The framing of the addition continues to go quickly. Despite some rain yesterday, the exterior walls of the upstairs have been put up and nearly covered. The roof trusses arrive tomorrow and the interior walls will begin to take shape.
To watch the space come together is incredible. Almost a year ago, we began to shop architects, and for the past nine months we’ve stared at drawing after drawing. The final layout is a hybrid of a couple different concepts that Vandervort threw out as initial ideas. I remember looking over initial sketches in that first meeting and completely overwhelmed with the decision before us. And now, a few days shy of one month since we broke ground, I almost forget what the yard use to look like; and I know it won’t be long until we’re settled into the new space, with images of the previous structure a distant memory.
I have had some questions come up as I document the process, and with the bones of the structure nearly complete, I’ll do my best to outline what’s going on with the pictures below.
Taken from the ally, looking east toward the back of the house.
After missing the 11:30 ferry, we lined up for the 12:30 and grabbed a quick lunch at Ivar’s. We were headed over to Bainbridge to meet up with a high school friend of mine and his family. They moved to the east coast shortly after we arrived in Seattle and we were excited to reconnect and get the kids together.
After catching up for a bit and a quick trip to the store for snacks, we were off to Fay Bainbridge beach to cool off. The boys are all finally at the age where they’re playing well together; chasing each other with squirt guns and enjoying the water. The sun was blazing, the water was refreshing and the company was easily familiar.
Dillon got his shorts completely wet, and I carried him back to the car with his naked ass hanging out of a towel, in a worthless attempt to keep him from getting too sandy. The ferry home was late, the queue long, and the traffic heinous. But we made it home and Dillon crashed. Mission accomplished!
The crew left a bit early today, to escape the heat of the afternoon, but not before they put up the floor.
After days upon days of waiting for permits to arrive and concrete to cure, the framing is cranking along and the space beginning to take shape.
North wall placed at about 8:00 AM this morning.
Entire downstairs framed by 4:00 PM this afternoon.
If it wasn’t enough that half our yard is now cemented over, a grip of lumber was dropped off on Tuesday and there’s no turning back. I came home yesterday to find the frame of the north wall completed, and the footings prepared to receive the walls.
Since I was young, I’ve absolutely hated raw tomatoes. The texture, the taste, everything about them. Cooked tomatoes I’d manage, even a stew with slightly cooked chunky tomatoes was alright. But raw, no way, no how. Never. Ever.
It started with caprese a few years ago, the only instance in which you’d ever find me eating a raw tomato. Disguised among fresh mozzarella and basil and surrounded by incredible olive oil, I’d managed to choke down the tomato. And I remember the exact meal three years ago in which I actually enjoyed the tomato part of caprese for the first time, beyond my usual tolerance.
And then a few weeks ago, we had some grape tomatoes in the house. They were incredible. For the first time ever, I voluntarily put tomatoes on my salad. Ever. And it’s been down-hill ever since. As I stand in the kitchen writing this post, I’ve finished about half of the remaining grape tomatoes. No salad or mozzarella. Just one sweet tomato after another. Who knew tomatoes could be so good. There, I said it.
Since the footings were poured a couple of weeks ago, we’ve been busy taking care of below-ground drainage, grading and back-filling. And after getting plumbing permits signed off late last week, the slab was poured this afternoon. And now, more than you ever wanted to know about our new foundation.
July 24, 2008: Footing Forms & Re-bar
July 25, 2008: Pouring Footings
July 30, 2008: Finished Footings
August 11, 2008: Finished Slab
Outside the garage demolition, the last few days have been relatively slow. After the footings were poured and inspected, we’ve had to hold off on pouring the slab until the new sewer lines were installed, brought into the existing space and then routed through the footing to be connected to the existing sewer line.
While preparing for the sewer lines, the first demolition into the existing structure uncovered quite a surprise. While the project manager was chipping away at the tile and concrete floor, he uncovered a 5-gallon paint bucket filled with concrete. We haven’t figured out why on earth it was there, or if it ever had a purpose; and secretly hoped that it contained some sort of time capsule or a stash of money. Nothing.
Things have been relatively quiet ’round here. Which is to say that I’ve been too sick to do much of anything at all. We anxiously await some below-ground plumbing to be put in, followed by necessary inspections; after which the slab will be poured and things will take off like gang-busters as we get into the real business of construction.
As a part of the project, we planned to take down the garage; to be rebuilt at an undetermined point in the future. The detached single-car garage is original to the house, wood siding going directly into the dirt, and ready to tip over at any moment. I never trusted it enough to house a car; let alone my precious bikes, in fear that the moisture would rust the gears. For the last few years, it’s served as little more than a shed. Housing everything from the lawn mower to old paint cans.
With some extra help from cousins and neighbors, the garage is now a distant memory.
My family has known Katie’s family since I can remember. She and my brother went to preschool together and our parents became quick friends. They moved up to Washington a few years later and we’d all kept in touch over the years. I was excited to reconnect when we decided to move to Seattle, only to find out that they’d be moving back up to Bellingham.
About a year ago, they decided to move back down to Seattle and settled in about a mile from us. (Actually, it’s a mile and a half, door-to-door; and almost entirely uphill.) Dillon and Erin are both a few months younger than her girls, respectively, and I’ve been absolutely thrilled with how close the kids have become. What’s surprised me more is how much I’ve grown to enjoy our friendship.
When we left Virginia, we left behind our easy friendships; the kind people that you can call at 4pm and invite over for dinner, and have them show up an hour later with Bud Light cans in the stroller console. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve got some great friends here and have found some absolutely wonderful people that I could call for anything. But when I had two days to find childcare for Dillon at 7:30 on a Monday morning, Katie was the first person I called.
It was only a matter of time before I was able to convince Katie to start running with me, and a late-night drunk chat session was just the opportunity to pounce. I desperately needed to commit to someone, knowing that having her waiting would get me out the door for my mid-week runs that I often sleep through too easily. And so we started running together this week. Twice weekly, I head out for the 1.5 miles to her front steps, where we leave for a 1.5-mile loop and then back home for me.
It’s been a great first week and I’m looking forward to many more; but mostly looking forward to the opportunity to cultivate a friendship that we’ve passed on to yet another generation.
Dillon & Janie eating ice cream on the deck.
