Day One Hundred and Seventy One

These are working photographs, meaning they are posted so that Emily in London can make decisions based on the location of the pink "sticky notes", the thickness of the trim that Tom is holding and the width and colour of the board just above the concrete base.

Go go go Em.

And finally. Emily, the tape Tom is holding is approximately three feet - that would be the flat "landing" area on either side of the door; it's not excessive and will balance with the 12 feet of very gently rising ramp.

The Small White House is now called the Bungalow, or The Blue Bungalow. I think. Anyway, it's going to be an art gallery.

Day One Hundred and Sixty Eight

I was shocked into consciousness this morning with a call from London and the requirement to start discussing external lights, their placement, how many and how brightly they should shine - completely understandable - the caller from London did have several pressing social events to attend and because my beauty sleep has achieved nothing in the last 46 years it could obviously wait another couple of hours.

Because I am an early and cheerful riser this challenge posed no problem to the Smith constitution - I coughed, rubbed my eyes, sprang out of bed like a March hare, made a swift cup of English tea, almost passed out under the weight of such exercise, found my feet and began the conversation...

 













$21.98. I repeat $21.98. I can't possibly say what the first light costs - something in the region of a single, one game club seat at Yankee Stadium.

Oh, mustn't forget the floodlights. I love a decent floodlight - when it's on a baseball pitch. But as we will probably need them - boy is it dark in rural Pennsylvania - I quite like these two...

The role of the floodlights is to quietly illuminate the office rather than making it visible from West Finchley. Which is a problem - how do you know before installing them how bright they are going to be? A floodlight expert is called for here. I'm being serious.

It's still the weekend, so I'm indulging myself with early morning at Christmas in the desert and West Hollywood.

Day One Hundred and Sixty Seven

Help.

What configuration? Horizontal or vertical?
Emily says horizontal and that's what Tom will be installing, but I like the idea of vertical - the switches closely stacked and running in line with the end of the wall; I think Mies would have approved...

An outline of their placement in the office. Simple. Except it took 7 hours over 3 days to finish.

 














And here's the architect plan of the office, which I don't think shows the switch placement, but I actually have no idea because there's so much going on - regardless, it's a thing of beauty.

It's the weekend, so here's Mike in the desert on Christmas Day - just strolling back from a good night's mousing and showing absolutely no interest in switches, lights or wiring. Bliss.

Day One Hundred and Sixty Six

Back on track - back on those fiendishly twisting and turning and occasionally dead end tracks that bamboozled us a while back.

 

Electricals (which explains the peculiar photo of Tom above - Emily is in London and needs to work out where the external lights should be placed), plumbing, tree cutting, grading and decking.

Nothing grand.

Unlike tomorrow, when this blog will be devoted to switches, dimmers and sensors. In 46 years I've not once, not once, thought about the placement of light switches on walls - what lamb like innocence. I'm rocked by the recently gained knowledge that a room can fall apart, collapse, become unlivable if a switch is incorrectly positioned.

There is nothing like precision.

Day One Hundred and Thirty Five

Sixty One days ago these ramblings came to an abrupt halt - because work on the building had come to a complete halt - because the scope of the renovation we were doing meant we required a specific planning permit and code-perfect architect plans.

Nice.

At least the windows are in.

Day Seventy Four

As it seems our new office is further away than Orion, I thought it only reasonable to post something, something on this blog.
So, here is Zoe, the office (non-donut eating) dog and Gary, her owner. The bikes are Gary's donation to the local Amish children.

This blog has really lost its way. Dogs, cowboys, bikes. A few years ago you could log on to this place and get some useful nonsense about doors, windows, septic systems and the other human requirements for life in rural Pennsylvania. Its gone to pot.

I'll try to pitch a better one tomorrow.

Day Sixty Eight

I spoke with a member of the American Concrete Institute today - this is America, they have an Institute for Dog Walkers, so a bunch of people interested in Concrete is pretty normal - who put me in touch with a company that installs pervious concrete; concrete that is very human-friendly and very water-friendly - the rain water drains straight through, meaning that it stops storm damage to buildings and landscaping.

How much does it cost? I have no idea. But hoping that it won't mean flogging what is left of my soul (this is America, Souls go for a good price compared to England - it's an industry rather than an afterthought), we drove to the property late this afternoon to measure the rough area of where the parking area will be installed.

I took the photos, meaning there are no photos of Emily measuring the plot.