Solo Stay

The knee walls - much scaled back from the original idea - almost done...

Now that most of the heavy construction is done - and the cabin season is almost over - it was time to take the truck up to clear out the scraps and cart home the tools. There is a growing list of 'primary house' work that needs doing but has been neglected because the tools are a few hours north.

The truck doesn't fit 3, however, and the LSW has developed the alarming habit of falling asleep at the wheel when she drives solo for any length of time, so the solution was for me to do an overnight trip after work coupled with a final day working the 'punch list'.

As we're going up one more weekend later this month, my original goal was to finish the drywall work so we could finish priming next time. Looking at the remaining 2x4s and bead board pine scraps, however, I opted to finish the knee walls in the lofts.

The original idea for the knee walls was essentially custom cabinetry for storing clothes. Over time, this scaled back to simply running the bead board ceilings to the floor, and evolved to foot-high walls faced with bead board to both make cleaning easier and use up the bead board scraps.

I figured I could knock these off in the morning and spend a few hours in the afternoon with the drywall, but - as always - it took longer than expected. In the end, I finished them and most of the trim around the bathroom ceilings before packing up all of the tools, paints, stains, and scraps, draining the plumbing (just in case - we had sub-freezing temps one night last week) and giving the place a good cleaning.

1x4 pine trim to finish the ceilings in the bath.

This is the first time I was in the cabin alone for the evening, and it felt odd. I'm basically a homebody so being alone was a little unnerving, but a call to the LSW and a good book got me through. I woke up at 7, got up to turn up the heat, and then climbed back into the sleeping bag to lay around for about an hour thinking about the work. This is one of the best things about life in Shangri-La - wake up whenever and then get up when you feel like it. No clocks, and nothing that has to be done. Suddenly I'm really looking forward to retirement

Odds and Ends

The knee wall framing is finally in place. In the back loft, anyway...

The work has been minor since the ceilings for two reasons: We spent the 2012 cabin budget on them, and we're too busy enjoying the place.

The LSW is right - Vermont is a epicurean paradise. Food gathered at the Brattleboro Co-op is usually supplemented by stops at farm stands, resulting in our going from mostly eating out to mostly eating in. Amazing what you can do with a grill, toaster over, hot plate and dorm fridge.

Uh...amazing what the LSW can do, that is - I still mostly don't cook.

Recent trips have mostly involved meeting the neighbors, geocaching and attending local festivals. The night routine tends to begin with cheese, pepperoni, crackers and drinks and proceeds to sitting around a campfire until bed time. Nice. Really nice.

On the work front, though, we have managed to make a small dent in the punch list despite the lallygagging:

• The bath - and about 20% of the remaining walls - has been primed. The bath has also been painted.
• The Vanity is installed. We finally have a working sink! Unfortunately, I've lost the thing on the faucet that closes the drain, so we have to reach into the vanity and close it manually. Eventually I'll get around to ordering a replacement part.
• The knee walls on the back loft are completed.
• The fire alarm has been installed. Improperly, it turns out. According to the instructions, it was supposed to be at least 6" down from the peak, something I didn't know when we installed the box and put up the ceilings.
• The 3-way switches for the track lighting has been hooked up. While doing it, I found that I only needed 3-lead wire between the two switches, as power comes into one and both track lights hook to the other. I made the mistake of running 25 feet of 3-lead wire to both track lights instead of using the 2-lead wire I already had - a $30 mistake.
• I used scrap EWP ship lap to cover the Tyvek under the porch roof. We'll do the remainder of the underside in T&G bead board pine next spring. We've got to get something up and paint it blue because the hornets love the underside of the roof.
• The remainder of the tile backer board for the entryway is now installed, as is the marble threshold for the bathroom.

Front wall primed. Side wall, not so much.

 I'm planning a solo trip soon to replace the basement door with something that seals better (in what I'm sure is a futile attempt to keep the mice out), finish what little remains of the drywall mudding, and clear out the material scraps. That will be followed by another weekend trip with the LSW and the Boy in which we plan to complete the priming and close the place up for the winter.

Looking around, I believe that next year we'll be able to finish the place and start working on our long neglected primary home. Unless we decide we need to immediately turn to the guest cottage that will allow us to share it with friends...

All play and no work

LSW here. Oh, we've been terrible about posting. The good news is, though, that we've been up to Shangri-La pretty much every other week since August. The bad news is, we haven't gotten much done. I'll take the blame for that. It's hard to be a slave driver when it's just so darn beautiful. I'll let the Vermonster fill you in on the building details, while I tend to the other stuff. Like the food, for instance. I'm pretty sure I've said it before: Vermont is a food lovers' mecca. We always stop at the Brattleboro Co-op on the way to the cabin to stock up on provisions. Going in there is kind of like going to Target. You  know what you have to buy, but there's always something else that strikes your fancy. This time, it was Vermont-smoked pepperoni and maple-infused goat cheese. Oh man, talk about making your happy hour even happier. These nibbles were so delicious.

On Sunday, we headed to Dummerston for the annual Apple Pie Festival. Now, I'll be honest here and say that the pie isn't the best, but there's lots of it, and it's THE place to be. If you're looking for a small-town festival, this is the place to go. There's a craft fair, a tag sale (they were even selling chickens), a pancake breakfast and lots and lots of bikers.

After some breakfast pie, we headed down the street to Scott Farm, which was amazing.

They were giving a talk on heirloom apples, so of course I bought a bunch and immediately came home and made a pie. The Vermonster says it's the best he's ever had. I think he's just buttering me up so I'll make more.
We had lunch at the farm, which consisted of hand-made pizzas with toppings like apples, kale, and honey mustard or maple sauce and Vermont chevre. 

In any case, while we weren't eating or visiting with the neighbors or geocaching, we were hard at work. Stay tuned for an update of our latest adventures, which include (but are not limited to) staining the porch, constructing the knee walls, putting in new light bulbs and finally hooking up the sink! 

Second Annual 'Big Push' Redux

The last 'big push' weekend was - to my thinking - an unqualified success. We got more done in the weekend than would have otherwise been done the entire year. I was completely satisfied.

Dad, however, was not. 

He had expected that we would complete the ceilings, and we didn't, so something had to be done. And it was: When visiting my sister a few weeks later, he kidnapped my brother-in-law and showed up at the cabin at noon on a Thursday. By Friday noon, the ceilings were done, and more of the plaster sanding to boot. Here are some photos...

 

Asleep on the job? Not exactly. We built temporary bridges for the work above the cathedrals. Laying the lowest courses of the ceiling were the most awkward, forcing you to lay on the bridges while trying to maneuver the T&G with one hand and use the nailer with the other. All while remembering not to slide to far backward...

While the boys worked upstairs, the LSW took the 'easy' work sanding the sheetrock plaster. She can attest that it's unpleasant at best, but at least we're close to done.

The boards were anywhere from 18" to 14', while the rafters were 2' on center starting 2" off center from the middle of the cabin (don't ask). The trick was trying to make the most efficient use of the materials at hand while not letting any seams line up. Eventually, they got it to a science.

The Brother-in-Law. He and my father worked upstairs measuring, fitting and nailing while I stood downstairs to receive boards, cut them, and pass them back up. We had a clever idea for propping up the chop saw outside the upstairs window, but it turned out that the only 10" blade we had was dull as a brick.

The upstairs isn't quite as hot with the insulation in place, but we definitely needed the fan. The weather was cooler than the prior work weekend, though, so we considered ourselves lucky.

 

The finished product. To cover the seam at the peak, my father wanted to run a single board (the length of the cabin). I wasn't sure this would look right and suggested that we cut about 56 6" pieces and run them width-wise (like the underside of the bridges). Dad washed his hands of this, but admitted in the end that it looked pretty good.

So the place looks awful close to 'done' now. What would have taken 2 years of occasional weekends for me, the LSW and The Boy took about 4 days with a crew of 3. I'm incredibly grateful.

In other news...

The Boy decided that he was Indiana Jones all weekend, despite the cowboy hat, 6-shooter and badge. Here he's holding Geocache #25 for the Vermonster family.

The Boy also lost another tooth over the weekend, and found himself 90 cents richer once we helped the Tooth Fairy scrounge for change.

The next trip up will be in August, when - if everything works out - we'll finally prime the bathroom and hook up the vanity. No more brushing our teeth and washing the dishes in the bathtub!

The Second Annual 'Big Push' Weekend!

Noting the slow progress of the remaining work, The Slave Drivers conspired to convene in Shangri-La to whip the effort into shape. Somehow they tricked me into joining them. The plan was to finish the drywall and ceilings so that the LSW and The Boy didn't have to feel that they were living in a construction zone each time they came to enjoy what is - overtly at least - a vacation home.

I forgot my camera, but my sister came prepared and documented the proceedings. The results, in no particular order...

There was a whole lot of cuttin' goin' on. 2,000 linear feet of tongue-and-groove pine bead board to cover the ceilings both downstairs and up. Doing the ceilings in wallboard is cheaper, but more intimidating to the do-it-yourselfer. Or at least to this one. And who wants to tape, mud, sand and paint overhead?

Installing the pine overhead was just a matter of logistics. The process we settled on involved 4 chairs topped with two-by-four supports and capped with 3 8-foot sections of pine to walk on, a ladder on the edge of the loft to sight the seams, two hammers and scrap pine to get everything tight, and a large trim nailer to lock them in place. Here I'm demonstrating my mastery of a critical piece of equipment: A broken piece of white pine ship lap used to jimmy the 'sproingitty' pieces in place for nailing. Note the metal joist strapping; I didn't know if it would cause the boards that crossed it to bend downward - it didn't.

Mmm...breakfast. The Slave Drivers kept us in food throughout the weekend. My father took care of two dinners out and grilled steaks one night and burgers another. My sister took care side dishes and breakfasts, which included...

Bacon in a cup!!

Once 'the system' was in place, the ceiling under the front loft took about 2 1/2 hours. Every board - although nominally the same length as the loft - had to be trimmed, and we had to work around one light and the entry closet. It was surprising how much the ceiling brightened the downstairs; paint on the walls should help further.

As we're currently sleeping in the living space, every day ended with about an hour of clean up. The cots, bed rolls and sleeping bags are seen here stacked in the corner; most days, they passed the day stacked on the [new!] back porch.

When we cleared the kitchen for ceiling work, I took the opportunity to lay the remaining tile backer board. We had just enough to complete the kitchen and extend the entry tile to the entry closet. My sister claims a hellish marathon backer board session at her house a couple of years ago, but I'm skeptical. The work is as easy as drywall: Score, break, lay and secure. We tried to show her, but she was so traumatized from her previous experience that she refused to look.

We spent the first evening relaxing on the front porch, but had to move to the back when the materials arrived. Afternoon storms were in the forecast, and so the porch became materials storage for most of the weekend.

The aforementioned 'system', and a clever way to to keep the trim nailer handy when not in hand.

While the living room ceiling was going up, I finished the framing and insulation of the gable ends so the wall board could be installed. I had devised a particular system for doing both gables with 4 sheets of dry wall, and we wasted considerable time while I described that system to my father, who - it turned out - had an even cleverer idea that eliminated two seams. My experience is that you're never quite as smart as you think.

Hmm...steak, potatoes, onions, garlic and beer (not pictured).

The Slave Drivers enjoying a libation on the back porch.

Yours truly setting the decking in place. Note the safety shoes we're always careful to wear on the work site. Fun fact: It was 95 degrees and humid as hell!

The slave drivers proudly display the 'architects model' for the cabin. Surprisingly, it was the perfect side to double as the gable-end dry wall...

If you don't have the materials (or energy) to light the fire pit, I'd suggest citronella candles. Bonus: As the evening goes on, they get creepy-looking, providing a perfect backdrop to ghost stories. Not pictured: The bats overhead early in the evening, and the fox that trotted jauntily across the back yard.

Rest for the weary? Actually, no: After this picture was taken, I was up most of the night because camping cots suck.

The insulation in the lofts has been half-finished for months, and this weekend we finally completed the work. Good riddance to bad work! I'm wearing gloves, but that's just psychological protection. You breath the stuff, it gets all over your skin and clothing, it itches and - coupled with the heat and humidity - makes you feel filthy and miserable. Next to roofing, hands-down the worst do-it-yourself job.

My father is the resident expert in taping and mudding, and he took care of rough-coating the downstairs dry-wall on the first day. The morning of the last day, he finished the final coat in the bath, so we should be able to lightly sand and then prime the bath on the next trip up.

One of the 'small' jobs of the weekend was removing the back door to figure out why it was leaking. The short answer: Installer error. No drip cap above, and no caulk under the exterior trim. Water was running down the sides, finding its way under the trim and settling on the sub floor. The door came out, the mold was killed with bleach, a drip-cap was installed, and the door went back in properly caulked. Hopefully, the problem is now solved. In celebration, I bought a screen door that will go up next time.

I hadn't thought about what we'd do with the underside of the bridge, so we went with my father's idea to use the ceiling material installed at a 90-degree angle. I think it works well.

Me and Sis.

The loft ceilings were more of the same, but a lot more awkward given the length - almost 28 feet - and the 45-degree angle. We built temporary bridges to span the cathedral, but were slowed by the fact that the rafter framing was not always exact on so the measurements of each piece needed to be verified. We had just started to get a system in place when we ran out of time (and energy!). 1/4 of the loft ceilings are complete.

Still, it looks finished if you stand in just the right place...

Dad and I on the back porch.

Great weekend, nice visit, and more work done than I would have accomplished alone all year! It takes a village. Or at least a family.

On insulation and bugs

LSW here and we’re back from a gorgeous weekend in the Green Mountain State. But first, I need to recap our visit a couple of weeks ago. We’re slowly getting brave enough to tell people to come visit us. There’s not enough room to have overnight guests yet, but my brother and his wife came up for the weekend and stayed at the Latchis in Brattleboro. We went to the Vermont Country Store (where they were having a candy contest—fun!). We bought a dragon bell for the cabin and that night we had our first campfire on the front lawn. We’re getting there, slowly but surely.

You rang?

This past weekend was an unexpected trip. We originally had plans with friends at home to do some crazy mountain tubing hijinx, but the vertigo got the better of me and we had to cancel. So up to Vermont we went.

On the way up, we stopped at the Putney Co-Op to buy a “few” things to add to all of the CSA vegetables we brought up with us. I suggested we go to the grocery store, but the Vermonster is all about supporting the local scene. We did our part by dropping $75 there. Ah well, we’re healthier for it.

Setting up the cabin has gotten to be a much quicker, easier routine now that we’ve done it a few times. I set up the “kitchen” and the Vermonster sets up the cots and sleeping bags. I made a big salad for dinner and we popped open a bottle of wine and played Life on the front porch with The Boy. We forgot firewood for the firepit, so we went inside and watched a couple of episodes of The Simpsons before calling it a night.

This time, The Vermonster brought along his favorite pillow and, like the road less traveled, it made all the difference. He had a good night’s sleep.

Because the cabin is situated on the southwestern side of the mountain, we don’t see the sun until about 7:30 in the morning. This is distressing to the Vermonster, but makes me very happy. The boys were up and out by 8:30 and went to the lumber yard where they ordered $1700 worth of sheetrock, insulation and tongue-and-groove beaded pine ceilings. The Boy got a free American flag out of the deal, so nobody can say we didn’t get a bargain.

Apparently they then stopped for some Mocha Joe’s coffee and homemade donuts (none of which made it back to me). It’s the price you pay for sleeping late, I suppose.

Insulated gable #1

[Vermonster here: For $1,700, we got 2,000 linear feet of 6” beadboard pine ceilings, 300 square feed of R38 insulation and 4 sheets of 3/8” wall board. The insulation will complete the ceilings, the wallboard will complete the gable walls in the lofts, and the ceiling material will be used in the kitchen, bath, living room, lofts and cathedral. This work will be the focus of an upcoming weekend with my father and sister – stay tuned. I have no excuse for the missing donut and coffee.]

Insulated gable #2

The Vermonster finished putting the insulation on the gabled walls in the lofts, while The Boy and I cleaned the porch to prep it for staining. The sun was strong, so it didn’t take too long to dry, but The Boy had other ideas and continued to spray it down. We gave up on the idea of staining the deck and washed my car instead.

Child labor at its finest

We quit work around noon to head up to the Quechee Balloon Festival. We went last year and loved it, so we were excited to go again. This time, we got off in Springfield to see if there were any stores there for future reference (if, for instance, we ever forget pillows and underwear again), but we got diverted because of a parade, so we still don’t know what’s there. The town of Woodstock was getting ready for its own parade, otherwise we would’ve stopped there. Apparently it was National Parade Day and we forgot to build a float. Woodstock looked very cute with little shops and cafes; we’ll have to go back.  

This year, the Balloon Festival switched locations, due to damage incurred by Hurricane Irene. It was a beautiful day. The sun was bright and the blue sky was full of big puffy clouds. The Boy spent a good part of the day on various bouncy death traps that no doubt harbored all sorts of nasty germs. We took a walk through a nature preserve, then decided it was time for an early dinner. Choices included fried this, fried that, fried this and that and crepes. The one major problem with the festival is that you can only have beer or wine inside the beer tent. When happy hour hit, we were wishing we packed a flask.

The balloons were supposed to take off at 6. We placed our chairs on the field around 5, at which point some little old lady came and stood right behind our chairs and started talking on her cell phone. She had an entire field in which she could’ve stood. Why was she standing right behind us?  Exasperated, the Vermonster and The Boy went to explore. The old lady finally left, only to be replaced a few minutes later with another old lady, this one eating popcorn. Right behind my seat. I half expect to see us on a hidden camera show.

The winds were picking up and the launch kept getting postponed. Finally at 7 we decided to pack it up. We went to the balloon festival and didn’t see any balloons. Wah, wah, wah.

Sunburned and exhausted, we drove the hour home, during which The Boy fell asleep. When we pulled into the driveway, his eyes popped open and he pointed to sky. “I saw it take off!” he shouted.

We got him into his pajamas and he settled into bed to read my copy of “123 Magic,” a book on disciplining your children. (I don’t know if he retained any of it or not.) Meanwhile, we sat on the porch with our long-awaited drinks and listened to the night sounds. Frogs, crickets, bats, something rustling in the woods. We’re still not used to this country living.

[Vermonster: By ‘we’, the LSW must mean her and The Boy. I feel right at home in the country. There was enough wildlife noise that night that I was put in mind of the jungle, however…]

Sunday, we slept late again. We cleaned up the cabin and then headed to Saxton’s River for breakfast. It was packed… what gives? We realized it was Father’s Day. (Henri had given Brian his gift on Friday… a decoupaged rock that said, “My dad rocks.”) It was crazy busy but our breakfasts were delicious (even if they did forget the eggs in my egg skillet). The best part of the morning was when The Vermonster inadvertendly gave the waitress a 60% tip. Today’s good deed.

We headed back to the cabin to finish packing and then we stained the deck before leaving. It wasn’t the most productive weekend we’ve had, but it was relaxing and lovely. The weekend did, however, leave us with some unanswered questions, such as:

1) What are the tiny little bugs flying into the shingles and are they doing damage?

2) Why is the back door leaking and why do we have to spend $250 to fix it even though it’s only been in for a year?

and

3) What are the little worms (larvae?) we keep finding in the bath tub every morning and where are they coming from? Stay tuned as we look for answers to these, and other questions.  

Opening Day 2012

LSW here. The Vermonster has requested a blog post from me, although Opening Day 2012 is already a distant memory. (Note to self: increase fish oil supplements.)
As he already reported, we arrived at Shangri La only to discover that we had forgotten pillows, towels, socks and underwear. Much better than forgetting the keys, though, so there's no need to complain.
I had a deadline to meet, so I spent much of our Saturday down in Brattleboro writing an article and searching for underwear while The Vermonster framed out the back deck. He also installed the hose thingy in the picture above. Now we're ready to host Shangri La's first annual fundraising car wash and sprinkler party. 
Hopefully over the next few trips we'll be able to finish off the deck, prime the bathroom and install the vanity. Despite the fact that the sink isn't hooked up to the water yet, I consistently try to turn it on to brush my teeth and wash my hands. Old habits die hard.

Opening Up the Season (in Brief)

Our first trip up was in April, and the next one is soon. On the first trip, we forgot towels, pillows and underwear, and we learned that we have to drive (seemingly) 2 hours to get them. Another valuable lesson learned.

While there I finally got the hose spigot installed and built the base for the rear deck. The deck is small - 8'x8' - and is meant primarily to have a space off the kitchen for the grill. Rough wiring for the center track lighting rounded off the weekend's work, and the rest of the weekend was spent 'enjoying'.

We met the neighbors at the bottom of the hill, got plugged into the local historic preservation efforts, and took a very long hike on the abandoned roads at the top of the hill. 'Movie night' with the boy was Tin Tin and Hugo (Friday and Saturday, respectively) - both really good animated flicks!

Forgotten tidbit from last year: While delivering some woodworking tools to a neighboring town here in CT, I was offered a working refrigerator that the buyer wanted out of his garage. It works great and will go up to the cabin in June.

Mistake this year: We went up in early April, turned on the water, and - based on a rosy 5-day forecast - left it on. This resulted in an unexpected trip on day 6 to turn it off in advance of a cold snap. Lesson learned (at least until the crawlspace is insulated).

The Winter (and Summer and Fall) of my Discontent

LSW here. It's been kind of quiet around here lately, hasn't it? I figured it was high time that I chime in, lest you think the Vermonster finally left me for some mountain woman. Instead of my usual witty and enormously entertaining posts, though, I think I'm going to get a bit introspective. If that thought gives you the heebie-jeebies, just move on. I won't be offended.
It's been about six months since I last posted. It's no coincidence that that was also the time when I was hit with a non-stop, full-on case of head-spinning vertigo. I woke up one morning in August and thought, "Huh. The room is spinning. I must have an ear infection." So off I went to the ENT and got some medicine and sat back, waiting for it to clear up. Only it decided to have a long-term relationship with me. Six months later, I know the layout of every waiting room in town. In addition to the ENT, I've also seen two GPs, a neurologist, a neuro-opthalmologist, two different physical therapists, a pain management doctor, an acupuncturist, an osteopathic doctor and a Reiki healer. I've had blood tests and tests where they shoot hot air into my ears and flash bright lights in my eyes. I've stopped drinking alcohol and caffeine. I'm eating a gluten-free diet and taking a steady regimen of vitamins and supplements. In short, I've been doing everything I can possibly think of to kick this thing's ass, because frankly, it's been trying to kick mine.
Now let me just state for the record that I am immensely fortunate in my life. I realize that I have so much to be grateful for, vertigo included. Because it's *just* vertigo. Yes, I feel like I'm hungover all day, every day, but I'm completely healthy and I know all too well not to take that fact for granted. Several times a day I remind myself that I've got it good.

   (No, this is not me. This is a photo I appropriated from Blogiseverything.com. Imagine if everything around you appeared like this, 24/7. It's a wonder I'm not in padded cell at this point.)

So what does this all have to do with the cabin, you ask? Oh yes, the cabin. We closed it up for the winter shortly after the vertigo reared its ugly head because just the thought of packing a suitcase was exhausting and overwhelming. Never mind the fact that I had no idea what I'd do once I got there. I can't climb a ladder, that's for sure. I definitely can't be trusted with power tools, as my ability to visually focus has been greatly compromised. And playing with The Boy has changed significantly. There's no running on my part, no tossing, bouncing or rolling balls. Hide-and-seek is do-able, as long as I move slower than molasses, but playing tag is out. Within a matter of weeks, The Boy went from watching the occasional educational TV show to knowing every episode of Sponge Bob and developing an addiction to Angry Birds. Not my proudest moment.
Every week, the Vermonster comes home from work with a revised scheduled for the next year, with all of our trips to the cabin mapped out. He's asked for my input on when we should plan to go up, what we should try to accomplish this year and what fun things we can do in addition to work. I've tried to offer suggestions, but the fact of the matter is that it's been tough. I've been fighting off thoughts that occasionally rise to the surface: What if the vertigo never stops? What if I'm never able to work on the cabin again? How can I focus enough to get excited about going back up there, when all I really want to do is lie down in bed (the one time when the spinning stops).
We're three years into this project, and while we have a long way to go before we can say we're finished, it's become an integral part of our lives. It's too late to turn back now-- we've invested too much sweat equity to ever leave it-- but the future seems so up in the air.
I don't doubt that once spring hits I will get a renewed sense of purpose and drive. I had a good meeting with a doctor today that's made me feel hopeful once more and each day my brain seems to be compensating a little more. The dizziness is still there, but I can deal with it better now. I know my limits and I can plan my days accordingly. Hopefully, by the time summer hits, I'll be ready to don my hard hat and take up the Paslode, because this cabin ain't going to build itself. It needs me and yes, I need it.