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.

Day Sixty Three

Once upon a time in Eastern Pennsylvania...

Emily found these photographs in an old file in the office today. This is the land that the SWH is doing it damndest to remain standing on as winter approaches and the walls remain ever so slightly exposed. The white buildings are long-demolished mushroom houses. Shrooms are big business in PA - just as they are at Glastonbury.

Day Sixty Two

Day Sixty One

Progress. We met an architect and Tom at the building this evening to discuss our interior plan and ideas for how to solve the exterior access issue in the most non-municipal-building manner possible. Fingers double crossed.

And a gorgeous Autumn sunset.

Day Sixty

This lady lives in our current office, but she may need a new home in the next few months. Any takers? A small word of warning - she is over 6ft tall, made of solid wood and weighs a good 200 lbs. Taker picks up. Definitely no free shipping to North London.

Restrictions.

It's peculiar how the advertising industry, in Europe, but more so in America, gets away with shocking falsities without a raised eyebrow, but put a handrail out of place and you can be jailed.

Day Fifty Nine

If I knew how to explain what is going with this project in a quick, concise and coherent way on Day Fifty Nine I would. I wish. I can't.

I could claim that my sudden failure to keep this project up to date is entirely down to Appalling Blog Writers Block, but frankly the day-after-day gaps are because we are now working through how the exterior will work. It's an interesting problem. Uhmm. And Uhmm.

The main, interior, structural decisions are close to finalised, but the exterior is keeping us awake at night.

It may take another week or two before we move forward again with the design and materials for the deck, parking lot and access arrangements.

You've got this far, so the post for Day Sixty will be photos. I would send everyone freshly baked American, autumnal, blueberry muffins if I could, but promising photos on this blog tomorrow is the best I can do this evening.

Day Fifty Six

Day Fifty Five

There's a reason for the missing blog days. Delayed; running late; interruption in service. Hardly Shakespearean, more the kind of rhymeless language that gets burnt into your skull if you're unfortunate enough to have to travel on the London Underground for more than a day.

I'm not sure what the expression is here, across the pond in Pennsylvania, but the physical, material and unavoidable truth is that work on the Small White House has come to a grinding, hit a brick wall, halt.

We need either an architect's or engineer's stamp and seal on our renovation plan before we do any more work on the building. Don't ask. It's enough to say that it's a story that would take considerably longer to tell than if Keith Richards told you what he remembered about his life in the 1970's.

So, this week has been taken up (and it's not even close to being over yet) with meetings and trying to understand the labyrinthine rules, codes and regulations that an "office" has to adhere to in 2010.

I honestly think it would be easier to install a landing strip for a light aircraft.

Emily constructed this scale model today to help us work out our options.

Day Fifty One

Emily's mother is staying with us this weekend, so we took the opportunity to visit the building this morning while the sun was out and the trees are turning orange, red and yellow.

Emily's photographs.

Day Forty Nine

Emily took the photographs today.

It was a sunny, cool, crisp and very autumnal, leaf falling kind of day. A good day to discuss what colour the exterior of the building should be painted. Emily thinks brown to co-ordinate with the chocolate windows. I now think a pure white to let the windows give some definition to the building.

This is like a Billy Wilder movie. Any minute now Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau are going to pop up, with Tony Curtis and Marilyn in the background, and the place will end up being painted shocking pink.

Day Forty Eight

Frankly, not much has happened for the last few days. The weather is appalling and a couple of things are waiting on decisions before we install the windows, walls and doors.

Emily arrived back from London last night and we drove over to the property late this afternoon. Even as we got soaked in the downpour her first reaction was to laugh at the sheer bareness of the wooden skeleton - it took me a minute to realise that the last time she saw the building the renovation had not even started.

I asked Tom today whether we should invest in some sort of covering for the next four or five days to protect the wood and bare foundation from the water - what do I know, it was only a thought - no, was the reply, everything is fine - yes, there are small sections of the foundation that need to be replaced, but aside from that the structure is fine. But it's raining rather heavily I said (it's the continuous intensity that is so strange to me), but Tom said don't worry. So I'll try not to. Well, not that much; at least relative to last month.

When the idea of the cathedral ceiling was first discussed I failed miserably many times at explaining to Emily over Skpye how the finished article would look (my pencil sketches are really that bad). But today, when she walked around and saw the fantastic ceiling lines and exposed beams, and the unique shape we could create, we started to think again about the difference the high, light filled space could make to the environment.

I've no idea what what my dad would say, but I'm pretty sure he's laughing.

Day Forty Six

The windows have arrived.

Double window, external view.

 Single window, internal view, primed to be painted.

Sliding doors.

I was walking through our lounge at 9pm yesterday evening when without any warning there was an almighty CRACK followed immediately by BOOM - so loud I actually ducked - and the skies simply opened up. Torrential. Noah wouldn't have had time to pick up his toothbrush never mind one of everything. Within minutes the paths outside the apartment were deluged.

Because we've now had two near-biblical storms in the space of a couple of weeks (after a long summer of no rain) I had visions of the little place simply saying "Enough is bloody well enough, good night" and imploding.

But even with no walls and no man-made protection, the foundations and all of the wood (external and internal) were remarkably dry. Tough.