Weeks 28-30 - Interior paint, siding and back porch

Weeks 28 through 30 seemed like they were mostly spent killing time while the interior was painted. We needed to get the inside painted before the cabinets could get installed, which needed to come before the sinks could be installed, which in turn needed to come before the plumbers could show up. Since the plumbers and the electricians had to work together to get the water heaters installed, the electricity was also held up. Given that only one guy, Jeff, was available to do the painting, it took forever. I was pulling my hair out the whole time. The progress was painfully slow, but we still managed to have some exciting moments.

Week 28 - Interior primer and exterior siding

I was glad that the appearance of the outside began to change as the siding went up. I was worried that my neighbors were thinking that I had run out of money.

Bright and wonderful

Inside, as soon as the primer went up, you began to get a sense for how bright and wonderful the interior of the home would be. For some reason, covering up the grey drywall with white paint changed the feel in a remarkable way, almost from a dingy prison cell to a wide open modern museum.

The most exacting siding in the world

There’s something satisfying about siding — so perfectly straight and even. Neighbor Jesse commented that British scientists could calibrate their standard reference length of a meter off of how perfectly the siding is spaced. The drawback is that the siding is taking forever: measure a piece, cut it, try to fit it in place, measure it again, cut it again, try to fit it in place again, repeat. I can’t imagine how this is going to work when they have to climb up and down a ladder for every cut.

Week 29 - Interior paint color fiasco

I was feeling busy so I figured I would save myself the trouble and just go with GO Logic’s standard interior color. After all, they are the experts.

Avoid Oxford White at all cost

I knew something was wrong when I saw the paint on the wall, but I waited a day to see how it would look after a second coat. By the time I got a chance to take a look at the color again, the whole upstairs had been painted in the most disturbing tint of white that has ever been observed by any human in the history of humankind. The painter Jeff was crying with the paint brush in his hand, it was that bad. A strange green tint would appear at different angles, under different lighting, and trick you into thinking that the walls were actually green. But then you would look directly at the wall and it would innocently switch to a perfectly white looking white, just to mess with you.

Always put up multiple colors on the wall for comparison

I ran to the paint store and discovered that every single white paint swatch looked exactly the same — no weird green tints, just white versus white versus white. By scrutinizing the colors inside, outside, in the sun, in the shade, I finally arrived at Mountain Peak. For comparison, I also took a can of Butter Pecan, which my parents have at their home. Once the colors were on the wall (above), it was clear that Mountain Peak was perfect, Butter Pecan was slightly too warm and Oxford White was to be avoided at all cost.

Lessons learned

In the end, it worked out and Mountain Peak turned out to be a wonderfully rich and creamy white, with just enough warmth to make the inside feel welcoming, yet bright enough to make it feel expansive. The lesson learned is that it is a good idea to pick out a set of colors and paint them on the wall before (a) buying all the paint upfront and (b) painting everything before getting feedback on the color.

Always double check that you received the correct item

There was one final lesson to be learned, however. I was super happy with the color choice until I noticed that the smell from the paint upstairs was quite strong. I’ve been extremely careful to avoid finishes that off-gas, and so I specified Ben Moore Natura, a zero VOC paint. The paint guy gave me all the paint in a box, I paid for it, delivered it to Jeff the painter, took off, and the next time I returned the upstairs was all painted. Somehow I ended up with the normal paint, not the Natura, and there was nothing I could do about it after the fact. So much for the healthy home thing.

Week 30 - Best back porch ever!

The back porch got started last week. Seemingly added on as an addendum at the last minute, it’s already one of the best features of the home. Most people assume that the main entrance is through the front main windows, but in fact it’s through the back side of the house. Hopefully the wrap-around driveway will clarify this in the future, directing you to the back porch which serves as a visual cue to the entryway.

The wide beams seem like overkill, but, aesthetically, something is so satisfying about their proportions. The siding — vertical slats of channel rustic lap siding — also seems like overkill. It is a lot of wood (pine), but it is beautiful, and somehow makes the porch feel like less of an outside space. The beams and the paneling will be coated with a natural sealer and the cedar deck boards will be left to age naturally.

Installing the standing seam roof, a neat roofing system

Tim Copinger and his crew stopped by to install the standing seam metal roof on the porch, so I got to see the process up close. The truck in the foreground has a giant machine that produces each metal sheet one by one, supply them right as the roofers install them.

The spool of Galvalume (an aluminum zinc alloy) on top feeds through some sort of mechanism that rolls out the metal sheets, bends up the edges, straightens out the sheets and automatically cuts them to size. It was neat to watch. You can see the flat piece emerging at the bottom right. The seams of each roof panel fit together and conceal a third piece, a clip. The clip fits under the panels and gets nailed to the plywood, and serves to keep the metal panels attached to the roof. Water can’t get through the seams to the clips so there’s no screw hole in the panels themselves to leak or require sealing. It’s a clever system.

Weeks 20 & 21 - We now have windows

I was out of town for weeks 20 and 21, so I missed out on the whole window installation process, which was a major bummer. Kathy stopped by after week 20 and sent me some pictures of the windows, which helped prevent me from being eaten alive with curiosity.

Kneer-Suedfenster is a German window company that’s been around since 1932. Their windows are custom sized, passive house certified, triple pane, high quality and — surprisingly — cheaper than Marvin double pane windows.

Since Integrity hadn’t installed Kneer-Suedfenster windows in the past, GO Logic sent down one of their carpenters from Maine to give a demo installation and to inspect the windows after their long trip from Germany. The guys reported that the installation was easy. Most of the windows were in place after three days of work.

First impression: oh wow, the frames are huge

Oh no! Check out how much the actual window area has shrunk! Back when the SIPs were installed, the window openings were already squeezing me in. Now I feel like I’m on an airplane looking through a port hole. I guess it’s the price we pay for energy efficiency — windows lose a lot of heat, and even the south facing windows upstairs have to be kept small to avoid over-heating on sunny winter days. The small size of the windows upstairs is probably the biggest — or maybe the only — serious sacrifice that the Passivhaus standard has brought, but it’s still hard to swallow.

The master bedroom widows, however, work well at this size. The three widows let in a good amount of light and allow a nice view of the hillside, but still give you a bit of privacy.

Kneer-Suedfenster windows are pretty awesome

Once you walk up to these windows, you notice how exquisite they are. The handles make you feel like you’re getting into a Mercedes. The feel is solid. The look is simple and elegant. The clicking and latching sound of the locking mechanism is reminiscent of a car door unlocking. There’s even a whooshing sound as the seal is broken as the window opens.

The thickness and heftiness of the window is ridiculous. It feels more like you are opening the door to a vault at the bank than a window. The triple paned glass must be almost two inches thick!

There are three levels of rubber seals to ensure that the window is air-tight, in addition to a bomb-proof locking mechanism that locks at multiple points all around the perimeter.

Tilt and turn is fabulous

Most windows in the US either slide up or sideways, or have that little ridiculous crank handle at the bottom that is impossible to use. Tilt and turn windows, popular in Europe, open inward like a door (shown above). It’s easy, convenient and satisfying — you get a full wide open window that brings in a ton of fresh air. You can pop your whole body out the windows for a good look around. You can clean the outside of the glass and install the bug screen from the inside.

For just a little bit of fresh air, turning the handle upward allows you to open the window from the top down — the tilt position. This is great for when you don’t want to deal with a wide open window or it’s raining outside.

Not so happy about the dining room windows

At the last minute, GO Logic panicked about meeting the passivhaus heating goal of 15 kWh/m2 per year. They decided to widen the set of three large downstairs windows which let in a large chunk of the solar heat. It made sense to increase their size, but the dining room area now feels much more wide open than I originally imagined. The inside feels too exposed to the street and the window layout feels somehow out of balance. From the outside, the vertical symmetry between the upstairs windows and the downstairs windows is awkwardly upset.

I might just need to calibrate myself to the new look, but I can’t help but feel that this scenario illustrates something broken with the passivhaus design process. The last minute redesign probably resulted in a tiny reduction of the actual heat load — just enough to bring us under the 15 kWh/m2 target — but it forced a number of errors and difficult compromises to an otherwise well planned project. I don’t have an easy prescription for avoiding this situation in the future, but there must be a better way.

Important things to know about windows

There are three important terms.

U-Value is the thermal conductivity of the window, often given in units of [Btu/hr SF ℉]. Lower U-Value is better for keeping heat in the home. Take the inverse of the U-Value to get the R-Value, which is typically used to describe the thermal resistance of walls. Air has a much lower thermal conductivity than glass, so trapping a pocket of air between two glass panes dramatically reduces the thermal conductivity of the window. A U-Value of 0.5 is horrible. A U-Value of 0.1 is fantastic.

Visible Transmittance (VT) is the percent of visible light that passes through the window. A higher VT is generally better, unless you want to avoid direct sunlight or glare. Lower VT windows will look tinted.

Solar Heat Gain Coefficient (SHGC) is similar to VT, but for the whole solar spectrum. One amazing fact about the solar spectrum is that heat itself is radiated in an identical way to light — as photons. Radiant heat is light, we just can’t see it with our eyes. In fact, most of the energy in the solar spectrum is in the form of invisible heat photons. SHGC describes the fraction of the total solar spectrum (heat plus visible light, plus other stuff) that penetrates through the window. Consider two similar windows that both look completely transparent to the eye. One might allow a lot of heat photons to pass through — giving a high SHGC. The other might fewer heat photons to pass through — giving a low SHGC. High SHGC around 0.7 is great for south facing windows because they let in a lot of heat. Low SHGC around 0.2 is great for north facing windows because they won’t let as much heat escape from the inside.

Week 12 - Second floor framing and a look at the beaver activity

Don, the carpenter, made tremendous progress again this week, especially considering the rainy and windy conditions. It’s such an exciting time. The house looks totally different every day. At this point, most of the second floor framing is in place.

I got to climb up on the second floor and have a look around. It was thrilling to finally be able to see the surrounding landscape from the second floor. I’ve been so curious to check out the window placement on the second floor, to see for myself what scenic landscapes are perfectly framed by the windows, and, sadly, what landscapes are obscured by the walls.

View from the second floor master bedroom

In the shot above, you are looking through the three master bedroom windows. The scene is framed wonderfully, I think. I love the straight driveway, lined with a row of trees, heading diagonally across the frame, drawing the eye toward the mountain. It’s more of an Amherst suburban feel, with roads, houses, fields and a mountain in the background. It’s a little weird that bedroom is exposed to the road, however. Maybe this room will have to be an office. I’m jealous of my neighbors who live on the south side of the road.

I can see Russia from my HOUSE!

Looking north, out over the top of the stairs beyond the window in the stairwell, I was slack-jawed — the view of the natural landscape is absolutely spectacular and the wildlife viewing opportunities are going to be amazing. You can’t quite get a sense for the detail and the intricacy of the landscape without a better zoomed-in image, but it feels like you are a hundred feet up in the air and you can see forever. Beyond the excavator, one can see (not in this image) the northern most beaver dam. Off to the left are apple trees, wetland, a beaver lodge, beavers swimming in the water and a beaver dam.

I shouldn’t have built a passive house

If you read my last post, you know that I’ve struggled with the limitations imposed by Passivhaus on north windows. Climbing up onto the second floor, I couldn’t escape the feeling that I have made a huge mistake. I should have gone with 100% glass walls. The best views are going to be completely blocked once the SIPs are in place. This spot calls for a viewing tower, not a demonstration to the world of an affordable and charming zero energy house. I suddenly dreaded the day when the SIPs are put up and the expansive 360 degree views will be gone. If only Amherst was located in the southern hemisphere.

I’ve got a plan

While I was up there, I hatched a plan — a sort of compromise that will allow me to salvage my energy efficiency fanaticism while still being able to enjoy the vistas that I feel like I suddenly can’t live without: I’ll put up a second story deck. All I need is a window door, right at the top of the stairs, to the left. The deck will run along the left wall toward the back and wrap around the back side of the house. The super-insulated enclosure is preserved, and if you need to see two raptors fighting (this happened), you can go out on the deck. I can’t afford to modify the project right now, so it will have to be an add on at a later time. Hopefully, GO Logic will think it’s possible.

The magical wetlands in the winter

Now that the snow has melted, I tried to capture the wetlands in their lovely wintery state of dormancy. I wanted you to see up close what I’m talking about. It’s also neat to see the remarkable transformation the beavers have wrought over the past year and a half — an engineering marvel and an expansion of habitat for aquatic wildlife — but at the cost of what once was a wonderful portion of the town trail, a treasure to the community.

Definitely a beaver lodge

Check out this great peek at the beaver lodge! It’s the huge pile of sticks in the center of the shot. When I walked up to the lodge, the beaver popped right out and swam around for a bit. I can’t believe it took us so long to find the lodge — it’s in plain sight and you can literally walk right up to it. I bet the brush must have been pretty thick before it died down in the winter.

Beavers build their lodges with underwater openings as the only entry and exist points. You can see one of the entryways at the base of the tree. Another entrance is located on the other side of the lodge, upstream (the width of the lodge spans a narrow peninsula). The underwater entrance protects the beavers from intruders like bears and bobcats who apparently can’t figure out how to get in from underneath. Also, the underwater opening gives beavers access to the water when everything is frozen over and covered in snow.

Flooded wetland

Click on the panorama to see the large version. You are looking east toward the house (it’s up on the hill next to the excavator — you’ll have to zoom in). The beaver lodge is on the right, out of view. The old footbridge is on the left — again, zooming needed. The massive beaver dam is also on the left, although it is hard to distinguish from this angle. Notice how the brook snakes through the area, but don’t be fooled: the whole plain is flooded. You are seeing the top of the marsh grasses that have died and fallen over.

For comparison, the above image was taken a year and a half ago. Now, the water level comes right up to the bridge, at times nearly submerging it.

Another dam downstream

Beavers raise the water level in steps, by constructing multiple dams. Here’s another flooded area and dam, downstream from the previous image. Notice the huge pile of sticks and the dramatic decrease in the water level. The image is facing south — you can see Mount Norwottuck and the house in the distance. Neighbor Jesse tells me that this dam has been here for a long time. The dead trees are a sign of this, as well. The water level is still pretty high in front of the dam, so I think there is another active dam further downstream. The area is difficult to navigate so I haven’t been able to get in there and look around. I need a some sort of a miniature boat, like an Inuit kayak.

Week 8 - Concrete poured, beaver lodge located

Suddenly, we have made major progress this week, despite the continued frigid temperatures! On Monday, the rebar was set into place and on Tuesday the concrete was poured. Everything seems to be going well, but not without some misunderstanding. Also, I think Ive finally located the beaver lodge.

Pouring the concrete

When I showed up, the first concrete truck had just finished pouring its portion of the concrete and the guys were spreading out the concrete and leveling it. The second truck was on it’s way, but I had to take off.

Power troweling the concrete all night

Later that night, I dropped in to find the concrete guy floating the concrete, using the power troweler on the right. After waiting for the concrete to cure until it was hard enough to walk on, he repeatedly ran the power troweler over the concrete until he was satisfied with the sheen. The process apparently took all night — it had to be done before the concrete hardened any further. Hopefully, the neighbors weren’t bothered by the sound of the generator.

Here’s the floor in the morning. It looks smoother, but what’s all that white stuff?

Is this polished concrete?

The concrete process seems to be deviating from what I expected, and I’m not exactly sure what is going on. We had decided on polished concrete floors — an agonizing decision because of a the $5/sq ft premium over traditional concrete, with a total cost of $15.6/sq ft. For comparison, $14/sq ft is the cost of a high-end wood floor. The concrete doubles as the foundation, so it’s not a fair comparison, but still — it’s not cheap.

Polished concrete has the advantage that it does not require chemical sealers or annual waxing, and apparently the look is better. As I understood it, the process for polished concrete follows these steps:

1. Once the concrete hardens, it is ground down to a smooth finish, exposing the aggregates in the concrete.
2. A densifier is applied to the concrete to harden it, providing a hard surface that does not need maintenance. The densifier is a non-toxic mixture of silicic acid, potassium salt and water that reacts with the concrete to produce calcium silicate hydrate, a super-strong material.
3. The hardened concrete is ground down to a progressively finer finish until the desired polish is achieved.

It looks like the concrete guy is actually going down a much different route, which might end up fine, but I’m worried about getting a floor that looks like a basement rather than something that suits a living room. One aspect that concerns me is the troweling process, described above. Apparently this process buries the aggregates under the surface of the concrete, giving a more homogenous appearance that is typical of a concrete floor. But the texture that the aggregates provide seems to be partly what makes polished concrete look so good. I’m crossing my fingers that it will turn out OK. I’m also wondering where the $5/sq ft premium went.

On Friday, after a couple of days of curing, the densifier was applied. I’m hoping that those scuff marks are not permanently engrained in the concrete. I guess there’s no turning back now.

Here’s one of the two massive propane burners, running 24/7 for a week now to keep the concrete warm.

Did I find the beaver lodge?

To relieve my worry about the concrete floor, I decided to go check on the beavers. I think I found their lodge, but I’m bothered by the fact that it is so close to the trail — it seems like I would have seen it earlier. Notice the pile of sticks covered in snow, right at the center of the photo. It could be a random pile of sticks, but the location makes me think it is a lodge. Look at how the lodge is situated right at the crux of the stream’s oxbow — this is exactly the same positioning as an abandoned beaver lodge further down stream. My guess is that theyve installed two entryways, one downstream and one upstream.

The beaver dam is still holding up well. This most extensive dam in the area. Starting from the lower right side of the image, the dam runs diagonally and then continues to zig zig into the distance, making its way to the hillside that you can see in the background — a massive work of engineering.

After a year of work, almost set to begin

In retrospect, it was not a wise decision to build this house.  It's been over a year now of endless catastrophe -- an emotional up and down of "wow this is the best thing ever" to "how did I get myself into this anxiety-producing, money-losing, relationship-killing mess."  I consoled myself by walking down to the bridge to take in the beautiful landscape, until the beavers moved in and flooded the place.  Then it was the apple orchard, a delightful spot in the spring in full bloom, until I arrived to find three trees chopped down.  Securing the loan and signing the construction contract was a difficult process; long and stressful, with many painful financial decisions -- everything about the entire house had to be fully specified.  Now, in spite of all this, a permit is likely to be issued soon, and once that happens the project is set to begin, ushering in a smooth, effortless and faster-than-expected building phase; I'm sure of it.

Bridge crossing the brook that runs through the wetland area, a wonderful spot now flooded by beaver dams.

One of the magnificent apple trees, in full bloom before the beavers got to it.