A couple of weeks ago I shared a “Flooring Sneak Peek” and four days ago I shared an update on the icehouse flooring focused on “Variable Width Floorboards”. Today I’m pleased to announce that the mixed species ash and elm flooring installation is complete. Eureka!
Many, many months into our homegrown, stump-to-floor journey, the first floor of the icehouse is complete.
You may recall that we decided to mix ash and elm for the icehouse flooring, showcasing a decade and a half worth of lumber that we had harvested, milled, seasoned, dimensioned, and finished on-site. (Source: Variable Width Floorboards)
And the result is simply sensational. Character-rich wood exhibiting a remarkable breadth and depth of color and pattern.
Note that these snapshots were taken shortly after installation was completed. Still ahead? Sanding and sealing. This still anticipated floor finishing will further enhance the natural grain and hues of the ash and elm.
For a change I’m actually at a loss for words. Such a slow, painstaking labor of love, from long ago felled timber to meticulously dimensioned and plained flooring… it’s been a quest!
I shared a “Flooring Sneak Peek” a couple weeks ago when the first two rows of ash and elm flooring had been installed. Now that our homegrown hardwood installation is advancing I’d like to share a few progress photos and explain the choice of variable width floorboards.
Variable Width Ash and Elm Flooring Installation (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Why Variable Width Flooring?
You may recall that we decided to mix ash and elm for the icehouse flooring, showcasing a decade and a half worth of lumber that we had harvested, milled, seasoned, dimensioned, and finished on-site. But I haven’t given much ink to the question of why we opted for variable width flooring instead of uniform sizing (as is the case with the beech flooring in the loft, the garapa paneling in the bathroom, and the T&G nickel gap cladding the rest of the interior walls.)
Installing Variable Width Flooring in Icehouse Vestibule (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
In the photo above the mixed species floorboards, randomly interspersed ash and elm, are clearly different widths. We decided on 4”, 6”, and 8” widths for several reasons. Mixing planks of different widths
contributes an authentic barn appearance (large planks more common in 1800s when icehouse was built)
suggests a more rustic atmosphere
varies visual pattern from the consistent geometry of paneled walls and loft floors
draws attention to the character-rich wood that is a focal point of our rehab story
permitted us to include luxuriously wide floorboards, maximize breadth of widths, and minimize waste
Although we incorporated a bookmatched threshold to visually delineate the vestibule from the main room, the flooring courses have been sized and aligned on both sides of the threshold, visually unifying the floor.
The east-west orientation of the flooring is both practical (perpendicular to the direction of the floor joists) and aesthetically appealing, contributing to the visual flow from entrance-to-entrance, emphasizing the visual axis, and inviting one’s focus toward exterior views beyond the largely glass west wall.
It’s worth noting that significant attention is being given to sequencing the variable width flooring to ensure a harmonious and attractive progression from board-to-board, allowing the color and character variations to enhance the cohesive integration across entire floor.
I can’t wait to see the floor completely installed, sanded, and sealed soon!
It’s a little premature to start celebrating the soon-to-be-completed hardwood flooring in the icehouse. With only the first two rows installed (and a third in the works), a superstitious soul might delay an update in the interest of humility (or outwitting fate). But it’s been so many months in the planning and preparation that I’ve decided to offer you a flooring sneak peek. After all, it looks too spectacular to keep it a secret!
Flooring Sneak Peek (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Do you remember my post about acclimating the ash and elm flooring in the icehouse loft? Well, with plenty of time for the homegrown flooring to acclimate and a rapidly diminishing timeline, Peter guided the transition to flooring as Eric put the finishing touches on the garapa paneling in the bathroom. (Glorious garapa bathroom update tomorrow.)
In the photograph above, you can see the dramatic intersection of new flooring with the bookmatched threshold (beneath the columns.) The flooring courses will be perfectly aligned in the vestibule and in the main room ensuring continuity with a dramatic interstitial transition at the ash “heart” abstraction formed from the mirrored grain (concealed with rosin paper in this photograph) of the bookmatched planks.
Variable Width Flooring (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
We opted for variable width flooring, and we’re intermingling ash and elm. All of this lumber was harvested, milled, seasoned, dimensioned, and finished on-site. In fact, some of this wood was felled almost 15 years ago, so this has been a slooow evolving rehab! So slow, in fact, that until about a year ago, we’d begrudgingly come to accept that the icehouse rehab might never happen. So, finally witnessing progress, even a few boards, is momentous and deeply rewarding.
I will follow up soonish with a more detailed look at how we’re joining the floorboards and a few other details that will make more sense once we’re a little bit deeper into this project. But, suffice to say, we haven’t taken the easy (or quick) way out! But I’m confident that the rewards are around the corner.
Tucked into the folds of the icehouse rehab scope of work some accomplishments stand out more than others. The garapa paneling in the bathroom, for example, has been a long, slooow labor of love many months in the making. Many stages and many hands have shaped this initiative, so anticipation has been building for many months. The column flanked vestibule (and the bookmatched ash threshold upon which they rest) is different. I’ll try to explain why this installation is momentous for me.
Justin Installing Columns (Photo: Geo Davis)
[Let’s start with the] architectural salvage [of]… Greek Revival columns that we salvaged from Rosslyn’s future dining room back in 2006 in the early days or our renovation project. (Source: Architectural Salvage: Repurposed Columns)
Icehouses didn’t historically rely upon columns for structural support, of course. They were utilitarian buildings purpose built to preserve ice cut from lakes, ponds, and rivers during winter to ensure access to ice (and cold storage) during more temperate seasons. Icehouse design was practical. Embellishments like Greek Revival columns would have been impractical, perhaps even frivolous.
But, needless to say, Rosslyn‘s icehouse rehabilitation is not an historic preservation project. It is an adaptive reuse project. It’s heart and soul is relevance to us today. Think dynamic, multipurpose, vibrant. Think simple and minimalist, but beautiful. Think inviting. Think whimsical. Straddling an unlikely divide — home office (though I prefer the connotations of study/studio) and recreation/entertaining space — the icehouse we’re conjuring into existence will blend productivity, creativity, wellness, and the largely outdoor lifestyle that we favor.
Why, you might well ask, would we need two imposing columns inside the diminutive icehouse? While the question is reasonable, perhaps *need* is not the most appropriate evaluation. After all, adaptive reuse of a utility building originally constructed to fulfill a highly specific (and outdated) function obviously doesn’t *need* handsome embellishments for structural support. And yet the opportunity to re-integrate these historic Rosslyn elements into an otherwise utilitarian barn has presented a whimsical challenge that at some level echoes the unlikely marriage of work space and recreation hub we’re imagining into existence with this newest rehab project. (Source: Re-tuning Columns)
Just as fusing work and play in a single space might initially seem incompatible, designing a column flanked vestibule inside an icehouse might evoke concerns of incongruity. Fair concern. And final judgment will be for you to make once we reach completion.
Peter in Column Flanked Vestibule (Photo: Geo Davis)
And so as we stride toward completions of the icehouse rehabilitation I draw your attention not only to the finally repurposed columns that once supported a beam in Rosslyn’s dining room. Now let your eyes drift down to the floor, to the bookmatched ash threshold crafted byPeter from some of our homegrown stump-to-lumber hardwood. Yes, it’s breathtaking. And, yes, the charactered grain forms a large stylized heart (and an enormous grin!)
Columns, threshold, and header are finally coalescing in a long envisioned “spatial transition from the more intimate entrance and coffee bar into the loftier main room”. Witnessing this accomplishment after so many months of planning and anticipation filled me with joy. It affirmed hopes and plans, it rewarded a risky design decision, defining and framing two functionally distinct spaces without losing the transparency and porosity. It instills a playful unlikelihood in an otherwise mostly predictable environment. It filters light dramatically, adding sensuous silhouettes to an otherwise geometric linearity. It delineates without restricting. It is a suggestion. It is poetry.
And, although there’s more work to be completed before a final assessment is justified, I am immensely pleased with the column flanked vestibule. Thank you, Peter. Thank you, Justin.
Finding freudenfreude while upcycling lumber (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Last week Tony, Hroth, and Pam all shared overlapping updates on garapa, elm, and ash upcycling progress. Virtually concurrent texts and photos sent by all three. Two of them spoke with me by telephone. All of them sounded 100% in sync. No griping. No grumbling. No blaming. And no complaints, frustrations, or regrets. They were uniformly upbeat and optimistic. They were proud of their own accomplishments, and they were proud of one another. I suspect that they’re finding freudenfreude.
Freud and who?!?!
From Schadenfreude to Freudenfreude
You’re probably already familiar with the idea of schadenfreude, but maybe freudenfreude is new to you. Until recently it was new to me.
Lately the idea has experienced an uptick in usage, likely driven by Brené Brown’s Atlas of the Heart. A book review by Jon M. Sweeney orients us.
Schadenfreude “simply means pleasure or joy derived from someone else’s suffering or misfortune.” And Freudenfreude is its opposite; “it’s the enjoyment of another’s success. It’s also a subset of empathy.” — Jon M. Sweeney (Source: Atlas of the Heart by Brené Brown | Review | Spirituality & Practice)
Too often envy (or some similarly all-too-human but lamentable feeling) rumbles to life deep within our psyche when we witness a colleague or friend succeeding, especially if we’re not feeling completely satisfied with our own performance, life, etc. But what if we could alchemize envy into empathy? What if we could train ourselves to feel happiness, satisfaction, and even pride when someone else thrives? We can.
Finding pleasure in another person’s good fortune is what social scientists call “freudenfreude,” a term (inspired by the German word for “joy”) that describes the bliss we feel when someone else succeeds, even if it doesn’t directly involve us. Freudenfreude is like social glue, said Catherine Chambliss, a professor of psychology at Ursinus College. It makes relationships “more intimate and enjoyable.”
Erika Weisz, an empathy researcher and postdoctoral fellow in psychology at Harvard University, said the feeling closely resembles positive empathy — the ability to experience someone else’s positive emotions. A small 2021 study examined positive empathy’s role in daily life and found that it propelled kind acts, like helping others. Sharing in someone else’s joy can also foster resilience, improve life satisfaction and help people cooperate during a conflict. (Source: Juli Fraga, What is Freudenfreude? And How to Cultivate It. – The New York Times)
I’m especially drawn to the possibility of freudenfreude as “social glue” that cultivates collegiality through further kindness, resilience, and cooperation. Actually, collegiality is too limiting, since family and friendship certainly prosper in the presence of this joy-of-joy phenomenon.
Cultivating a sense of freudenfreude ― or letting yourself feel vicarious joy for others ― could benefit your friendships greatly… (Source: Brittany Wong, Huffpost)
But what about the inevitable flush of envy or resentment?
Try to fight back a gnawing, unexpected feeling of jealousy.
[…]
Comparison is a big part of how our brain judges reality, but we can learn to use this process more productively, especially within our friendships.
“Instead of feeling crushed when we discover others have arrived at some desirable destination first, we can be grateful they helped to define the path for us,” Catherine Chambliss said. (Source: Brittany Wong, Huffpost)
Mistakes as stepping stones! (Photo: Geo Davis)
Some good news: what goes around comes around. Finding freudenfreude isn’t only a matter of investing yourself in the happiness and success of your peers, it’s also an opportunity to thrive yourself.
Freudenfreude is a two-way street! So be sure to find ways to include your friends in your successes and wins, too.
“When you have a big success, it’s important to embrace your own friends, to honour their value in your life; to recognise their insights and their support,” Shaw [Glenda D. Shaw, author of Better You, Better Friends] says. “By acknowledging your friends, you include them in your success, and that’s what this is all about.” (Source: Brittany Wong, Huffpost)
Cultivating freudenfreude amongst friends and colleagues is not only contributing to the “social glue” of the group, it’s actually an act of community building and collective accomplishment. None of us grow and prosper and succeed in a vacuum. We are intrinsically interdependent. And despite the occasionally onerous responsibilities that come with embracing this reality, the rewards are ample, not just for one, but for all.
“When we feel happy for others, their joy becomes our joy,” said psychologist Marisa Franco, author of “Platonic: How the Science of Attachment Can Help You Make — and Keep — Friends.” To that end, freudenfreude encourages us to look at success as a community achievement.
“No one gets to the top alone, and when we elevate others, we’re often carried up with them,” Dr. Anhalt said. (Source: The New York Times)
Isn’t this just good teamwork and empathy? I suppose if you’re uncomfortable embracing and/or adopting this clunky German-ish (more on that in a moment), then you can cobble together your own equivalent. The important takeaway, as far as I’m concerned, is that noticing and genuinely appreciating and acknowledging and even celebrating your friends’ and teammates’ victories will benefit the entire cohort and initiative.
Experiencing more freudenfreude doesn’t mean you’ll never root against a villain again, but being able to reach for happiness is inherently beneficial. “As delicious as it is to delight in our enemy’s defeats, celebrating our friends’ success — big and small — helps us all triumph in the end,” Dr. Chambliss said. (Source: The New York Times)
Although it’s easy, convenient, and sometimes *really* tempting to cast aspersion and blame less-than-perfect progress on others, there’s no benefit. But there is abundant detriment. If, however, the group can shift their impetus to finding freudenfreude—even when there are setbacks and/or problems emerge—then the path to successive success isn’t far off.
Tony’s Timesheet: sizing, planing, sizing, planing… (Photo of invoice from Tony Foster)
Finding Freudenfreude & Fellowship
Let’s get back to Tony, Hroth, and Pam.
Long story short, Tony’s day-after-day re-milling (sizing and planing) was paying off. He’s been upcycling old, deconstructed garapa decking for adaptive reuse in the icehouse as wall paneling. And he’s been planing rough cut elm and ash lumber that was harvested, milled, and and dried on site over the years, ensuring a uniform thickness so that we can upcycle this homegrown timber (a byproduct of rehabilitating Rosslyn’s fields and forest) into flooring for the icehouse.
Finding freudenfreude while upcycling lumber (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Early on Hroth had expressed some misgivings about the quality of the results, the speed of progress, etc. I’m sure Tony probably could have expressed his own aggravations, but he didn’t, nor did I encourage him to. Susan reminds me that I’m an exacting taskmaster, and I have no doubt that my own persnickety perfectionism was amping up expectations and stress throughout the team unnecessarily. Hroth had been endeavoring to mentor Tony, and Tony was giving it his all. The garapa is hard as blazes, and after years of use on the deck, the material has inherited some especially challenging characteristics that gradually had to be figured into the production process by trial and error. And much of the ash and elm had checked, twisted, and cupped while in storage. Reading each board and troubleshooting the best process to transform it into beautiful finish lumber was a challenging proposition to say the least. Further difficulties arose from two different types of planers, and a job site table saw less-than-ideally suited to the task. Add to the mix Pam overseeing Tony and Hroth, endeavoring to ensure tip-top quality control, while Hroth concurrently was juggling myriad other responsibilities in the icehouse. And, if that’s not enough ingredients to cook up a stressful stew, add yours truly to the mix, located just over two thousand miles away in Santa Fe. Absent geographically, but participating virtually via phone, text, email, Trello, etc., my inputs were likely considerably more than all three of them would likely have preferred. So, needless to say, there were inevitably some growing pains.
Finding freudenfreude while upcycling lumber (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Strains and setbacks were initially overshadowing progress. It was starting to feel like the proverbial pressure cooker.
But then things started to coalesce. Tony found his groove. Hroth praised Tony. Pam praised Hroth and Tony. And all three let me know how pleased they were with the evolving results and dynamics. Wait… what just happened?!?!
It’s anybody’s guess, but I’d like to think that the team is finding freudenfreude. It’s not the first time. I’ve witnessed it repeatedly. Last summer during the deck rebuild, there were multiple stretches where the team coalesced so harmoniously and so productively that the progress and breathtaking results almost seemed an inevitable byproduct of the chemistry. This fall and winter have demonstrated several similar stretches, but one that stands out was the icehouse foundation collaboration when two teams that had been working on separate, unrelated projects came together and performed skillfully.
So, what’s the takeaway? Shun schadenfreude, and find freudenfreude!
Finding freudenfreude while upcycling lumber (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Afterward
Until now I hope that I’ve elevated the prospect of finding freudenfreude—of authentically cultivating and fertilizing freudenfreude—in order to incubate collegiality while growing the collaborative capacity of the cohort. But, as a linguist, I’m unable to bookend this reflection without acknowledging that the word in question, freudenfreude, is manufactured and imperfect. And while I don’t think this diminishes the concept, it’s worth taking a quick dive into a recent critic’s perspective.
There’s only one problem…: “freudenfreude” may be known in sociological jargon (and similar in meaning to the Sanskrit-derived mudita), but it’s not a German word. On both a linguistic level and, one might argue, a cultural one, freudenfreude is Scheiße. — Rebecca Schuman (Source: Source: Slate)
If Ms. Schuman’s not only stolen your bliss but bewildered you with that last phrase, Scheiße is an alternative form of scheisse (which is German for “shit”). Feeling a bit bruised? Perhaps Lady Gaga’s “Scheiße” can fix that for you…
And if that’s not disorienting enough, Ms. Schuman follow’s that blow with another.
None of this… stops “freudenfreude” from sounding downright ridiculous to Germans — or, even better, salacious. One German professor… pointed out that Freudenfreude sounds a lot like an existing compound noun: Freudenhaus. Literally “house of pleasure,” this is actually a word for brothel. — Rebecca Schuman (Source: Source: Slate)
So, there you have it. If you’re in Ms. Schuman’s camp, you may well prefer another way of articulating this positive, beneficial, proactive force for good. No worries. But if you’re less scatologically inclined and comfortable considering a “house of pleasure” to be an unnecessary exit ramp for the present contemplation, then I encourage you to go about finding freudenfreude. Hope it turns out well for you.
Finding freudenfreude while upcycling lumber (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Adaptive reuse has become an increasingly important principle for me in recent years. And one of the most ambitious (yet most critical) objectives for the icehouse rehabilitation project is repurposing surplus building materials and existing architectural salvage from previous projects; upcycling decking debris and other deconstruction byproducts from sixteen years of remodels and rehabs; and miscellaneous materials reclaimed from Rosslyn’s buildings, fields, and forests (such as a carriage barn full of cured ash, elm, and other lumber that was harvested, milled, and dried on-site.)
Hroth is continuing to experiment with the garapa decking we salvaged from our summer 2022 deck rebuild. I’m hoping to repurpose this honey toned Brazilian hardwood as paneling in the icehouse bathroom. Hroth has planed these boards down to 5/8” and the lumber is beginning to look really good. Maybe 1/2” will be perfect?
https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cj7Igsig6Uo/
In addition to milling off the grooved edges (originally used for securing hidden fasteners to deck substructure) and planing the boards down, the next step will be choosing a suitable joint between boards. I’ll share updates as we continue to explore upcycling the old garapa decking.
What the Heck is Upcycling?
Nowadays we throw around words like upcycling, recycling, repurposing, adaptive reuse, etc. without stopping to ensure that we all understand what these words even mean. Upcycle That, a (@upcyclethat), a website launched in 2012 to showcase upcycling ideas and inspiration, offers this clear and concise way to think of upcycling.
Upcycling is taking something that’s considered waste and repurposing it. The upcycled item often becomes more functional or beautiful than what it previously was. That’s why it’s called upcycling, because the value of the item is increased! (Source: Upcycle That)
Junk, debris, byproducts, and leftovers reimagined and transformed into valuable new items. That’s upcycling.
If this sounds a little bit like recycling, let’s turn to the Upcycle That team again for help clarifying the difference between upcycling and recycling.
Recycling and Upcycling have different processes. In the recycling process, items are broken down to be reused. Paper is shredded and turned into pulp, plastic is shredded and melted into pellets, glass is smashed and melted to be recast. This downcycling is an essential step in the recycling process, but it does degrade the value of the materials.
Upcycling is a creative process where waste is looked at as a resource. Materials are reused in a clever new way, giving them a second life and function. Think of a pallet coffee table. Upcycling transforms the pallet into a lovely piece of furniture. (Source: Upcycle That)
I would add to the downside of degrading the source materials another frequent cost of recycling: energy consumption. Not only can the act of recycling gradually diminish the quality of the paper, glass, plastic, etc., but the process(es) by which the down cycling takes place almost always consumes energy. By sidestepping the down cycle-step in recycling, upcycling reduces the need for energy consumption.
Energy Use to Upcycle Garapa
As a quick followup to this last question of energy consumption during the downcycling vs. upcycling processes, I should note that transforming our old garapa decking into a finish material for the icehouse bathhouse is not without its own energy inputs. As you can see in the video above, these boards are being passed through a wood planer and they’ve already had their sides trimmed on a table saw. So, electricity has been an inevitable input in order to transform what on another project might have been considered demolition debris into what on our icehouse project will become beautiful bathroom paneling.
