Day to Day

I’ve alerted Marc, probably ad nauseam, that I dislike intensely being surprised by surprise fees. Going for multiple environmental certifications—utilizing overlaps where possible—seems very much a potential minefield for such surprises. After considerable consultation—including one long discussion in the SALA conference room—Marc has come up with a detailed table showing all the costs for certification by GreenStar, LEED for homes, GreenPath and Living Building Challenge (the net zero subcategory). This is exceedingly helpful, because certification inevitably involves registrations, hiring a rater, and consultant fees—the biggest category by far.  SALA has an expert in the area—Joe Messier.   So our team has another member—actually two. Joshua will contribute the same kind of expertise from the Morrissey side.  It is reassuring that both SALA and Morrissey Builders have had experience with certification. Still, the project involves new territory since it is a rehab.  It doesn’t surprise me that it takes a professional to navigate the certification process.

A banner day!  For the first time in two months at least, the garage has been restored to its purpose of housing automobiles.  The staining/refinishing process is almost done—just one door left, and scattered pieces of trim.

In the refinishing garage, I am working on door 13 (out of 14), but have run into a problem.  The old main door (which will become the inner door) is a massive, potentially gorgeous hunk of door.  But the weathered side refuses to take a stain properly.  I’ve tried twice, and it has turned out yellow.  So, against despair, I strip off the finish a second time and cross my fingers that the third time is the charm.  Fortunately, the old veneer is a full eighth of an inch thick.

The bids are coming in.  The lighting appears to be within budget, the appliance budget has been blown by our preference for an induction range.  Bit by bit we are moving towards decisions.

We’ll need a dryer—a clothesline just won’t cut it—but face a dilemma.  Marc alerted me to the idea of a ventless dryer, one which would not exhaust preciously heated air outside the house.  And there is a new Whirlpool ventless dryer powered by a heat pump, which sounds right up our techy alley.  However, it lacks a steam cycle to reduce the need for ironing.  Another manufacturer (LG) has a heat-pump-driven dryer with a steam cycle—but it is not ventless.  So I write Marc: how much would we lose in GreenStar/LEED points by not going ventless?  Many of our decisions may be guided by the points we strive to get.  Perhaps this is the way we ought to operate—trusting the wisdom of those who designed the certification programs?  Hmmmmm.

Marc sends pictures from the site, showing the ridge beam inserted into the house at the peak of the roof.

I am astonished.  The original idea was to have a crane hoist the beam into place.  But Caleb’s carpenters—while he was offsite, no less—hoisted the 300-lb pieces of the beam by themselves, and assembled the composite beam on the spot—more than 20 feet long, 6 inches thick and 18 inches high. How on earth did they do that?

Around the other side of the house, I am waffling.  The new porch will need decking.  Sean and Caleb recommend fir—a good tough wood.  Marc has found an artificial decking made of 100% recycled plastic bags.  This “NyloBoard” promises zero maintenance, and I will admit I have had my fill of painting porches, which never hold up to the weather.  But the NyloBoard will cost three times as much.  How much is a lifetime vacation from porch-painting worth?

I start recruiting commercial sponsors for the project.  I send out the “Bella Luce” brochure to those suppliers who likely will be providing all of something, starting with the lighting and the plumbing, and ask in a very low key way if they’d like to be involved.  Hard selling is not in my genes

Having ‘schedules’ is actually a great idea—at least for the contractor. The client (that is me) puts down exactly what he wants, and as long as the contractor installs just that, any mistake is due to the client. Actually, I don’t mind that—I’d just as soon be in charge of my own errors. But doubts arise, and I query Caleb. Can the plumbing subcontractor, for example, substitute a different item from what I want? No. What if I just buy the plumbing fixture myself—do I save on an overhead charge? Not a good idea—no one can get fixtures more cheaply than a plumber.   So I set back to work on the schedule, and leave the ordering to the supplier—in this case, Ferguson’s.

Marc reports that Andersen is unable to finish their A series windows in custom colors—their rather limited palette of 7 is all we have to work with. We hold out hope that at least the doors might be of a custom color.   Consultation with Andersen takes quite a while, I’ve noticed. I hope the deliberateness translates into perfect execution of our large order, which is still under negotiation.

For a Halloween party, I dress up as a Net Zero.  Covered in mosquito netting, with a big “0” pinned on the front, and lightning bolt pinned on the back.  No one gets it—until I feed them copious clues.  Well, it isn’t exactly a knockdead costume.

Buoyed by the firm progress we made on the trip, in terms of nailing down lighting, tile and cabinetry, I set to work on the dreaded ‘schedules’—the listings of every piece of lighting, plumbing, appliances, finishes (paints, etc), to say nothing of the doors and windows Caleb and I have been sweating over.

Play hooky from the office on this Friday and apply top coating not only to five doors, but to a whole rack full of window and door trim.  Lots of walking back and forth, under crowded conditions, but I managed not to drop any pieces.

More shopping—we start with a couple landscaping stone places, then back to Tile by Design.  Last night we exercised our pricey imaginations at sumptuous feast of possibilities.  Today we return to reality, as we find intriguing and inexpensive solutions for the floors in the bathrooms.  I just wish the most attractive tile were not made in China.  We’re trying to buy locally.

Then to the main business—what turned out to be a five-hour meeting at SALA.  Many items on the agenda: we opt for an open porch (underneath—piers instead of a concrete wall); ruminate about choices in insulation; decide on the elements of the walkways and steps—concrete products from Rochester, pavers from Nebraska; sketch out the procedures and cost for green certification—I ask for a definite schedule of a time and costs to be invested therein.  Quite a fatiguing kind of meeting for the uninitiated, but we are all on the same page in wanting to make this house very special. I sense some pressure on Linda and me to make decisions, but our architect and builder are too kindly to hold our feet to the fire.