Freshly milled, locally sourced dimensional 2×6 lumber matches the existing interior framing in the icehouse. In keeping with the historic preservation/rehabilitation objectives of this project we’ve eschewed standard factory-finished dimensional pine for locally harvested and milled hemlock to complement the same wood —albeit many generations removed — used to frame the icehouse back in the late 1800s.
Local Lumber Unloaded (Source: Hroth Ottosen)
Thanks, Team, for wrapping up a long day (and long week!) by unloading and stacking this new material.
In addition to the upsides of purchasing hyperlocal building supplies (supporting local business, minimizing carbon footprint, etc.) historic rehab challenges us to maintain consistent and cohesive construction when viable. This rough cut lumber provided by a local sawyer is old school in the best of ways. And it’s nominal and actual dimensions are identical!
https://www.instagram.com/reel/CkIEfslgp0f/
The omnipresent color this time of years, especially the brilliant fall foliage finds its way into every photo. In this one, a short video of Tony leaf blowing and aerating at the same time brilliant Yellowstone oranges steals the performance. Double duty: Explanation forthcoming. Soon. Maybe…
Rendering for Icehouse Rehabilitation, West Elevation (Source: Tiho Dimitrov)
Hat tip to Tiho Dimitrov for yet another whimsical rendering of the soon-to-be icehouse v2.0, this time imagining how it will appear (mas o menos, as we say in Santa Fe) from the west. In other words, this is what you’ll see as you come in from harvesting dinner in the garden!
Because this view is hidden from passersby we were able to modify the facade to showcase Rosslyn’s magnificent sunset views. The afternoon and early evening will be stunning from this hidden oasis.
Icehouse, West Elevation, November 11, 2023 (Source: Eric Crowningshield)
Progress: Icehouse West Elevation
As of yesterday this is what the icehouse’s west elevation looks like. Lots of structural work has been taking place in the interior to make these visible changes possible. I’ll post an update on those soon, but for today just a short sweet look at where we’re headed and where we are today. Exciting times! Thanks for joining us during this adaptive reuse adventure.
A new perspective is emerging as Hroth frames my future office window (from the icehouse loft). Looking east (actually southeast in this photo), this will be my morning view. Panning to the left 10 to 15° the view will be filtered through the enormous American Linden (basswood) tree and across the upper lawn, through the ancient ginkgo tree and across the front lawn to Lake Champlain.
If this morning view seems a significant spoil, looking west (featuring prominently in yesterday’s blog post) will offer a similarly breathtaking afternoon view. Across gardens, orchard, meadows, and woods the end-of-day drama will be captivating as sun settles into Boquet Mountain and the Adirondacks beyond.
It’s worth noting that there’s a dash of creative mischief in this snapshot. I’ve described it as the “morning view” from my loft office, but the butterscotch light bathing Rosslyn and the lawn in this image is unmistakably “afternoon light” emanating from the western sky as the sunset nears. An amalgam of morning perspective and late afternoon lighting, almost (but not quite) too good to be true.
Much thought has gone into framing the views in this small building. Although historic rehabilitation and adaptive reuse are the defining DNA in the icehouse project, the challenges and restrictions that inevitably arise with an historic property in an historic district allow ample opportunity for aesthetic fine tuning that will ultimately contribute to the lifestyle rewards when the conversion and renovation are complete.
These little glimmers of the future fuel my enthusiasm, and as I remind our dogs, anticipation is half the fun!
We lost our last Labrador Retriever, Griffin, in the months preceding the pandemic. Only a few months later we lost Susan’s mother, the best mother-in-law I could have conjured from the depths of my imagination.
And then we plunged into the pandemic.
In those early weeks that bled into a month, then two months, we decided to follow through with a breeder with whom we’d placed a deposit months earlier. There’s more to this chapter of the story, but for present purposes let’s fast forward to the spirited fluff all that arrived in the late spring. Named Carley in memory of Susan’s late parents (Carter and Shirley), our pandemic puppy’s middle name (embraced enthusiastically by me, and begrudgingly by my bride), Corona, remains a constant reminder that a pandemic that tried to grind us all down still offered some glimmers of gold. This gentle Lab filled some gaping holes in our family with enough love to heal us. Queen Carley!
The photograph at the top of this post shows Carley (left) and Mae (right), a 10-month old service dog that Susan is helping train and acclimate to house life. The dogs are taking a break on Thanksgiving, rebooting for the arrival of dinner guests.
Two weeks later, on June 14, Carley welcomed me home after a mid-pandemic road trip. Perfect homecoming after two surreal weeks of COVID-19 dodging logistics.
And last weekend, with even more snow, our small family enjoyed some preseason skinning and skiing at about 10-11k feet above sea level on a spectacular sunny Sunday.
Given that these Rosslyn Redux posts can flit around achronologically (poetic license, humor me?), and given that we’ve had three yellow Labs in succession — Tasha, Griffin, and Carley — I’d try to better clarify which dog is which. Time for some overdue editing!
Ever since I asked (and answered) the question “Why are my cukes turning yellow/orange?” I’ve been inundated with inquiries about orange cucumbers. Are yellow-oranging cucumbers safe to eat? Do they taste bitter? How can I use orangey-yellow cukes?
While I’m flattered with your confidence that I can demystify your quandaries related to orange cucumbers, it’s time to go full disclosure. My gardening experience and perspective are super subjective. My actual *scientific* expertise is negligible. And my vegetable garden triumphs and fiascos are best regarded as anecdotal.
Orange Cucumbers Riff
Caveat emptor aside, I hope you’ll join me for a rambunctious riff on discolored cukes with no meaningful advice and no implied guarantees. After all, when knowledge is slim, lean into poetry! (Of course, your mileage may vary.)
As green thumb inquiries for vine ripe tomatoes and full headed lettuce ease then ebb, fall fervor flows to colorful corn kernels and pompadoured pumpkins with snaggletooth grins. I’m tempted to revisit the midsummer enigma of cucumber cukes, trellised or sprawling, lush canopied and micro-spiked, round and chubby-stubby or curly-attenuated, and ripe-ripening into pickles or gazpacho or sandwich. Knifing the crisp, crunchy flesh on the bias, or end-to-end slivered, speared, crescent mooned, this orange cucumber is bellicose and celestial, a bursting chrysanthemum, a blazing headdress, a sun dried citrus slice, a September sunrise smeared across a mountain muddled horizon. The oranging skin is a warning: I’m overripe, too mature, untasty, even bitter, and I’m 100% unfit for human consumption.
Troubleshooting Cuke Coloration
If freestyle riffing sans constructive takeaways isn’t what you need at the moment (i.e. a garden-full of cukes ready for mini jack-o’-lanterns), then you might prefer my earlier post:
Recently the enormous fruit are discoloring from green to yellow to orange before we can eat them. Here’s the reason why.
Icehouse and future “game room” in autumn 2006 (Source: Geo Davis)
Game Room v1.0
When we bought Rosslyn in 2006, the icehouse was on its last legs. The inspector advised us to abandon it (or rebuild it from scratch). Although the actual written document he submitted once the inspection was complete offered a less terminal outlook for the then-century old outbuilding, our in person dialogue on the morning of our inspection was anything but encouraging. So when I told my bride that I wanted to convert the icehouse into the “men’s club”, she smiled and agreed that the proposed use — as a party barn — seemed appropriate (but the moniker would not be adopted). I envisioned a rustic open interior which could serve as a game room with pool table, dartboard, etc. And it could double as my writing retreat. I felt more confident than the inspector that we would be able to salvage the structure, prevent the roof from caving in, and stabilize the north and south walls from further corn-cribbing.
From structural intervention to “weathering-in” the structure, I envisioned a leisurely rolling year-to-year DIY project.
In the fall of 2006 we gutted the structure, removing the interior wall paneling, emptied out many loads of sawdust (originally used for insulating the icehouse), and removed the ceiling / loft floor, and the interior walls separating the main ice storage room from the anteroom and “refrigerated” pantry. Here’s a glimpse into initial phase of progress.
We were relieved to discover that the structural rot was in fact considerably less severe than originally anticipated. Our spirits soared. I could imagine friends gathered around a fireplace rehashing the sail, cross-country ski, or hike we’d just enjoyed. And I could imagine books and papers stacked over a pool table, poem drafts strewn across the floor, sketches pinned to the wall,… Frankly it was pretty easy to conjure up a perfect outbuilding retreat to house some of the best parts of our new Essex life.
This daydream resurfaced often in those early months. A mental getaway from the elegant domesticity of the house we were in the thralls of rehabilitating. I’m not sure why the term “game room” popped up initially, nor why it stuck. In reality, the vision was part studio-office and part playhouse for adults. A pool table. A dart board. Definitely a fireplace. Comfortable. Unprecious. Unbuttoned.
N.B. Before fast forwarding to the almost second incarnation of Rosslyn’s game room, you might want to check out a couple of brighter photos of the icehouse in the autumn of 2006 during the early rehabilitation process.
Game Room v2.0
As rehabilitating the main house (and the boathouse) consumed more and more of our time, focus, and resources, the icehouse project slid down the priority slope. Postponed. Postponed again…
As rehab’ing the icehouse, repurposing it really, from an outbuilding that had served the previous owner as a woodshed, into a more relevant utility building for us, shifted from punch list to pipe dream, it left some desires unfulfilled. Given the formality of Rosslyn’s living room, we still wanted an informal “hang out” space. What if the room underneath the living loom, excavated painstakingly in the first phase of our project could become the game room? Bench seating around the perimeter, a pool table in the center, and only a flight of stairs away from the bar! It seemed like a good workaround.
In 2007 we made that decision to conceive of the new found space beneath the living room as our future game room.Here are some early photographs of that process.
The game room, located underneath Rosslyn’s living room, never really lived up to it’s name. Instead it became a fitness room!
The game room, located underneath Rosslyn’s living room, never really lived up to it’s name. Instead it became a fitness room!
The game room, located underneath Rosslyn’s living room, never really lived up to it’s name. Instead it became a fitness room!
The game room, located underneath Rosslyn’s living room, never really lived up to it’s name. Instead it became a fitness room!
The game room, located underneath Rosslyn’s living room, never really lived up to it’s name. Instead it became a fitness room!
The game room, located underneath Rosslyn’s living room, never really lived up to it’s name. Instead it became a fitness room!
Susan sitting with Ed Conlin in the game room, located underneath Rosslyn’s living room, never really lived up to it’s name. Instead it became a fitness room!
The game room, located underneath Rosslyn’s living room, never really lived up to it’s name. Instead it became a fitness room!
The game room, located underneath Rosslyn’s living room, never really lived up to it’s name. Instead it became a fitness room!
I will revisit this unique room elsewhere, including photographs throughout the rehab cycle. It’ll blow your mind. (Hint: this was originally a crawl space with literal drifts of mold so horrifying that it nearly killed our purchase!) For now I’ll just conclude this post focused on Rosslyn’s ever-future game room. That’s right. It didn’t happen here either. Another transition in our preferences, priorities, etc. resulted in adapting the game room — well before acquisition of pool table or hanging of dart board — into a fitness room. So, long story short? We have no game room. Yet.
More good news on Rosslyn’s boathouse gangway repair project: redecking is complete. The necessary mechanical adjustments were made, sleeper joists were properly flashed, decking was consistently spaced, the correct number of posts were installed in a structurally sound manner, and the redecking was actually completed. Eureka!
It’s a pleasure and a privilege to celebrate yet another accomplishment by Peter Vaiciulis and Sia Supi Havosi. After the previous team’s parade of missteps and setbacks last fall, winter, and spring, it’s been a tremendous relief to be able to share positive progress report after positive progress report this fall. Peter and Supi have proceeded thoughtfully and responsibly ever since they joined us. They’re organized and methodical, detail oriented and communicative. And their expertise is enabling a remarkable recovery from a lost year and rescuing this historic landmark from its precarious status last spring.
Let’s wrap up with a ultra short mashup of the final phase of redecking.
https://www.instagram.com/reel/Clur5p3A4Oo/
Thank you, R.P. Murphy and Peter Vaiciulis, for your photo documentation!
Icehouse site work is underway! Bob Kaleita, Phil Valachovic, and Scott Blanchard made great progress this perfect October Thursday, carving out new grade for deck and landscaping.
Icehouse Site Work Begins (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Per an anonymous member of our team this morning, “Scott Blanchard is in the excavator… He’s one hell of an operator!”
Icehouse Site Work Begins (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
After days of perfect dry conditions, Mother Nature threw a curve ball. Rainy conditions overnight saturated the ground and contributed to muddy, less-than-ideal excavation circumstances but the team persevered.
Icehouse Site Work Begins (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Because much of this site is an old clay tennis court, dating back to at least Sherwood Inn days if not earlier (perhaps Hyde Gate?) The surface of the court long ago was scraped and allowed to grow thick with grass, but the resulting ground consists of a lot of class which becomes sticky and exceedingly messy after a rainstorm.
Icehouse Site Work Begins (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
It was somewhat slow going, ensuring that appropriate cuts were made for transition from upper lawn (a future volleyball, badminton, and croquet court) to lower lawn where the deck deck will be built. But the plan is in focus, major progress was made, and tomorrow we’ll finish up the week with significant accomplishments behind us.
Icehouse Site Work Begins (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
In the photo above, the perspective of the icehouse’s western facade is for the first time in a looong time (about a century?) rising yo it’s appropriate stature above grade. The fill that was added / altered many decades ago to accommodate a tennis court is now partially removed, and the well proportioned icehouse has begun to emerge from the semi-entered conditions it endured for far too long.
What a week! It’s been another productive stretch in the early phase of Rosslyn’s icehouse rehabilitation project. While site work ramped up outside, sculpting existing conditions into the vision percolating in my head, the icehouse’s interior underwent final preparations for structural steel, forming, and concrete. And, as of today, we are ready for rebar.
Icehouse Ready for Rebar (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
In the photo above Hroth and Peter are double checking footer depths and dimensions, checking levels with the laser, and putting the finishing touches on the dirt work in order to begin fabricating our rebar “cages”, etc.
Icehouse Ready for Rebar (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Resembling an archeological site with pits dug deep into the old icehouse floor, the trenches and holes are actually “forms” for integrated concrete footers, curbs, and stepped slab.
Icehouse Ready for Rebar (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Next, steel rebar and remesh will be cut, shaped, and structured per instructions of the engineer to meet or exceed structural demands of the rebuild.
Icehouse Ready for Rebar (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Once concrete is poured and cured, the substructure (consisting of new concrete footers, curb, and slab integrated into old stone foundation) will provide stability upon which to frame the new interior. The resulting monolithic foundation will enable us to confidently proceed with building the next first floor.
Icehouse Ready for Rebar (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Now that we’re ready for rebar I’ll add a new post when cages start to fill in the footer holes…
Another important accomplishment this week: helical piers were installed for the new icehouse decks. I was particularly impressed with the efficiency and precision of the helical pier installation by Bob Kaleita, Phil Valachovic, and Sonny Valachovic. Skillful operation!
Helical Piers Ready for Installation (Photo: Hroth Ottosen)
Earth Anchoring with Helical Piers
I learned about “earth anchoring” with helical piers (aka helical piles) some years ago when looking at real estate in Santa Fe. This technique for securing (and re-securing if settling, erosion, etc. has undermined structural integrity) foundations, footings, etc. with *giant corkscrews* piqued my interest. I’ll publish a follow-up post, explaining in greater detail the concept and utility, as well as why we opted for this alternative to precast or poured concrete footings. For now let’s just appreciate the significant leap forward!
Helical Pier Installation (Photo: Hroth Ottosen)
Video Mashup of Helical Pier Installation
If you prefer a quick zip through, then this video mashup is for you.
FYI, it’s not ALL fun and games at Rosslyn. Sometimes there’s tough work to do! Like root wrangling, for example… But there’s no reason work shouldn’t also be fun, right?
Do you remember that whopper of a storm this summer, the microburst that blasted Rosslyn, snapping limbs and uprooting trees? At last we’ve de-stumped and extracted the root balls.
An excavator muscled the massive root systems out of the earth. And, in the case of the video above, extraction involved breaking the stump and root ball into smaller, more manageable debris.
But the towering sugar maple that was destroyed by the microburst didn’t yield to mechanical muscle quite as readily. And so Bob (driving the tractor) and Hroth (root wrangling) applied the rodeo treatment!
I share with you a bald eagle omen, courtesy of my mother.
Bald eagle by your boat house. Saw this elegant creature as I went to massage and he was still there when I returned. May be a sign of something good? ~ Melissa Davis
Rosslyn’s boathouse is often frequented by bald eagles, hawks, and other raptors, but I’m choosing to embrace my mother’s most recent sighting as an important symbol.
When an eagle appears, you are on notice to be courageous and stretch your limits. Do not accept the status quo, but rather reach higher and become more than you believe you are capable of. Look at things from a new, higher perspective. Be patient with the present; know that the future holds possibilities that you may not yet be able to see. You are about to take flight. (Source: pure-spirit.com)
I’m digging deep, summoning courage, and shifting my perspective!
From eagle we learn that life looks different from an aerial perspective. We need to take a new view on the challenges in our lives. If we don’t readily find solutions it may be because our vision is too limited to see the solutions that are so glaringly obvious. ~ Ina Woolcott (Source: Shamanic Journey)
It’s time for a fresh vantage point — personally, professionally, politically — so I’m grateful for this bald eagle omen. I’m reminded that my vision may indeed have become too limited, too myopic. Time to shift and amplify the view. Time to prepare for flight!
