnish. The top face of the shelves, which will see the most abuse, got a few more.

Looks right at home.

Masonry

How times have changed. When this house was built about 100 years ago, a way of showing how monied and high class you were was to use brick in the construction. Nowadays granite and other natural stone is the big deal. So when I look at the foundation of the house and see large, local granite blocks right up to grade, then courses of bricks from grade up to the sill plate, I just shake my head and wonder.

One result of this is that the bricks of the foundation are exposed to the elements, and over time the mortar wears out and needs repair. When we were looking to buy this house, the home inspector noted this and mentioned that the bricks would need "repointing"pretty soon. Two years later and I've finally gotten around to it.

Repointing involves grinding or chiseling out the old mortar to get down to intact mortar, then scraping in new mortar. It's something that theoretically a DIYer can do, but I'd been meaning to have a professional take care of. The cost probably wouldn't be that much more, and certainly the frustration factor is a lot lower. A carpenter we've used for things in the past mentioned a mason he's worked with in times past, and being a slow time of year for masonry, he was able to come out and do it that same day. I was impressed that he was able to do anything at this time of year; I would have thought it was too cold for mortar to set up properly. But apparently, as long as it is not completely freezing, the mortar can be mixed in such a way that it works just fine. Being on the foundation, instead of a standalone structure out in the open, ensures that it'll stay reasonably warm, too.




So, apparently, this is what repointing looks like. From strolling around, it looks like about 2/3 of the mortar on each of the three exposed walls was touched up (the fourth wall is covered with the porch). Tick off another home maintenance item. This ought to take care of things for the next few decades.

Mailbox, part 2

I finished the new mailbox for the house last weekend. What took so long, when the carpentry was knocked out in a single day weeks ago? Some bad experience with paints is what happened. I'll start with the good:



Yes, it looks rather nice if I do say so myself. My better than what it replaced, certainly. Roomy enough even for one of those occasional 5-magazines, 2-netflix, and a pile of solicitations mail days.

The reason it took so long to finish off was due to a serious disagreement with the paint. I had wanted the paint to match the shade of green used for the woodwork of the new porch. It is, more or less, a dark, foresty green. So, at the local hardware store, I perused the color cards, decided on "Billiard Green," and had a quart mixed up. However, after two coats, it was pretty clear that the color wasn't even close. Instead of a sort of forest green that showed on the card, I got something more like the bright new leaves on our maple tree out front, or the green felt of a vegas table under the harshest light. Photography doesn't quite do it justice in terms of lighting and exposure, but even in this crude shot you can see it just doesn't match up:


Plus, after the two coats and a few days' drying time, the paint was still tacky to the touch. WTF?! So I too it back, along with the painted lid, and was able to swap it out for a new batch of a darker shade: Black Spruce. I thought about stripping the mailbox down to bare wood and starting over, but decided to take my chances with just painting over the first two coats (the alternative was many evening spend scraping away the old paint - it would have been faster and easier to just make a new box!) This was closer to what I was aiming for, and more closely matched the color swatch, but didn't quite match.



Somewhat defeated and very ready to move on, I deemed it "close enough" after two coats.

But a few days later, I discovered that this paint, too, was still tacky to the touch. I did a little digging and discovered why: many water-based latex paints, particularly thick exterior grades, are forever tacky even after fully curing. Something about the paint being flexible enough to expand with the wood. Many DIY pages warn specifically against latex paints for bookshelves and the like because of it. To which I respond: why the hell would you put a whole class of paint on the market that never actually dries? An oil-based paint would have yielded better results, I'm told, but I really didn't want to deal with fumes from the paint and mineral spirits, especially since I was doing this work in my basement. Plus, painting oil-based over layers of water-based latex is a recipe for disaster.

In the end I opted to put a clear-coat acrylic over top of the now four layers of green paint and hope for the best. This dried tack-free and, in this first week of use, seems to be doing alright. Another coat to the interior surfaces that those glossy magazines contact may yet be in order.