Tag: Garapa Decking

  • Upcycled Christmas Gifts

    Upcycled Christmas Gifts

    What wintery wonders shall I share with you today? How about a celebration (and showcase) of upcycled Christmas gifts dreamed into existence by three allstar members of our icehouse rehab team?

    Upcycled Christmas Gifts from Pam, Hroth, and Tony (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
    Upcycled Christmas Gifts from Pam, Hroth, and Tony (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

    Pam, Hroth, and Tony stopped Susan and me in our just-barely-post-winter-solstice tracks with an early Christmas gift (or three) that exemplify the apex of upcycling and adaptive reuse that I’ve been blathering on about for, well, for a looong time.

    [pullquote]These upcycled Christmas gifts are a product and symbol of renewal.[/pullquote]

    I talk and I type, but these three creative characters have reimagined and reinvented deconstruction debris into functional art and decor. They transformed a piece of old garapa decking and a handful of icehouse artifacts (uncovered during laborious hand excavation for the new foundation) into a handsome coatrack, and they transformed a gnarled piece of rusty steel back into a museum-worthy ice hook that turns the clock back 100+ years.

    Let’s start with the photograph at the top of this post which Pam accompanied with the following note of explanation.

    Hroth, Tony and I wanted to wish you both a very Merry Christmas. We came up with the idea to make a coat rack out of repurposed items. The wood is old garapa. I found the spikes in the icehouse during inventory and the hook was also discovered in the icehouse during excavation for the concrete floor/footers. Hroth custom made a handle for the ice hook. We also wanted to add a new hummingbird feeder to the garden outside of the breakfast area. Merry Christmas! — Pamuela Murphy

    Perfection! Garapa upcycled from Rosslyn’s 2008-9 deck build and miscellaneous ice hauling artifacts reconciled and reborn as a new coat rack that will greet icehouse visitors upon entering the miniature foyer, and a restored antique ice hook that will be displayed prominently in the main room. Bravo, team.

    Upcycled Christmas Gifts from Pam, Hroth, and Tony (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
    Upcycled Christmas Gifts from Pam, Hroth, and Tony (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

    I was curious how Hroth had fabricated the garapa handle for the ice hook out of old decking boards. It’s so round/cylindrical that it looks as if he’d used a lathe.

    Two pieces of garapa laminated together. Started out about a 16 inch because it was easier to run through the table saw. I made an octagon out of it on the table saw, then used the big belt sander… I roughed it up a little bit. Didn’t want it to look too perfect. Then Pam suggested that we take a propane torch to it. Made it look older.

    It was a fun project. I still need to seal the wood and the metal. Penetrating sealer works well on metal. It’s sharp… We were thinking you might want to put some corks on the ends… or garapa balls. That was the first thing I thought of. We can certainly do that. — Ottosen Hroth

    Carving tiny garapa orbs to install on the spikes strikes me as the perfect way to complete the coat rack so that jackets can be hung without getting spikes. It’ll be a difficult-but-intriguing challenge! There must be some technique for creating a small wooden sphere out of a block of wood. Hhhmmm…

    I can’t imagine more perfect Christmas gifts. Their collaboration has rendered layers of Rosslyn history — from the late 1800s and early 1900s when the icehouse was in use, through 2008 when we built the deck that yielded this garapa, to 2022 when the old deck was deconstructed and the icehouse rehabilitation was initiated — into timeless beauty that will adorn the icehouse when it is introduced/revealed next summer. These upcycled Christmas gifts are a product and symbol of renewal. Our gratitude is exceeded only by Hroth’s, Pam’s, and Tony’s collaborative accomplishment.

    The flip-through gallery above offers a few more details, and all three (as the two featured photographs above) are documented inside the icehouse with mid-construction backdrops: old studs with new spray foam insulation and new subfloor ready for interior framing and hardwood flooring. It’s tempting to offer tidier or even fancier backdrops, but authenticity prevails. Future decor created from old materials, documented midstream the icehouse’s transformation. Future, past, and present. Concurrent history and hope, a timeless present, an artistic representation of this liminal moment.

    Backstory to Upcycled Christmas Gifts

    Susan and my gratitude to Pam, Hroth, and Tony is (and obviously should be) the focus of today’s Rosslyn Redux installment, but I can’t conclude without first considering a slightly more amplified retrospective, the backstory, if you will, to the new coat rack and restored ice hook.

    Let’s start by rewinding the timeline to 2008-9. Building the new deck and installing garapa decking was the proverbial caboose in a virtually endless train of construction that started in the summer of 2006. (Source: Garapa Decking 2008-2009)

    In the photograph below, taken exactly fourteen years ago today, Warren Cross is putting the finishing touches on our first deck build. Although the perspective may be misleading given the still unbuilt garbage and recycling “shed” which today stands directly behind Warren, this is the northernmost extension of Rosslyn’s deck. The stone step (actually a repurposed hitching post chiseled from Chazy and Trenton limestone (aka “Essex stone”) and the rhododendron shrubs are not yet in place either.

    But it you imagine the perspective as if you were standing just north of the morning room, looking back toward the carriage barn and icehouse, you’ll be oriented in no time. Oriented, yes, but nevertheless a bit disoriented too, I imagine, as you look upon a carpenter laboring in the snow to scribe and affix the garapa deck skirting / apron that will complete the installation that had began in the autumn with far more hospitable conditions.

    Warren Cross completing garapa decking installation on December 22, 2008 (Photo: Geo Davis)
    Warren Cross completing garapa decking installation on December 22, 2008 (Photo: Geo Davis)

    It’s worth noting that Warren, already in his mature years when he worked on Rosslyn with us, not only threw himself into difficult endeavors like the one above, he contributed decades’ of experience and an unsurpassed work ethic that inspired everyone with whom he worked in 2008 and 2009. But there’s an even more notable memory that describes Warren. He was a gentleman. And he was a gentle man. It was a privilege to witness Warren’s collegiality, and Rosslyn profited enduringly from his expertise. But it was his disposition, his consideration, and his kindness that make me nostalgic when I hear him mentioned or when I catch sight of him in photographs.

    These handsome upcycled Christmas gifts are enriched by memories of Warren Cross and others (Kevin Boyle, Doug Decker, Don Gould, Andy Cross, Jonathan Schier, Jacob Sawitski, and Mike Manzer) who labored from autumn-to-winter, past the winter solstice, and almost until Christmas, in order to see this project through. And that’s only the first chapter of Rosslyn’s garapa decking. This past summer, when we deconstructed and rebuilt Rosslyn’s deck, was the second chapter.

    In preparation for our summer 2022 deck rebuild we carefully salvaged all of this original garapa decking, and current experiments are underway to determine the most appealing adaptive reuse in the new icehouse project(Source: Garapa Decking 2008-2009)

    I’ve recounted our summer adventure in recent months, so I’ll simply say now that all of these new memories are infused into the coat rack and ice hook. In addition to Pam and Hroth and Tony, this new chapter in Rosslyn’s garapa decking journey summon fond recollections of David McCabe, Ed Conlin, Eric Crowningshield, Matt Sayward, Justin Buck, Jarrett Cruikshank, Brandon Dumas, Andrew Roberts, and Jason Lautenschuet.

    In terms of memories conjured by this repurposed garapa decking, I should include Hroth’s “research” this past autumn into how best we might reuse the lumber. There was such anticipation and excitement in the hours he experimented and explored. The image below perfectly illustrates the hidden gold just waiting to reemerge from the deconstructed decking material.

    Glorious Garapa: Upcycling Decking Debris (Source: R.P. Murphy)
    Glorious Garapa: Upcycling Decking Debris (Source: R.P. Murphy)

    I wrote this at the time.

    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. (Source: Upcycling Decking Debris)

    Hroth’s discoveries underpin our plan to panel the interior of the new icehouse bathroom with what for a decade and a half withstood the Adirondack Coast elements season after season, and a rambunctious parade of footfalls, barbecues, dog paws, wetsuits, etc. It’s as if the new coat rack exudes the anticipation and optimism that many of us brought to the journey of upcycling the old decking into the new paneling.

    And there is an aside that I’m unable to resist mentioning. Pam’s late husband, Bob Murphy, who worked as our property caretaker and became an admired and dearly respected friend, several times removed and reinstalled Rosslyn’s garapa decking over the years — monitoring, triaging, and compensating for the failing TimberSIL substructure. He knew that we would need to rebuild the entire deck soon, and yet he waged a relentless campaign to extend the useful life of the deck as long as possible. I think he’d be proud of the work accomplished by the team this summer, and he sure would have loved being part of that team! And the icehouse rehab would have thrilled him. Needless to say, these upcycled Christmas gifts from Pam and Hroth and Tony also exude Bob’s smile, familiar chuckle, and that mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

    And what about that antique ice hook?

    I mentioned above an antique ice hook, and the photograph below illustrates exactly what I was referring to. Disinterred by Tony while cleaning out and grading the dirt floor of the icehouse, this badly corroded artifact bears an uncanny resemblsnce to a common tool of yesteryear: the handheld hook. This implement was most often used for 1) grabbing and hauling ice blocks and/or 2) carrying hay bales. The location where this relic was discovered (as well as plenty of examples uncovered by quick research online) strongly suggest that this is an antique ice hook. (Source: Icehouse Rehab 01: The Ice Hook)

    Isn’t a beauty? Well, rusty and corroded, but a beauty nonetheless, I think.

    Antique Ice Hook, artifact unearthed during the icehouse rehabilitation, 2022 (Source: R.P. Murphy)
    Antique Ice Hook, artifact unearthed during the icehouse rehabilitation, 2022 (Source: R.P. Murphy)

    The prospect of restoring that ice hook crossed my mind at the time. But it struck me as a challenging proposition given the advanced state of decay. What a surreal transformation from rust-crusted phantom to display-ready relic! It too is marinated in memories, some recent and personal, others vague and distant. In the near rearview mirror are the painstaking efforts made by our team to secure the historic stone foundation beneath the icehouse while ensuring the structural integrity demanded by modern building codes. A labor of loves on the parts of so many. And today we can look back from the proud side of accomplishment. As for the more distant rearview, the antique mirror has succumbed to the influence of time, the glass crazed and hazy, the metallic silver chipped and flaking. And yet we can detect traces of laughter and gossip as blocks of ice were cut from the lake, hooked and hauled up to the icehouse, and stacked in tidy tiers for cooling and consumption during temperate times ahead.

    A Glimmer of Springtime

    In closing this runaway post, I would like to express my warmest gratitude for the upcycled Christmas gifts above, and for a new hummingbird feeder to welcome our exuberant avian friends back in the springtime. Taken together this medley of gifts excite in Susan and me the enthusiasm and optimism for the coming months of rehabilitation and mere months from now the opportunity to celebrate a project too long deferred and so often anticipated. With luck we’ll be rejoicing together in the newly completed icehouse by the time the hummingbirds return to Rosslyn.

    Hummingbird Feeder 2022 Christmas Gift from Pam, Tony, and Hroth (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
    Hummingbird Feeder 2022 Christmas Gift from Pam, Tony, and Hroth (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

    Thank you, Pam, Hroth, and Tony for these perfect presents. And thank you to everyone else I’ve mentioned above for enriching this home and our lives. I look forward to rekindling these memories when I hang my coat or my cap up each time I enter the icehouse. Merry Christmas to all!

  • New Year’s Day: Writer’s Garret & Other Wonders

    New Year’s Day: Writer’s Garret & Other Wonders

    We survived 2022, friends, and in some fortunate cases, we even thrived. Cheers to surviving and thriving an occasionally challenging year!

    New Year’s Day: Writer’s Garret (Photo: Hroth Ottosen)
    New Year’s Day: Writer’s Garret (Photo: Hroth Ottosen)

    That means it’s time for a meandering year-ender… 

    Retrospective

    I’d like to jumpstart my retrospective with a positive personal milestone.

    Yesterday’s post, “New Year’s Eve”, was my 153rd post in a row, completing a 5-month streak of daily updates without missing a single day. It’s an impartial victory at this point with seven months still on the to-do side of the ledger, but it’s an accomplishment that underpins my optimism — indeed my confidence — that I can achieve my goal of 365 days of uninterrupted Rosslyn updates. (Wondering why one year is a significant benchmark? I’ll explain soon, I promise.) In broad strokes, this is beginning to feel like actual, believable progress toward resuscitating Rosslyn Redux, my multidisciplinary meditation on the *art of homing*. There are so many reasons why this is important to me, and I’ve poked at a bunch on them in recent months, but for now I hope you’ll just allow that this exploration, this inside-out creative experiment, this quasi crowdsourced inquiry, and the resulting nexus of artifacts and stories and visuals and poems and all of the esoteric marginalia that has accreted over the last seventeen years since Susan and I bought Rosslyn is meaningful. Heck, to be 100% candid, for me it’s not just meaningful; it’s vital.

    But enough heavy handed me-centrism. I’m flirting dangerously close to catharsis, so it’s time to lighten up. Time to imbue the balance of this post with effervescent toast-worthy bullet points like champagne bubbles rising giddily. Time for levity.

    But first, an aside. I’m trying to distill my year-ender into a positive, celebratory retrospective without slipping into a post-mortem review of some of the less celebratory events. For this reason I started with a little victory dance celebrating the Rosslyn Redux momentum. My re-immersion has been stimulating and it’s catalyzing all sorts of overdue transformation. For this I’m profoundly grateful. And I’m doubling down on my commitment to see this challenge through to its conclusion.

    There’s actually much more to celebrate, but to avoid overburdening this retrospective I’ll streamline my recap by simply listing and linking some of the most notable highlights. That way you can follow the links to more specific updates if you’re interested. And I’ll add a coming-soon placeholder in lieu of a link for those I haven’t yet covered. I’m hoping that this will keep things as lean as possible, because isn’t that always on our New Year‘s resolutions?!?!

    High on the happy news is the ongoing icehouse rehab. It’s been a looong fantasized vision (and an almost equally long unrealized vision) that involves rehabilitating the last of the four buildings we set out to revitalize back in 2006. And, in this case, there’s a self-serving motive fueling my push. I perennially pine for a writer’s “garret”, and at last the icehouse loft will become that sanctuary just far enough removed to allow me to spread my stacks and sink into my writing projects. I. Can’t. Wait.

    In addition to the icehouse rehab (and a writer’s hideaway), another biggy on the decade plus wishlist came tyre. In late winter off 2022 we finally invested in a high tunnel for the Rosslyn vegetable garden. It’s been a fascinating learning curve, and in a couple of months we’ll be getting it ready for another growing season with the benefit of one year already under our belts. Totally unrelated to gardening but similarly braided into the lakeside lifestyle that draws us to this remarkable property, we’ve made a change in our aquatic locomotion. You may recall that Errant, our 31′ sloop was sold in the hopes of replacing it with a slightly larger sailboat. Well, that plan was impacted by the attenuated pandemic which distorted the boat market and compelled us to stall long enough to deep-think our wants/needs. In short, our plans evolved significantly. Last summer we took delivery of a new 28′ Chris Craft launch that has become our entertaining and “picnic boat”, allowing our ski/surf boat to serve it’s proper purpose despite serving as our “everything boat” for years. This decision was part of sailboat shift as well. In a pretty significant reorientation we’ve been exploring the possibility of our future sailing adventures happening along the California, initially, and then possibly further north and south. This spring we’ll again sail on the west coast and continue to experiment with different iterations for our future sailing plans.

    But I’m drifting of course, so I’d better tack back toward Rosslyn.

    New Year’s Day: Writer’s Garret (Photo: Hroth Ottosen)
    New Year’s Day: Writer’s Garret (Photo: Hroth Ottosen)

    Despite a disheartening debacle a year or so ago during our first foray into repairs on the Rosslyn’s boathouse gangway, the summer of 2022 marked a turning point. First came Patrick McAuliff‘s monumental transformation of Rosslyn’s front yard, replacing the overgrown, toppling arborvitae hedge with a handsome hemlock hedge. This quick summary oversimplifies (and leapfrogs a mysterious discovery), but I’ll unravel this yearn soon enough, I promise. 

    And then there was Rosslyn’s deck rebuild. This story had been evolving for a while (all the way back to TimberSIL). Most recently the same OPUD who cost us dearly on the boathouse gangway effectively hamstrung us on the deck as well. We retreated to Essex from Santa Fe earlier than normal to escape the worst forest fires in New Mexico history. With boathouse and deck in unsafe and unusable condition we began cancelling summer guests and plans…

    But I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m sidestepping into the post-mortem that I intended to keep separate. Back to the deck rebuild which is complete, sturdy as can be, and stunningly beautiful (Hurrah, garapa decking!). And better yet, the ingredients for this rebuild included an outstanding team of friends and family and former collaborators on projects like the ADK Oasis Lakeside renovation who coalesced at the last minute and quickly became a skilled, collegial, productive, and fun loving team. In fact, much of this team is what has now evolved into the icehouse team. 

    After the boathouse gangway’s false start, there’s good news on Rosslyn’s waterfront as well. After the deeply discouraging setback inherited from the OPUD, after dismantling much of their work in order to rebuild correctly (the verdict of every single contractor who evaluated the miscarried first attempt), and after painstakingly recreating the original conditions instead of perpetuating the errors inherited from the OPUD, we’re back on track with a capable, experienced team. Fingers crossed that the boathouse gangway will be good as new next spring! 

    And there’s sooo much more. But I’ve waxed wordy, and my update has gotten too long. So I’ll abbreviate boldly with that list I promised earlier. Better late than never.

    Trail building was advanced significantly with the hard work of Tony Foster, the guidance of John Davis, and the oversight of Pam Murphy. Rewilding progress was made, and thriving wildlife population documented. Tile and grout maintenance underway in bathrooms and kitchen by Clay Belzile. Stone wall reveal and landscaping at ADK Oasis Highlawn, and orchard restoration and stone wall rebuilding at ADK Oasis Lakeside. Too many contributors to these projects to list them all, but some notables were Bob Kaleita, Phil Valachovic, Patrick McAuliff, Roger King, Aaron Valachovic, and Tony Foster.

    Other highlights include excellent gardening assistance on all three properties by our incredibly hardworking Amish neighbors, re-homing the zero-turn and the truckling, and one of our best apple and pear seasons in the orchard.

    I’ll close with an admission that I didn’t succeed 100% in restricting my retrospective to the celebratory highlights. I drifted into post-mortem territory a couple of times. But, for now at least, I’ve edited out our unfortunate encounter with Covid, my father’s health upset, and Susan’s miraculous recovery from a life threatening tragedy this autumn. Today is a day to embrace success and optimism. And from the vantage point of January 1st even the most difficult challenges of the last year give me cause for celebrating success and renewing optimism. 

    Cheers to a glorious new year!

  • Upcycling Garapa Decking

    Upcycling Garapa Decking

    You may recall that we’ve been upcycling garapa decking from Rosslyn’s 2008-9 deck that we salvaged and laid aside this past summer. Spanning half a year so far — from deconstructing and culling reusable material midsummer to multiple experiments determining optimal dimensions for adaptive reuse as bathroom paneling — we’re now scaling up production and the results are impressive.

    Tony Upcycling Garapa Decking (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
    Tony Upcycling Garapa Decking (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

    Adaptive reuse of the old decking was an abstract ideal when I announced it at the outset. I’m not 100% certain whether the rest of the team was intrigued and looked forward to the challenge, or thought it was yet another frustrating folly. But Hroth was an especially good sport, planing board after board and trimming the edges to determine what would work best.

    We have begun re-milling and re-planing garapa decking salvaged from Rosslyn’s summer 2022 deck rebuild. These sample boards are among the many weathered specimens carefully removed this spring and summer prior to rebuilding Rosslyn’s deck substructure and re-decking with new garapa. Hroth’s patient. Hroth’s patient exploratory experimentation is the first phase in our effort to adaptively reuse this character-rich material in the icehouse. Still preliminary, but exciting possibilities ahead!

    Adaptive Reuse

    And later…

    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. (Source: Upcycling Decking Debris)

    Squeezed into the interstices of all of the other more pressing priorities in the daily scope of work, little by little Hroth determined that 3-7/8” x 5/8” were reasonable dimensions. We both really liked the look. In fact, Hroth, Tony, and Pam, like the look so much that they decided to upcycle some reclaimed garapa (plus a few artifacts from the icehouse excavation) into dashing decor!

    Garapa upcycled from Rosslyn’s 2008-9 deck build and miscellaneous ice hauling artifacts reconciled and reborn as a new coat rack that will greet icehouse visitors upon entering the miniature foyer, and a restored antique ice hook that will be displayed prominently in the main room. Bravo, team. (Source: Upcycled Christmas Gifts)

    And now Tony is beavering away industriously transforming the salvaged lumber. The photographs in this post offer a nice glimpse into Tony’s work upcycling garapa decking into pristine planks for paneling.

    Tony Upcycling Garapa Decking (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
    Tony Upcycling Garapa Decking (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

    In the photograph below, you see gradients of old gray surface wood that was exposed to the weather over a decade and a half. You can also see wood that is further along in the planing process, revealing beautiful garapa coloring and grain.

    Upcycling Garapa Decking (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
    Upcycling Garapa Decking (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

    It’s a slow and painstaking process that demands plenty of patience and focus, but the results are worth it. Transforming debris into beautiful finish paneling will prove rewarding, for sure. And in the photograph below, I suspect the Tony is even beginning to appreciate what magnificence he is bringing into existence.

    Tony Upcycling Garapa Decking (Photo: R.P. Murphy)
    Tony Upcycling Garapa Decking (Photo: R.P. Murphy)

    Here’s a quick remix to enliven this static commentary…

    https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cm_ttD5haqx/

    And here’s another, reflecting back to Hroth’s earlier expiratory “research”.

    XXX

    https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cj4hbRIAFlh/

    And, just for the fun of it, here is the new deck build once it was complete.

    https://www.instagram.com/reel/Ci0XQr3A3Rn/

    Thanks, Hroth and Tony.

  • Leaf Stain Art

    Leaf Stain Art

    Leaf Stain Art, Detail: up close and personal with the delicate leaf stain art that will add character to our new grape deck. (Source: Eric Crowningshield)
    Leaf Stain Art, Detail: up close and personal with the delicate leaf stain art that will add character to our new grape deck. (Source: Eric Crowningshield)

    “Leaf stain” usually refers to unsightly dark marks on pool and house decks, sidewalks, patios, etc. caused when leaves that have fallen from trees are allowed to sit long enough to discolor the surface. However the delicate silhouette of a leaf or leaves is sometimes attractive and intriguing like a fossil discovered in a stone wall or patio. In this case leaf stain needn’t detract from the beauty of exterior surfaces. Sometimes the delicate silhouette of a leaf or leaves is so beautiful that it deftly sheds the nuisance mantle and assumes the found art mantle.

    It’s a matter of perspective. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, right?

    And so I was pleased with I received a message and photograph from Eric Crowningshield yesterday.

    Leaf Stain Art, Detail: See the delicate leaf silhouette? (Source: Eric Crowningshield)
    Leaf Stain Art, Detail: See the delicate leaf silhouette? (Source: Eric Crowningshield)

    “Just wanted to check with you before sanding this off? […] This must have been a leaf that sat on the deck. Not sure if it would stay after staining or not but definitely cool if it did.”

    Of course, we kept it. It’s exquisite!

    We’re grateful to Eric for noticing and preserving the leaf stain, a subtle gift from nature that will hopefully remain visible after the new garapa decking is oiled. I presume that you see the leaf stain in the first photo in this post, but can you see it in the second photo? What about this larger perspective?

    Leaf Stain Art, Location: Can you spy the delicate leaf silhouette several paces from the bottom of the stairs? (Source: Eric Crowningshield)
    Leaf Stain Art, Location: Can you spy the delicate leaf silhouette several paces from the bottom of the stairs? (Source: Eric Crowningshield)

    That’s a little trickier to discern. But if you look carefully, more-or-less in the middle of the photograph, you’ll see the leaf stain. It’s eight decking boards to the left of the black grate. See it? What about in this perspective?

    Leaf Stain Art, Location: Can you spy the delicate leaf silhouette several paces from the bottom of the stairs? (Source: Eric Crowningshield)
    Leaf Stain Art, Location: Can you spy the delicate leaf silhouette several paces from the bottom of the stairs? (Source: Eric Crowningshield)

    From this perspective the location of the leaf stain is eight garapa decking boards to the right of the black grate about 2/3 up from the bottom of the photo. It’s pretty well camouflaged, but I love the idea that somebody, some time will notice it. A little surprise. Like the many fossils that are hidden (in plain site) in our stone walls, it will be be fun when friends and family happen to note the natural art.

    Oiling the Grape Decking

    Although Hroth Ottosen finished installing the of the garapa decking a couple of weeks ago and Eric’s team wrapped up installing and sanding plugs more recently, the final step of this project is to seal the garapa decking with oil. Here’s the progress so far.

    Oiling Garapa Decking: sealing progress is being made on the new deck, and the color/grain are popping dramatically. (Source: Eric Crowningshield)
    Oiling Garapa Decking: sealing progress is being made on the new deck, and the color/grain are popping dramatically. (Source: Eric Crowningshield)

    What magnificent color and grain the oil brings out! That is almost exactly how the decking looks after a soaking rain, so we’ve been able to get a preview several times during installation. And this is actually a sort of IRL déjà vu from the winter of 2008 when the deck was installed for the first time. In fact, despite the exciting freshness of the redecking project, this is actually a repeat of the installation that marked the final significant project in our original Rosslyn rehabilitation. I’m planning to compose another post soon that highlights the original decking project, and another that showcases this summer’s 2022 redo. (If you’re wondering why the first deck only lasted about fourteen years, you’re asking the right question. Answer will be forthcoming soon, I promise.)

    Redecking Gratitude

    This is the third project that Eric Crowningshield has worked on for us, the most ambitious of which was his first, a 9-10 month epic remodel of ADK Oasis Lakeside. When we decided to purchase and remodel a second vacation rental adjoining ADK Oasis Highlawn in the middle of the pandemic, everyone thought we were nuts. How in the world did we expect to transform this property during such challenging times, especially given that we’d be in Santa Fe for many of the most challenging months of the remodel?

    No sense revisiting that monumental undertaking here, but suffice to say that it never would have happened without the able leadership of Eric Crowningshield and Pam Murphy. Underpromise. Overdeliver. Every time. These two are a formidable team in and of themselves, but this summer we were even more fortunate to bring in three close friends to transform this overdue, languishing, pain in the @$$ project into a success story. Susan’s cousin, David McCabe, a carpenter/contractor in the DC-area brought decades of experience. Ed Conlin, a high school friend of Susan’s who quickly became a close friend to me (and everybody else he’s ever met) over two decades ago brought decades of construction experience. Our friend, Hroth Ottosen, a skilled carpenter who has worked for us on some singularly unique projects at our home in Santa Fe, signed on to captain this crew through the redecking project. Tony Foster, who joined our team during the ADK Oasis Lakeside project, brought his perennially flexible, impervious-to-hard-work-and-scorching-heat endurance, and upbeat demeanor to the redecking project. And Brandon, our savvy problem solving electrician rounded out the team. Actually, I’ve failed to mention some of the hardest working members of the team, the carpenters that work for Eric: Matt, Justin, Jarrett, Jason, and Andrew. But I’m getting ahead of myself…

    I didn’t mean to get in so deep on the re-decking crew, not yet, but my enthusiasm got the better of me. I’ll be dedicating a full post to this dream team soon, so I’ll abbreviate this postmortem for now by acknowledging that we’re profoundly grateful to work with such conscientious, communicative, creative people. Such GOOD people. Great work ethics, but also just decent, caring, people with integrity and positive demeanors. Thank you, all!

     

  • Teeter-Tottering

    Teeter-Tottering

    Teeter-Tottering: Should I stay or should I go? (Source: Geo Davis)
    Teeter-Tottering: Should I stay or should I go? (Source: Geo Davis)

    To borrow a turn of phrase from Shaye Elliott, “I’m teeter tottering between” being fully present in Essex and departing for Santa Fe, betwixt summer’s curtain call and autumn’s debut, between and betwixt scores of less-than-precisely delineated transitions.

    Should I stay or should I go now? — The Clash

    Fair warning: I’m mixing metaphors today. Like fusion cooking and creative cocktail concocting, I’m hoping that purists will forgive my transgression(s) and sample the experiment with an open mind.

    I’ve already shared a couple of quick riffs on the push-and-pull of seasonality, wrapping up the re-decking project, re-starting the boathouse gangway project, launching the exciting new icehouse project, and recovering from August 30 storm damage. I need to flesh out all of those transitions in fuller detail soon, but today instead I’ll touch on our autumn changeover from the Adirondack Coast to the high desert southwest with an unanticipated delay for COVID and a perhaps peculiarly drawn out rumination on teeter-tottering. Fair warning!

    Teeter-Tottering: Should I stay or should I go? (Source: Geo Davis)
    Teeter-Tottering: Should I stay or should I go? (Source: Geo Davis)

    Teasing Out Teeter-Tottering Metaphor

    I’m struck, I might add, by the strength of this teeter-tottering metaphor. The teeter-totter, a seesaw, with someone sitting on the other end, riding the teeter-totter seat down to the ground, close enough to toe-touch. When fortunate, bringing the soles of both feet to rest on the ground and bending knees to squat and push off, sending teeter-totter up into the air as a friend on the other end returns to the earth.

    I recollect that there’s another challenge (and distinct pleasure) to teeter-tottering as well. Sure, it’s exciting to tip one another up and down, but balancing is also appealing, both friends suspended in mid air, neither touching the ground, neither rising, neither falling. Equilibrium. Balance. A quivering stasis that requires focus and collaboration between both friends.

    Obviously the principal thrill of balancing on a teeter totter is that it’s incredibly difficult. And just as obvious is the indisputable fact that teeter-totter equilibrium is it best temporary. Eventually one or the other person will come back down to the earth, planting their feet on the ground, while the other will lift skyward. It’s impossible to postpone indefinitely.

    So if it’s obvious, why am I explaining it this way? I think that the allure of the teeter-tottering metaphor — at least for me, right now — is that it so perfectly conjoins otherwise dissimilar sentiments.

    I’m thrilled, exhilarated, and yet anxious about the abundance of thresholds upon which we are currently balancing. Certainly there’s a very real exuberance in the moments where we shed some gravity and float high. There are butterflies in the belly (and whirlwinds of worry in the belfry) when lofty ambitions come plunging down. But like that teeter-tottering youth of my memory, I often find that we’re endeavoring to maintain some fragile equilibrium, knowing full well that we can’t maintain it forever, and yet hoping to stabilize the teeter-totter for a moment, just another moment,… Or maybe a day? A week? This is not to say that we’re in denial about the inevitability of some pretty major transitions, but it speaks honestly about our hesitance in at least some cases.

    You’ve possibly noticed a parade of posts recently addressing the transitions and transformations that we’re navigating. I apologize for too often talking obliquely, speaking around the issue rather than addressing it directly. Sometimes that’s part of the process, I’m afraid. Sometimes the prologue serves the needs of the storyteller even more than the reader.

    In short, please bear with me. I recognize that not everybody enjoys teeter-tottering, so thank you for your patience, and in many cases, thank you for your generosity and advice and coaching.

    Know then that this curiously kaleidoscopic time and space we’re teeter-tottering through (I warned you about mixing my metaphors!) will yield to more candid sharing when the time is right, with updates aplenty including:

    • The exceedingly handsome garapa deck rebuild that was completed a few weeks ago.
    • The boathouse gangway rebuild v2.0 which we’ll be relaunching soon (or at least as soon as the new team can demo the dangerously misguided fiasco left behind when TFG finally admitted defeat and quit.)
    • The long anticipated icehouse rehabilitation and repurposing project that will get underway by the end of the month.

    With those considerably more interesting transformations in the offing soon, I’ll conclude this post with a slightly more personal teeter-tottering anecdote.

    Susan and I had prepared to depart Essex for Santa Fe considerably earlier this year than we habitually do. We’d invited some friends together for a last hurrah, and Susan had prepared impeccably as she does to enjoy a comfortable journey cross-country with our dog. And, given that our friend, Hroth Ottosen, would be mirroring our north-by-southwest migration as he returns from Santa Fe to Essex to take up residence at Rosslyn while we’re away (more on this including an introduction soon) our early departure was intended to allow comfortable breathing room between our departure and his arrival. But, as they say, the best laid plans…

    After exercising caution and safely eluding Covid for 2-1/2 years, Susan fell ill about a week prior to our departure. And within just under a week I followed suit. Although my recovery was fortunately quick, hers was not. In fact we were both startled with how much more pronounced her symptoms and how much longer the duration of her illness. If Covid affectively debilitated me for two days, it knocked her out for more than two weeks.

    Needless to say, our pre-departure fête and our travel plans were scuttled. Throw in Labor Day travel challenges, and we ended up postponing our departure even further. Perhaps this was the universe’s way of reminding us not to become overconfident in our planning, not to assume that we can orchestrate our way out of unpredictability, setbacks, and topsy-turvy crisis management that these times of transition typically engender. All this to say, the teeter totter tumbled!