Once upon a time—starting in about 2005 or 2006 and concluding about a dozen years ago, if memory serves—I was on the board on Historic Essex (formerly Essex Community Heritage Organization, ECHO). Todd Goff, a fellow director, Essex neighbor, and friend, took it upon himself to correct me, differentiating for me “historic preservation” from ” from “historic rehabilitation”. I no longer remember the context, but I expect I was updating him in 2006 or 2007 on our progress in the early days of our mushrooming renovation project. Armed with a keen mind (and master’s degree in preservation), I respected Todd’s knowledge and appreciated his clarification. I expect that I used renovation, restoration, and preservation interchangeably in those days, never stopping to consider the profoundly important differences.
I most likely had not used the historic rehabilitation at all prior to that point, and learning more about it opened my eyes, ignited my curiosity, and kindled my imagination. More on fanciful end of the spectrum anon. For now I’d like to delineate for you historic rehabilitation as I understand it. (And please note that if you, like Mr. Goff, are able to advance my instruction, please advise in the comments below. Thanks in advance.)
J.C. Coatsworth Residence (Antique Postcard)
Preservation vs. Rehabilitation
Less stringent than historic preservation, historic rehabilitation emphasizes maintaining the historic integrity of architectural heritage while balancing its relevant functionality for modern day use.
Both preservation and rehabilitation are sensitive to the imperative of preserving the historic character and value of a resource, but modern functionality weighs more heavily in the case or the latter. When an architecturally significant resource is abandoned or in advanced stages of disrepair, both approaches are viable means of saving and revitalizing the resource. Likewise, both can be complex, painstaking, lengthy, and expensive processes. In fact, sometimes the scope exceeds the means and/or justification for revitalizing a property, and all too often valuable architectural and cultural heritage is indefinitely neglected and eventually lost.
The potential for integrating modern functionality (and therefor relevance) into an historic property can be the difference between its recovery or it neglect.
Sherwood Inn (Antique Postcard)
Defining Historic Rehabilitation
Rehabilitation is defined as the act or process of making possible a compatible use for a property through repair, alterations, and additions while preserving those portions or features which convey its historical, cultural, or architectural values. (Source: U.S. National Park Service)
In short, historic rehabilitation (rehab) is the process by which an historic property is returned to a state of usefulness while maintaining its historic character. Starting out with a comprehensive analysis of the cultural and/or architectural heritage ensures a solid foundation for planning the entire rehabilitation process. Drawing upon the collaborative expertise of diverse professionals, rehab must be tailored to the unique character and historic significance. Ranging from minimalist repairs and overdue maintenance to more involved intervention such as modification to ensure structural integrity, installation and/or removal of windows and doors, and even construction of non-historic additions.
Boathouse with Coal Bin on Pier (Antique Postcard)
Rosslyn’s Historic Rehabilitation
From those early days as Rosslyn’s newest stewards, when Susan and I were still running on dreams, optimism, and a totally unrealistic sense for the magnitude of the project we’d undertaken, our twin objectives were to preserve the immense heritage we’d inherited while ensuring that our new home was a functional, energy efficient modern home attuned to our needs and lifestyle. Todd helped me understand that what we were undertaking was indeed an historic rehabilitation, and that paradigm shift that he initiated catalyzed a shift in my thinking not only about our revitalization of these four historic buildings, but indeed the entire ethos underlying our pivot from Manhattan to Essex and own own personal reawakening. But I’m getting ahead of myself…
Boathouse with Ruins of Pier in Foreground (Antique Postcard)
Consider that word parade fair warning for where I’m headed. From dovetails to team dynamics, in the twinkling of an eye. At least, that was my plan in revisiting a flood of field notes. Instead my errand evolved into a meandering meditation on admittedly abstract, fairly freestyle associations between durable joinery and team dynamics.
So, if you’re the A-to-Z git-r-done type, this is a good post for you to skip. Probably. Unless you’ve already burned a cord of calories and you’re surfing a dopamine-endorphin wave, in which case this might be just the departure from your daily that the doctor ordered. (The proverbial doctor, not the real doctor.)
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s rewind a few weeks to my sudden and unanticipated decampment from Santa Fe to Essex.
Durable Joinery (Photo: Geo Davis)
Icehouse Intermission
Mission interrupted, more to the point. Icehouse rehab back on ice for a week or two while we regrouped and remapped and, eventually, rebooted. Upon approaching Rosslyn by water — steely skies and surreal snowflakes fluttering occasionally (as if the special effects team had been downsized), an almost empty ferry, a mostly hibernating hamlet hunkering lakeside — mixed emotions roiled within me.
There was a wellspring of anticipation upon returning to inspect firsthand the team’s progress on the icehouse rehab, boathouse gangway, and some painting and tiling maintenance inside our home. There was also the poignant pique of a visit precipitated not by plan or passion but by infelicitous necessity. (Source: Snow Falling on Homecoming)
Three weeks ago this past Wednesday. The following days were invigorating. Encouraging.
By in large, this impromptu return to Rosslyn has been profoundly positive…
[“On the Level“, a poem drafted during my visit, reflects] the reassurance that I’m encountering, the confidence and conviction that are flowing back in after ebbing…
[…]
On the level, there’s plenty of optimism, despite inevitable setbacks. (Source: On the Level)
The progress was grounding, familiarizing myself physically with what I’d been living virtually, witnessing in person the dramatic transformation of this long-held vision into tangible, well built, inviting spaces and floors and walls and stairs and windows and doors. The volumes and the vessel that contains them, defines them, that had been gestating for almost two decades, was at last becoming believable due to the collaboration and teamwork of many.
Durable Joinery (Photo: Geo Davis)
A furtive foray into the curious coalescence of still tender fractures and ruptures that drew me back to Rosslyn (and that continue to disclose themselves each day of my stay, reminders of quaking in recent weeks) but also the durable bonds and the abiding beauty that hold it all together. (Source: Bowtie & Broken Memento)
While it is indeed Rosslyn’s abiding beauty that beckoned us to this property in the first place and her abiding beauty that has buoyed us through years of historic rehabilitation (and personal rehab!), there are times when the border between broken and unbroken blurs and faultiness become fractures. In such cases it is the durable bonds that prevail, that steady the proverbial ship, that hold it all together.
Rarely, I find, does the journey tidily delineate between clear victories and clear setbacks. Ours is a nonbinary and highly subjective adventure, and this midwinter, mid-project hiatus is no exception. Disheartening and challenging, yes, but also an opportunity to acknowledge and to celebrate accomplishment, a notable benchmark on the quest to reinvent a 19th century utility building as a 21st century lifestyle hub on a par with Rosslyn’s gracious home, waterfront, and generous grounds.
In short, there was — and there is — far more to fête than to lament at this juncture.
Durable Joinery (Photo: Geo Davis)
Back to Work & Field Notes
In what’s become a familiar pattern, today’s post was an orphaned draft, initiated as field notes during my recent Essex sojourn, and then adapted into a readout for the team to catalyze our onsite meetings into an actionable scope of work. That part happened. Practical. Necessary. Timely. Now, with the benefit of sufficient remove (for tempering tone and shifting perspective) I’m revisiting those field notes from a more meditative perspective. And yes, my reflection has been fueled in no small part by an obsession with joinery.
Before I go there, guiding you into the mesmerizing maze of my imagination (bread crumbs advised), let’s ground this soon-to-be-ungrounded stream of conscious in the days we spent together as a team. Here are a few excerpts recapping my extended site visit.
We met as a big group and as multiple smaller groups over more than a week. Much was rehashed, brainstormed, problematized, and decided during these encounters, so I’d like to follow up with a readout from our main meeting as well as some of the items that came out independently in my one-on-one followups. Please understand that some of what I’m including may feel like micromanaging or second-guessing skills, expertise, experience, etc. Please accept my apologies in advance, and understand that neither are among my objectives. However the last month has illustrated the downside to having direction and decision-making silo’ed up. By “flattening” the team, I am hoping to shift the focus toward a more collegial, more ensemble oriented approach. We have ample resources in our team (an almost embarrassing abundance of skill, passion, and work ethic!), and I want to make sure that everyone has an opportunity to contribute, to catch problems before they materialize, to learn from one another, and to avoid the bottlenecks and logjams that we can’t afford at this halfway point.
We will continue to rely on Pam, Peter, and Eric as the three leads or “co-captains” with the objective of streamlining on-site decision-making and progress. But I strongly encourage everyone to study the plans, to ask questions, to make suggestions, and to contribute to the collaborative success of the icehouse rehabilitation as we cartwheel toward the finish line.
Although we covered an expansive scope of work during our meetings, I gathered the gist into a detailed outline for everyone to review, edit, and augment prior to our team meeting the following week. In addition to onboarding everyone as a contributing and valuable member of the team while reaffirming a commitment to transparency as we move forward, I also hope to encourage the sort of cross pollination that has consistently defined the high point of this and previous projects.
Our follow-up team meeting fleshed out the scope of work and cemented the near term benchmarks and timeline. We will be able to revisit weekly with an eye to efficient project management, clear expectations, and an emphasis on incubating the sort of collaborative environment that yields the best results and ensures the most enthusiastic comradely. Goals set. Updates as we advance upon these goals.
So that sets the stage in a dry, rearview mirror sort of way.
What it overlooks is the morale, outlook ,and commitment of everyone with whom I met. Shuffling the team and shifting responsibilities midstream is unsettling and disruptive at best. The way this team came together, processed the change, stepped up to new responsibilities, and immediately, resolutely refocused on the new map and timelines was astounding. Confident and optimistic, proud of their accomplishments heretofore, eager to restore forward motion, and laser focused on the tight timeline, elevated expectation, and bountiful challenges. Unwavering. And hopeful that the full team might be reconstituted in the home stretch to finish up strong together, and to collectively commemorate their accomplishments come June.
And this is part of what takes me to the woodworking, and specifically joinery, as a metaphor. Heck, it’s not even just the sorts of joining and conjunction that are foundational to joinery and even carpentry. It’s the millennia old art and artisanry committed to joining, conjoining, and even mending that fascinates me. I’ve waxed on aplenty about wab-sabi, so I’ll sidestep a tangential deep dive now (ditto for Kintsugi.) A tidy touchstone will suffice.
Wabi-sabi (侘寂) is a world view centered on the acceptance of transience and imperfection. The aesthetic is sometimes described as one of appreciating beauty that is “imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete” in nature. (Source: Wikipedia)
Joining, conjoining, and reconjoining. No false disguise, no pretense, no faux facade. Bringing together. Bringing back together. I’m clearly still ill equipped to wordsmith my ideas into articulate or persuasive prose. But I’m working on it. And I’m hurling this half-baked post into the world with the unrestrained wish that it will settle on fertile soil, that it will germinate, and that I will be able to observe and learn how to communicate what it is that I’m discovering, this groundswell of insight that I’m experiencing without yet fully comprehending what it is. Bear with me, and I’ll do my best to interpret the lessons as they are learned.
In the mean time, I will draw in two compelling perspectives that may well shed some light.
Durable Joinery (Photo: Geo Davis)
Joinery as Metaphor
Allow me a moment to weave in a consideration that deftly approaches the idea of woodworking as metaphor.
I am building a file cabinet for my office. It strikes me an apt metaphor for what we do as teachers in the classroom. I begin with a vision, followed by making a clearly developed plan. I gather the materials I will need – examining them for grain, quality, and fit. Each piece is cut just over the requisite length. I use a variety of joinery techniques to assemble the parts. The finished piece begins to take form. From the rough construction, wood is slowly and strategically removed, rounding edges and corners, sanding rough edges and surfaces, slowly revealing the finished shape. I stand back to see what continues to require attention. Final details are attended. Stain is gently rubbed in; varnish is brushed on – rubbed smooth between coats. I stand back and smile, satisfied with a pleasing, useful piece of furniture. — Bill Lindquist, January 3, 2012 (Source: The Purple Crayon)
Teaching. Yes. And team building. Team rebuilding.
Perhaps the following is only tangentially related, though it feels germane.
But I know full well that many woodworkers don’t want to hear about philosophy. What practical value can there possibly be in sitting around thinking about work? Isn’t it better just to roll up your sleeves and get to it?
I believe that this temptation to leave our brains at the door of the shop is rooted in a fundamental misunderstanding of human nature that separates our thinking from our doing…
We are whole beings, and although we have inner and outer aspects (mind/soul and body), we are essentially unities, not dualities… you cannot separate your mind from your body. You can’t put your thoughts and beliefs in one category and your practices in another.
So, why so much thinking and theory from a woodworking publication? Because, reader, you have a mind inextricably connected to those hands. And I am convinced that if we want our work to reflect the fullness of who we are, the why will be just as important as the how. — Joshua A. Klein, September 28, 2021 (Source: What’s With This Woodworking Philosophy Stuff? – Mortise & Tenon Magazine)
Absolutely. (And, as an aside, this reminds me that I’ve been ignoring another orphaned draft about Rosslyn’s 5w’s. Back on the punch list!)
Durable Joinery (Photo: Geo Davis)
At present I’m endeavoring to unweave our recent Rosslyn narrative just enough to re-braid the threads that anew, mending the challenges that have arisen, as if braiding a bridge over troubled water… (Or a bridge graft at the base of a partially girdled tree in Rosslyn’s orchard… Yikes! Mixed metaphors. And so long as I’m hoarding metaphors, what about kintsugi?)
Kintsugi is an ancient Japanese art in which broken pottery is mended with glue and gold honoring and highlighting the cracks rather than hiding them. The belief is the pottery is stronger and more valuable after the breakage and mending. Kintsugi is a powerful metaphor and physical art practice to explore layers of meaning of broken, to look at the pieces in new ways, and notice the ‘glue’ in our lives that assist us to mend, navigate challenging times and keep on going. — Kristin Pedemonti (Source: Mending What’s Broken | Steer Your Story)
The writhing winds are pulling my mind hither and yon, and I find myself too, too deep into this meandering meditation to abandon it. If I’ve lost you, I apologize. Know that we are lost together. But as fellow sojourners we are not idle, waiting for the illumination of morning. Perhaps we’ll stumble upon or quarry in the darkness.
In closing, and I promise you I am, allow me to apologize for this untethered and unedited runaway. More soon, I hope, on mortise and tenons and dovetails, joyful joinery, rejoinery and durable bonds. My imagination is conjuring an intricate scarf joint that conjoins by gathering, by honoring, by encouraging, a meticulously crafted union where stresses are distributed in all directions and resilient when forces challenge. My imagination is ringing with the melody of strengthen, even repairing a strained or failing joint. Join, conjoin, reconjoin…
“The way a team plays as a whole determines its success. You may have the greatest bunch of individual stars in the world, but if they don’t play together, the club won’t be worth a dime.” – Babe Ruth
Collaborate. Incubate. Collaboration. Incubation. Potent verbs. Evocative nouns. Language compromised by overuse. Overuse in terms of frequency, but also in terms of overgeneralized application. Genericized. Peppered across erroneous contexts. Trotted out like currency, displayed like ruffed grouse plumage to impress or intimidate. Potency diminished. Evocation enfeebled.
It’s funny how words (especially trendy buzzwords) and the notions they conjure in our minds give us the sometimes overconfident conviction that we understand one another. That we are communicating apples-to-apples and oranges-to-oranges. But maybe we aren’t. Or, at least, maybe sometimes we aren’t. We bob and nod and smile and volley words and ideas back and forth, feeling smug and productive and accomplished. And yet, a cartoonist might draw little thought bubbles above our heads betraying our inner monologues and assumptions and questions, thought bubbles that show a small and sometimes a huge discrepancy between the world collage we’re creating and any semblance of comprehension.
Pamuela Murphy, July 2022: Kudos to the queen of collaborative incubation! (Photo: Geo Davis)
Collaborative Incubation
Collaboration in’t the plug-and-play gizmo we make it out to be. It’s hard work. Immensely rewarding, but challenging. Collaboration demands much of the contributors. Skills. Expertise. Commitment. Followthrough. Respect for one another. Humility. Ambition. Confidence in the potential for a sum greater than its constituent parts… And it requires a willingness to bridle ego in service to the team, a commitment to second personal pride to the potential for collective accomplishment.
Like I said, it’s hard work. But when everything falls into place, the rewards transcend productivity and accomplishment, which are ample and impressive. The ultimate reward is in the doing, in the collaboration itself. Teamwork, well executed, is immensely satisfying in and of itself.
So how do we incubate collaboration?
Bring together good people. Good skills. Good character. Good minds. Good work ethics. But ingredients don’t make a cake no matter how fine the quality, no matter how long you wait. They’re still just ingredients.
A chef combines the ingredients and sets the chemistry in motion. A catalyst as invested and passionate and humble and ambitious as everyone else on the team. A leader. A captain. A shepherd. Successful collaboration usually originates in successful incubation. Let’s call this collaborative incubation. And then let’s invert the words for a moment… You with me?
Incubating Collaboration
If collaboration profits from (and often requires) incubation — and I’m convinced it does — then it’s worth reflecting on the relationship between collaboration and incubation.
Friday isn’t really TGIF for Rosslyn’s icehouse rehab team. For some members of the crew it’s starting time. As their workweek schedule reaches the finish line, their “side hustle” schedule reaches the starting line. So today, as we wind down another Monday-through-Friday and transition into another productive weekend, I’m feeling profoundly grateful to the many men and women who choose to make our work their work. Thank you for transforming our hopes and schemes into brick and mortar reality. With multiple concurrent projects underway at Rosslyn (icehouse, boathouse gangway, leftover deck rebuild projects, and inside the home), and some but not much overlap between them, there are too many individuals deserving thanks to list here. But there in one individual who keeps all of the moving parts in motion. One humble hustler guarantees that everything is progressing, collision-free. One reliable leader supports the entire team while ensuring quality control, upbeat and respectful morale, impeccable communication with Susan and me. I refer to this point person as the “air traffic controller”, and not just for the myriad projects at Rosslyn. She concurrently manages ADK Oasis Highlawn and ADK Oasis Lakeside, as well as the Westport Yacht Club. And we’re only about half of the properties in her portfolio.
I’m referring to Pam Murphy. She’s the glue that holds it all together. She’s the hub at the center of the spinning wheel. She’s the wizard wrangling hundreds of collaborators and plans and materials and deadlines. She’s the friend and colleague incubating collaboration day after day after day. And Susan and I are among the grateful beneficiaries. For years now. No buzzwords needed. Just profound respect for her intelligence, her intuitive interpersonal dynamics, her methodical organization and communication, her curiosity and appetite for learning, her perennial wellspring of energy, her empathy for everyone on the team, her attention to detail, her fierce loyalty to us and to everyone else with whom she works, her morally unambiguous clarity and conviction, and the confidence she has placed in us over the years to reciprocate the trust, respect, support, and affection that she has always given to us.
When I talk about collaboration, collaborative incubation, and incubating collaboration, the thought bubble above my head is a cartoon of Pam accomplishing a dozen tasks at once while she smiles and all of the cartoon figures around her smile along with her!
“Find a group of people who challenge and inspire you, spend a lot of time with them, and it will change your life.” – Amy Poehler
Ingredients for Christmas Turkey Dressing (Photo: Geo Davis)
Last night, I enjoyed Christmas dinner, the sequel. No, not the movie. The leftovers. Leftover turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, roasted, butternut squash, all smothered under her blanket of gravy. And for dessert, pumpkin pie, and pecan pie.
And, as you may have predicted, it was delicious. Perhaps even more delicious than the first go round. Have you ever noticed that some meals just taste better the second time around? Hold that thought…
And note that I didn’t mention leftover turkey dressing / stuffing. There’s still plenty of that, but I’m one-and-done with stuffing. I enjoy making it, but after an initial scoop (and a small scoop at that) on Thanksgiving and Christmas, I’m on the the tastier dishes. It’s too filling. Too heavy. Too, well, just less appealing to me, even when drowning in gravy.
Ingredients for Christmas Turkey Dressing (Photo: Geo Davis)
Leftovers
This post is brought to you by leftovers. Yes, the ones crammed into your refrigerator right now. But not just those. Let’s expand our thinking beyond food. I imagine you have all sorts of remainders and vestigial scraps tucked into the nooks and crannies of your home. Junk drawers, closets, garage,… I’m thinking about all of those items (I’ll stick with “items” for now, but fair warning that I’ll soon ask you to consider them “ingredients”) that you could have thrown away but didn’t because you suspected that you’d be able to use them again in the future.
You with me?
Don’t worry, I’m not going to show you photographs of the two ingredients above as they after becoming turning dressing, after being served on Christmas, after getting scooped into a glass container, and after spending some time in the refrigerator. Sure, the turkey dressing is still edible, but it’s decidedly less photogenic at this stage.
But last night while feasting on our Christmas dinner sequel I got to wondering why the leftovers tasted better during their debut. It’s different than stew and soup and even some pasta dishes, all of which seem to hit their stride only after they’ve had some time to rest a while. And maybe it has something to do with the fact that my first experience with this meal followed a morning-until-late-afternoon cooking frenzy. Whereas last night I simply sat down and devoured the goodness.
Leftovers as Ingredients (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Ingredients
This post is *also* brought to you by ingredients. Yes, like the fresh celery and onions above, we joyfully imagine crisp, colorful ingredients bursting with flavor. But poking through the fridge, pushing aside containered leftovers, wondering what in the world to eat, we get a different feeling. Less joyful. More resigned. But sometimes, last night’s dinner for example, we are surprised when we embrace the sequel.
Sometimes we get creative and reimagine the leftovers, decide to experiment with different combinations, different preparations. We cease to think of the leftovers as unfinished extras from the first meal, and we repurpose them as the ingredients for a brand new creation. Remember corn cakes and turkey gravy? Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t.
While overeating Christmas dinner for the second time it struck me how similar edible leftovers and building materials can be. Think of surplus lumber and architectural salvage. They get pushed to the back of the proverbial fridge (in our case, usually one of the outbuildings) in the hopes of one day becoming the ingredients for something relevant and exciting and new.
Leftovers as Ingredients (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
Leftovers as Ingredients
You see where I’m going with this?
I’ve repeatedly mentioned that the icehouse rehabilitation is an adaptive reuse project. Transform an obsolete utility building into a useful, relevant multi-use space that adds value to our life at Rosslyn. And, in addition to repurposing this handsome historic building, we have endeavored to repurpose as many surplus building materials and architectural salvage artifacts as reasonable (i.e. functionally and aesthetically viable) in the design and rehabilitation process.
I’ve talked about the repurposed columns and the loft flooring experiment, and I recently celebrated the upcycled coatrack and the antique ice hook (which will be displayed prominently as decor once rehab is complete). I’ve post a couple of updates on our “research” into upcycling garapa decking and re-milling our homegrown lumber into flooring (and other interior millwork). In the weeks and months ahead much of Hroth and Pam’s focus will shift indoors, and I’ll be relating additional opportunities that we’re exploring for repurposing our building leftovers as the raw ingredients for a brand new working and relaxing space that will fuse more than a century’s ingenuity and artifacts into an integrated, cohesive (and hopefully beautiful+charming) space.
As we journey through the icehouse rehabilitation, endeavoring to create relevance and value for leftovers while ensuring that the final result achieves these lofty aspirations of functional and aesthetic integration, cohesion, and attractiveness, brainstorming and collaboration become more and more important. And more and more enjoyable! With such a diverse cast of contributors, I’m hoping that we’ll cross pollinate and evolve ideas that none of us individually would have come up with. Co-creation is sure to conjure out-of-the-box ideas and original solutions that draw upon the diversity of experiences and passions and perspectives. So, please consider this an open invitation to share your suggestions!
Icehouse Foundation Collaboration: concrete truck arrives
Last Friday I gushed that it’d been a monumental week. No hyperbole. Tackling (and completing) Rosslyn’s icehouse foundation was an epic accomplishment, a concrete collaboration conjoining two separate teams to rescue the foundering concrete project. And while Friday’s post was brief, timely-but-abbreviated recognition for the indefatigable individuals who pulled off this remarkable feat, today I’ll show you the step-by-step process from prep work and two separate concrete pours to completion of the icehouse foundation and crawlspace floor. I see this accomplishment as an enduring testament to (and foundation for, excuse the pun) the unique energy fueling Rosslyn’s icehouse rehab, an intrinsically collaborative and transformative revitalization and adaptive reuse project.
Rising from the Ashes
After repeatedly failing to produce a verifiable estimate, timeline, and definitive commitment (ie. a contract), the concrete subcontractor imploded mere days before starting work on the icehouse.
“Bad news,” Pam informed me and then told me she needed to get back to me in a moment. No time for bad news, I thought.
By the time she called me, minutes later, both in-house teams had convened to brainstorm. Given the tight project timeline, they decided to undertake the foundation and slab themselves. This marked a return to the original plan (subsequently discarded in lieu of hiring a concrete contractor in the mistaken assumption that it would streamline and accelerate the project timeline) but with a twist… turning two teams into one. Full pivot!
One team (Pam, Hroth, Tony, Justin, Eric, Matt, Andrew, Bob, Phil, Scott, Brandon, Ben, and others) has been rehab’ing the icehouse, and the other team (Pam, Peter, and Supi) has been rebuilding the boathouse gangway, etc. You read right, Pam is managing both projects. And several other Rosslyn initiatives including our master bedroom balcony re-decking, master bathroom shower tile tune-up, overall property management at Rosslyn, ADK Oasis Highlawn, ADK Oasis Lakeside, and multiple other properties. (Since I can hear you wondering, yes, she’s that good!)
The combined concrete collaboration would be Pam, Peter, Hroth, Supi, and Tony. With everyone coalescing around one specific goal — completing the icehouse concrete as well or better than a dedicated contractor without blowing up the budget or timeline — the objectives were obvious, but so was the potential for challenges and setbacks. Imagine a metaphorical pressure cooker. Top clamped tight. For a week. With zero room for mistakes. And yet, collaboration prevailed despite the inevitable stress.
From layout to excavation to vapor barrier to pinning the old foundation to setting rebar to wiring mesh to pouring initial footings and slab to forming curbs and setting rebar to final pour and stripping… these five came through delivered in a big way. Together they’ve guaranteed a sound, well constructed foundation for Rosslyn’s circa 1889 icehouse rehabilitation. I can report with profound pride and pleasure that it was a total success.
Most of the crew was able to gather on Saturday evening to celebrate their accomplishment, an end result that is in all likelihood superior to what we would’ve wound up with in the first place. Sometimes setbacks are actually the inspiration to regroup, reboot, and outperform original expectations. Sometimes fiasco fans the fires of triumph. Sometimes the phoenix rises from the ashes.
Video Mashup of Concrete Collaboration
If you’d prefer the quick zip through, then this video mashup is for you.
Thanks to Pam, Hroth, and Tony for recording the photos and videos featured in this video mashup!
Photo Essay of Concrete Collaboration
Okay, now it’s time for the photo essay chronicling the step-by-step progress and the series of accomplishments made possible by the collaboration of Pam, Peter, Hroth, Supi, and Tony.
Icehouse Foundation: installing vapor barrier
Icehouse Foundation: Supi and Tony install vapor barrier
Icehouse Foundation: Supi and Tony install vapor barrier
Icehouse Foundation: Peter bending rebar
Icehouse Foundation: Peter bending rebar
Icehouse Foundation: installing rebar for footers
Icehouse Foundation: Hroth, Peter, and Supi awaiting concrete
Icehouse Foundation: rebar and remesh ready for concrete
Icehouse Foundation: Peter, Hroth, and Supi ready for concrete
Icehouse Foundation: Hroth, Peter, Tony, and Supi pulling concrete
Icehouse Foundation: Hroth, Peter, and Tony pulling concrete
Icehouse Foundation: Supi screeding concrete, Hroth and Peter pulling concrete
Icehouse Foundation: Tony, Hroth, Peter, and Supi pulling concrete
Icehouse Foundation: Supi screeding concrete; Peter, Hroth, and Tony pulling concrete
Icehouse Foundation: Supi floating concrete; Peter pulling concrete; Hroth supervising
Icehouse Foundation: first pour curing
Icehouse Foundation: Supi doweling curb rebar into green slab
Icehouse Foundation: building forms for second pour
Icehouse Foundation: building forms for second pour
Icehouse Foundation: building forms for second pour
Icehouse Foundation: building forms for second pour
Icehouse Foundation: forms ready for second pour
Icehouse Foundation: forms ready for second pour
Icehouse Foundation: forms ready for second pour
Icehouse Foundation: dowels, rebar, and forms ready for second pour
Icehouse Foundation: Peter and Supi pouring curb
Icehouse Foundation: Supi vibrating concrete
Icehouse Foundation: green concrete setting up; j-bolts installed
Icehouse Foundation: foundation stripped and curing
Icehouse Foundation: foundation stripped and curing
Icehouse Foundation: foundation stripped and curing
Icehouse Foundation: foundation stripped and curing
Icehouse Foundation: concrete curing
Thanks to Pam, Hroth, and Tony for recording the photos featured in this photo essay
Icehouse Concrete Work Complete (Photo: Hroth Ottosen)
It’s been another monumental week! After the concrete subcontractor melted down a week ago, mere days before starting work on the icehouse, our in-house team decided to undertake the foundation and slab themselves. Today I can report with profound pride and pleasure that it was a total success. The crew is gathering tomorrow to celebrate two exemplary pours and an end result that is — in all candor — most likely superior to what we would’ve wound up with in the first place. Sometimes setbacks are actually the inspiration to regroup, reboot, and outperform original expectations.
Needless to say, it’s been an uber productive but looong week with a staggering level of accomplishment to celebrate, so I’ll keep this update short and sweet. I promise to share a more detailed look at the full court press made by Hroth, Pam, Peter, Supi, and Tony (as well as the concrete collaboration extraordinaire they have to show for their efforts) soon, probably even tomorrow or Sunday.
