Home Sweet Abbey

Sun Room Results

November 24, 2013

It has been more than a month since I wrote about choosing a new color for the walls of my sun room. That post, Fifty Shades of Beige, ended with this picture:

and the promise: To be continued…

Then one thing led to another, until yesterday, nearly six weeks later, the project was finished. I wouldn’t call it a total transformation, but I think it’s a very nice one.

So here’s what happened. First, I narrowed down my color choices to a more manageable group.

After a fair amount of holding paint chips against furniture, carpet, and trim—and quite a bit of agonizing—I narrowed it down to one. My color would be called sand. It’s not a poetic name by any means, but it’s a nice color.

Bill the painter came and did his magic. My friend, neighbor, and decorating consultant, Dee, came over before the paint was even dry. She gave it her stamp of approval. Then, as we sat and admired my walls, she asked if I had ever considered window treatments in the sun room.

No, I said, I hadn’t. I didn’t want to block any of the light pouring into the room. That was the whole idea of a sun room. There would be no drapes, not even valences, in that room.

I was just thinking that would make the room look more finished, more polished, warmer, she said.

I agreed to think about it, and she left. Of course, from then on, whenever I looked into the room, it looked… well… not quite finished, not quite polished, not quite warm.

And the decision process began again. What style of window coverings? Valances, scarves, panels? What fabric? What color? What kind of rods for them to hang on?

I did my Internet research, following up with visits to the stores to see how the colors actually looked. I bought samples, brought them home, returned them, started over. This was making the paint selection look easy in comparison.

Then, as they say, life got in the way. My mother had a mild stroke. I spent my days in the hospital, then in her rehab facility. I had no time or energy or interest in window treatments.

But Dee didn’t give up. And now I understand why that was a good thing. I very much needed to be distracted from life and death matters. I went back on the search for window treatments when I could find time.

Yesterday, it all proved worthwhile when my new drapes went up. I finally chose semi-sheer panels that let the light pass through. And Dee and Steve, who put up continuous decorative rods for me, arranged the panels so that almost no light is blocked.

Take a look. Here are my before and after pictures. I must warn you, the colors aren’t quite accurate. The room looks even prettier in person.

Before:

And after:

Before:

And after:

I love it, I love it, I kept telling them.

Then I made a fatal mistake. I mumbled something about flooring, perhaps laminate… And they were off and running.

Remembering My Dad, A Would-be Veteran

November 11, 2013

by Caryl Dierksen

comments 6

Mostly Musings

My father, Carl Dierksen, tried very hard to become a veteran. And I guess he technically would qualify as one, though he never claimed the honor.

He was 22 when he and my mother married in 1940. The following year, during World War II, he enlisted in the Army Air Corps, both to serve his country and to pursue his dream of becoming a pilot.

Dad reported to a base in Florida, where he had completed several weeks of basic training when he received the news that Mom’s father had died. As bad as that was, it got worse. Mom was an only child, and with her father gone, there was no one to operate the family farm outside of Davenport, Iowa.

Dad was given no choice. His commanding officer told him that his country needed him to be a farmer more than it needed him to be a soldier. He was given an honorable discharge and sent home.

So Dad, who grew up in town as the son of a house painter, became an instant farmer—without the benefit of any basic training. He would spend the next 30 years of his life as a farmer and a family man. He was good at both.

Dad was a humble man. He knew that a few weeks of training had not earned him any recognition on Veterans Day.

If he were still alive, Dad would be flying the flag today. He would be the first to shake a veteran’s hand and thank him or her. Dad might still be wondering if his life would have been different if he had been allowed to stay in the Air Corps.

He never forgot his dream of flying airplanes. When he was in his 50s, he earned his private pilot’s license. A few years later, he bought his own small plane.

Dad lived his last seven years in Woodstock, where he and Mom were my neighbors. I wish he had lived to see my Abbey and Maples at the Sonatas. He would have liked helping me move and doing projects around the house. And he would have always wanted to walk down the street to the place where you can still see a farm in the distance.

The Gates

November 4, 2013

by Caryl Dierksen

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Construction / Growth/Sales

There are several gauges that can be used to measure the growth of our community. The two most obvious are based on simple mathematics. What is the number of homes that have closed? What is the number of residents who call Maples at the Sonatas home?

But there is another measure too, a less precise, more symbolic one. And that is the progressive movement of the construction gates.

Until last week, there have always been two sets of gates—one at each of the boundaries of the developed area in our community. When I first began visiting here six years ago—if I remember correctly—the gates were only a couple of blocks apart. Since then, they have moved outward several times as Schumann Street and Handel Lane gradually filled with new homes. Last year brought a major advancement when Phase 2 opened and the Handel gates moved to Verdi, our third and final street.

With Phase 3 opening recently, the gates have moved for the final time. One set of them is gone all together. The other has moved as far out as possible, right to the edge of our property. If you look carefully at the picture above, you will see that the homes on the other side of the gates are not Epcon homes. They are in the neighboring subdivision.

In an upcoming post, we’re going to take a walk through Phase 3 and see what’s going on out there. In the meantime, if you are more comfortable with numbers than symbolic gates, here’s the mathematical gauge of our latest growth. As of today, we have 98 residents living in 63 homes.

Does that mean we are nearly built out? No. But we have passed the halfway point. The signs of growth are farther from me now, but they are there all the same.

Bloom Where You Are Planted

November 2, 2013

by Caryl Dierksen

comments 4

Mostly Musings

All summer long, a planter full of petunias and vinca vines sat on my patio. It was pretty for months, but as we got deeper into October, the plants grew long and scraggly and unattractive. Then they were nipped by frost.

And so, a few days ago, I decided it was time to let them go. I slid the planter away from the outside wall of my home and lifted it to carry over to our garden to dump the soil. As I was leaving, something caught my eye.

At first, I thought a flower had broken off when I moved the pot. But a closer look told another story. Some time during the summer, a single white petunia had leapt from the planter—or possibly had been seeded from another. However it happened, there is a healthy plant growing in the narrow crack between my patio and the wall.

This flower isn’t just surviving. It is blooming its heart out. And keeping it company is a single green vinca.

I find myself appreciating this late bloomer much more than I did the planter. Maybe it’s because my white petunia is an unexpected, late-season gift. Or maybe I admire its hardiness, as it thrives in harsh conditions.

Now, every morning, one of the first things I do is check on the petunia. So far, it has always been all right. Of course, I realize it’s only a matter of time until winter conditions overtake it. I will miss its cheerful greeting as I come and go. And I will miss its example of how to bloom wherever you are planted, even in the most unlikely of places.

Trick-or-Treaters

October 31, 2013

by Caryl Dierksen

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Neighbors

Look who just came trick-or-treating! Three of my favorite canine neighbors. Happy Halloween from Bam Bam, Oliver, Bandit — and me!

Final Construction Update for Building 3

October 31, 2013

by Caryl Dierksen

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Construction

It’s a gloomy, rainy Halloween here at Maples at the Sonatas. But the weather isn’t likely to dampen the spirits of the two couples who are closing on their new homes in Building 3 today. That’s right. A Canterbury and an Abbey are finished and ready to welcome their owners. The other two homes will be done in about two weeks.

Here are some of the finishing steps that have been completed in the last few days.

Driveways have gone in.

A couple of trees had to be moved to other locations.

Little things I barely think about had to be done. Gutters are important. House numbers are helpful. Blinds are good. Other than some sod, this looks like a finished home to me.

And it’s a good thing. See the truck in our parking lot? It’s waiting for a new set of owners to return from their closing and start moving in.

It’s been fun documenting the construction of this building. And I’ve learned a lot while doing it. If you’d like to review the process, here are my posts in time order: on June 22, on Aug. 19, on Sept. 3, on Oct. 20, and this one. Some day I might get ambitious and compile a slideshow of all of the photos.

So what’s next? If I miss the construction activity, I can easily find more of it. From where I’m sitting, I can look out my window and see the site of Building 7, the next quad to be built. Or I can look across the street from it and see a Promenade with a bonus suite that is going up. Or I can walk a short distance and find all kinds of building in all of the stages.

After all, we are just a little more than halfway built out. There’s still a lot more excitement to come!

Construction Update

October 20, 2013

by Caryl Dierksen

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Construction

I’ve fallen behind on my updates on the construction of Building 3, a quad being built next door to me. It’s not that I’ve lost interest. It’s more because so much of the action has moved inside.

From watching the contractors’ vehicles, I know a lot has been going on in there. I’ve spotted electricians, plumbers, gas company workers, HVAC men, dry wallers, painters, and, of course, building inspectors from the city. And I sure I’m leaving someone off this list. Like the fireplace guy.

For a while, I could keep up with the progress by walking through the building after the workers left for the day. I often ran into other curious neighbors doing the same thing, and none more interested than Jane. She and her husband are counting the days until they can move from their rental Villa, just three doors away, into their new Abbey. But once the garage doors and temporary front doors were installed, we were locked out.

To try to catch you up, here are three outside shots taken since my previous update. In this one, note the building has been wrapped, the windows have gone in, and the roofers are working.

And here, garage doors are installed, and a lot of trim work has been done. The siding covering the Tyvek homewrap is making it look more like a real home.

In this final shot, taken yesterday, you see the stone work going up. My cat and I enjoyed watching this worker fit the pieces into place, almost like he was doing a jigsaw puzzle.

Soon, three couples and a mother-daughter pair will be calling Building 3 home. And soon, my closeup view of home construction will be ending.

Fifty Shades of Beige

October 14, 2013

by Caryl Dierksen

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Home Elements/Decorating

Accent walls have been all the rage in my neighborhood the past year or so. First, they appeared in the professionally decorated model homes here at Maples at the Sonatas. The next thing I knew, they cropped up in a few of my friends’ homes. From there, the trend took off.

We visit each other’s homes, paint chips in hand. We ponder the endless shades and combinations. We exchange the business cards of our favorite painters.

I’m not sure who started it all, but I know who does it best. My neighbor, Dee, is a decorator extraordinaire and a sought after color consultant. Her home is a tasteful testament to the beautifying power of color.

Last spring, I was a late convert, one of the last to jump on the bandwagon. You see, I had always lived in small apartments and condos. I believed all of my walls had to be off-white to make the rooms look as large as possible.

So it took Dee a while to convince me to make the leap to accent walls. Gradually, I decided I could live with splashes of color, if they were muted colors. We strategized which walls to paint, beginning in the living room and ever so cautiously moving into the dining area and kitchen, and, at the last minute, the master bedroom.

Then came the hardest part—choosing the colors. Dee brought over her humungous collection of paint chips and strips and cards. There were literally hundreds of choices, many of them only minutely different from several others. If she hadn’t helped me narrow it down and finally choose THE color, I would still be dithering over a table full of paint chips.

Of course, I loved the results. Here are two of my favorite walls.

After a couple of months, I decided I needed an accent wall in my office, too. Once again, I was thrilled with the result, thanks to Dee.

Now I’m gearing up to do some painting in my sun room. And this time it won’t be one or two walls, but all four of them. Dee suggested I choose a shade of beige, something just a little darker than the color I have now. Something, to use her words, that will make my white blinds and trim “pop.”

“You have to be careful with beige,” Dee says. There are beiges that have yellow in them, and others with pinkish tinges and even some that can look greenish.

And I start to worry. How will I know which is a beige beige? I don’t want to get stuck with a pink beige or a yellow beige or a green beige.

Maybe I have so much trouble choosing colors because I’m a verbal, not a visual, person. I keep getting sidetracked by the names of the paint colors. How can I not fall in love with Believable Buff or Dapper Tan or Cracker Crumb?

Do I want my sun room painted in Sphinx or Nomadic Desert or Outerbanks?

No, wait. Here’s the one I want. Whispering Wheat. What a lovely name. Of course, the color is darker than I wanted, and it doesn’t work very well with my chairs. But still… The name sings to me.

I’d better check with Dee.

To be continued.

Author Visit Brings Butterfly Moment to Book Club

October 9, 2013

by Caryl Dierksen

comments 3

Neighbors / Social Life

…she came into my life softly and unexpectedly and briefly, but inspired a metamorphosis. – from The Butterfly Sister by Amy Gail Hansen

It was a banner day for our Maples Book Club—the biggest one in our two-year history. Nineteen women gathered around a large table—our guest author, Amy Gail Hansen; 16 members; another guest/prospective buyer; and our sales assistant, who came in on her day off. It was our largest turnout, our first visit from an author, and, in my teacherly opinion, our best-ever discussion.

The Butterfly Sister, Amy’s debut novel, was our featured book. Here is the summary of the story that appears on the back cover: “To uncover the truth about a friend’s disappearance, a fragile young woman must silence the ghosts of her past in this moving debut tale that intertwines mystery, madness, betrayal, love, and literature.”

Amy proved to be an ideal guest, with her enthusiasm, humor, and down-to-earth friendliness. Her teaching and drama experience were evident as she shared stories about writing the novel, finding an agent, and having it published by HarperCollins.

I would guess Amy enjoyed the afternoon as much as we did. Before it was over, she had answered our questions, joined in our discussion, posed for pictures, and signed copies of the book. Amy had a first too, when Doris asked her to sign the cover of the Nook that she had read the book on.

•••

For me, personally, it was an incredible experience that began in August when my copy of The Butterfly Sister arrived in my mailbox. I had read the first chapter online and couldn’t wait to see what came next. But first I made myself read Amy’s acknowledgments. And there, to my utter amazement, I found my name on a list of teachers she wished to thank. My name, there with those of teachers of all grade levels, even college professors.

Amy’s life and mine have intertwined several times over the years. We met when she was a student in my sophomore mythology class at Woodstock High School. Then she went to my alma mater, Carthage College. During her college years, we both spent a couple of summers writing for The Woodstock Independent. After graduating, she taught English at WHS for two years. Since then our lives have been on parallel paths until we reconnected recently at two book signings and our book club meeting.

I have the feeling I’ll be seeing Amy again. She arrived early yesterday so she could visit Home Sweet Abbey before the meeting. When she saw my newly redecorated office, she asked if she could reserve it for a writing retreat.

I love the idea! I hope that one day soon, she’ll set up shop in my office, while I write in my sun room office. I can imagine us both losing ourselves in our words and ideas and characters. Like butterfly authors, we will spread our wings and fly.

A Beautiful Place to Live

October 4, 2013

by Caryl Dierksen

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Pictures

A delightful surprise was waiting in my email this morning. Thanks to my neighbor, Lorraine, who was up early with her camera.

We awoke to lightning and rain this morning, then enjoyed the briefest burst of sun before the day turned cloudy and gray. Lorraine caught that fleeting moment of early-morning sun and was thoughtful enough to share it.

What a beautiful place to live, her message said. So gorgeous and peaceful.

I couldn’t agree more, and I think you will too.

Photo by Lorraine

Photo by Lorraine

You Can Go Home Again

September 19, 2013

by Caryl Dierksen

comments 2

Neighbors

This is another in my series of posts detailing how neighbors found their way to Maples at the Sonatas.

Thomas Wolfe’s book title was wrong. You CAN go home again. However, it may be a long, painful journey getting there. Just ask Gloria. She and her first husband spent 30 years in Woodstock. They worked here; they raised their family here; then they left to retire in Mountain Home, Ark.

She was happy there but missed being near her family. Then her husband passed away. After a while, she became bored and decided to get a part-time job.

Ken arrived in Mountain Home a year before Gloria did. He too moved there after retiring—at age 52, no less—from Racine, Wis. All was well at first, but then he also got bored.

Both applied for jobs at the new Super Wal-Mart opening in Mountain View. Both were hired, and they met during orientation. From the beginning, it was an interesting relationship. As Gloria explained, “I had been married forever; he had been single forever.”

And there was another way they differed. When the topic of marriage came up, Ken stated flatly that he had no interest in living in the north again. Gloria, on the other hand, had never lost her desire to return home.

In the ten years Gloria and Ken have been married, they have moved three times. Their first move was to Aiken, SC., where, Ken said, “We built a house to live in forever.” They were there two years.

With Gloria still feeling the pull of home, they put the house on the market. One week before the listing with their realtor expired, they received a full-price offer. At the same time, they learned that Gloria’s daughter in Texas had been diagnosed with cancer.

It wasn’t the right time to make a major move, especially one that would take them farther from Texas. But the offer on their home was too good to pass up. So they sold it and, not wanting to rent, bought another house a few blocks away in the same subdivision.

While they were living there, Gloria’s daughter tragically passed away. “I decided right then,” she said, “that anytime I have left, I want to be with my family.” In light of her loss, Ken agreed it was time to move to the Woodstock area, where Gloria’s two children and five of her six grandchildren live.

So they put the South Carolina home on the market during the big real estate downswing. They waited three long years for it to sell. During the final year, Gloria began making trips home to look at houses.

First, she searched in Lake Geneva, where she found three that she liked. For a while, Ken and Gloria had a contingent contract on one, but none of them worked out because their other home hadn’t sold yet.

Then Gloria looked at Sun City in Huntley. She and Ken even lived there for a two-week rental. After that they said, “We are absolutely going to live here.” But their house still hadn’t sold.

At that point, Gloria’s son spotted an article about Maples at the Sonatas in The Northwest Herald. They came to visit and, again, Gloria liked it. She was particularly taken with the Portico model. She came back and looked several times, deciding she liked the smallness and friendliness of the community. And Ken liked the idea of someone else doing the mowing and maintenance, which, he said, wouldn’t have been the case in Sun City.

Gloria wanted Ken to see The Maples, but he couldn’t get away at that time. So they drove to the nearest Epcon community in Savannah, Ga. He liked what he saw. They finally decided on the Maples, but still they waited for the house to sell.

Finally, after three years, it did. Because the deal moved quickly, they didn’t have a lot of time to choose their new home. They needed one that could be ready to move into almost right away. “Carol (Lyons) earned her retirement with us,” Gloria said. “She is one of the best realtors I’ve ever met.”

Gloria was so sure she wanted a Portico that she had never looked at the Promenade model. But there was not going to be a Portico available in their time frame, and they decided to go with the Promenade that was ready and waiting for them.

So we welcomed Ken and Gloria—after four homes in three states, and three moves in a decade. It took 14 years, but Gloria made it back home. Now, they vow, they are never moving again.

A Sunroom Without the Sun

September 15, 2013

by Caryl Dierksen

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Home Elements/Decorating

I love our rainy, dark weather this morning. It has been perfect for sleeping in, for slowly reading the Sunday paper, for sitting quietly and watching my cat doze. Sure, I won’t be as enamored of the rain if it drags into tomorrow, but just for now, I’m loving being home in my Abbey.

In so many ways, our Epcon homes are designed for sunlight. That’s probably one reason many of us fell in love with them. Early in my blog, I wrote about the pleasures of a sunroom in this post.

On a day like today, I’m still drawn to my sunroom. But, you may ask, what good is a sunroom when the sun isn’t shining? To me, it’s still an interesting, pretty, comfortable space.

I wasn’t particularly thinking of dreary days when I chose some of the accessories in my home. I was indulging my love for things that light up. These light-producing items are scattered throughout my home. A few minutes ago, I went from room to room, turning on everything and anything that lights up.

The harder it rains, the more I love it. Here is how my sunroom looks at this moment. I wish you were here to share it.

9/11

September 11, 2013

by Caryl Dierksen

comments 6

Mostly Musings

I remember.

I was teaching at Woodstock High School. Near the end of my first-period Sophomore Lit class, an assistant principal came to my door, handed me a memo, and left. The first sentence, in all capital letters, instructed us not to share it with our students. An all-school announcement would be made at the beginning of second hour. So I tried to keep a straight face as I read the earthshaking news. Of course, my kids knew something was wrong, but I couldn’t tell them what. When the announcement did come, one of my girls burst into tears. Her father worked at Sears Tower in Chicago, which was considered another possible target. I later learned he had been sent home early and was safe.

Everyone remembers.

Yesterday at my book club, I asked the group around the table for their stories. Some are more dramatic than others. All are heartfelt. Here they are.

That Tuesday was Judi’s day off work. She was in her p.j.s, watching Good Morning, America and saw the attacks as they happened. Like most of us, she was glued to the TV all day. She never got out of her pajamas.

Barb was working from home. She saw the earliest news reports when she logged onto AOL to email work to her office. She finished up as quickly as possible so she could just watch TV.

Ellie was home getting ready to go help her mother-in-law when her husband called and told her to turn on the TV. She went to her mother-in-law’s as planned, where the two watched TV together all day.

Gerry was at home also. She followed the news closely, worried sick about a close friend whose son worked at the Pentagon. Finally, the friend’s son was able to get through to his mother on the phone. He had been in the Pentagon when the plane hit, but he was not hurt.

Maureen was at home, planning to go visit her mother who lived 80 miles away. She usually didn’t watch TV in the mornings, but that day she had it on and saw it all. She, like so many, did not want to be separated from her loved ones. So when she went to see her mother, her husband went with her. On their drive, they passed O’Hare, staring at the eerie sight of the mammoth airport totally shut down.

Gloria was on the road that day too. She was on her way to Arkansas and would spend the entire day in her car. She had the radio on when the first plane hit the World Trade Center. But in the beginning, it was not clear that it was a terrorist attack. Thinking it was just a bad accident, she turned off the radio and put in an audio book. She listened to that book for hours. It wasn’t until she stopped for gas and found herself waiting in a long line that she asked someone what was going on and learned what had happened.

Lorraine was at work at All State, where radios and TVs were banned. She and her colleagues had to get the news by phone calls and word of mouth.

Carol worked in a lab that had no access to radio or TV. Her husband called to tell her what was happening. As the day went on, she and her colleagues would slip away to the cafeteria, the only place there was a TV.

Angie saw the attacks at home but then had to leave for work. There, she and co-workers kept up on the news by watching a tiny TV, the only one available.

Sue was teaching in a Crystal Lake middle school. One of her fellow teachers always had a radio playing softly in his room. So his students heard what was happening and went into Sue’s class talking about it. The principal did not want to announce anything to the students. Finally, when a teacher who went home for lunch came back with the full story, the teachers convinced the principal to turn on the TVs in the school. At that moment, the power went out. “We were so scared,” she said.

Sharon was teaching in a Lutheran elementary school 10 miles from the White House on 9/11. “It is still hard to talk about it,” she told us. The school secretary went to each room with the news. The stunned staff gathered all of the kids in the gym, where the principal gently told them what was happening. Then they prayed together. Children were crying. Some had parents working in the Pentagon. To make matters worse for Sharon, her husband worked in one of the tallest buildings in the area. Parents who came to pick up their children found themselves in a traffic nightmare as workers in the areas were sent home early. Sharon didn’t get home until 6:30 that night.

And those are our stories.

What do you remember?

Do Not Fear the Shared Wall

September 5, 2013

by Caryl Dierksen

comments 2

Construction / Home Elements/Decorating

The question often comes up when potential buyers visit my Abbey. It may come from folks who have always lived in single-family homes. Or it may come from someone looking to escape noisy neighbors in their current condo or apartment.

Is it always this quiet?

How much noise do you hear from your neighbors?

I try to reassure them, even though sometimes their expressions make me doubt they totally believe me.

It is quiet—always. Honest.

I don’t hear noise from my neighbors—ever. Honest.

I tell them about visiting Ollie in her Canterbury on the other side of our shared wall. She’ll ask, Did you hear Oliver barking while I was gone?

No, I’ll say.

Did you hear me playing my piano this morning?

No.

If that isn’t enough to convince the skeptics, I hit them with my best anecdote. I swear this is a true story. About a year after I moved in, one of my smoke detectors malfunctioned. Soon all five of them were blaring. My poor cat dove under the bed. I walked around with my hands over my ears.

I must also tell you this happened on a Sunday afternoon during a Bears-Packers game. Given that, I despaired of finding anyone to help me. But I did what I always do when I have a problem. I called Ollie.

I’m sorry about all the noise, I shouted.

What in the world is going on over there? How long has it been like that?

Did you catch that? Ollie wasn’t aware of the ear-splitting racket until she heard it through the phone. Our shared wall had protected her until I called. She suggested a neighbor who generously came over during the game—the Bears were losing big-time anyway—and quieted the detectors.

•••

I’ve always appreciated what our shared wall does for me, but this week I became curious about how it works. As the quad next to me goes up, I’ve watched the framers install yellow sheets of insulation where the shared walls will be. That layer, which you will note goes all the way to the roof, is fireproof. Here is how the shared wall begins:

I had planned to describe the other components of the shared wall. But like so many things in life, it turned out to be more complicated than I expected. Rather than get something wrong, I’ll just show you the plan. (Thanks to Bob for providing this and answering my questions.)

Note the multiple layers. They include another type of insulation to provide the soundproofing. And this surprised me. One of the most important components of the shared wall is plain old air. It helps deaden sound and vibrations.

One last thing to notice: the entire shared wall sandwich is 10.5 inches thick. No wonder it works so well.

So, buyers, if you have your heart set on an Abbey, a Canterbury, or another Epcon attached home, remember this: There is nothing to fear about the shared wall.

The Big Frame-Up

September 3, 2013

by Caryl Dierksen

comments 5

Construction

It’s time for a construction update. Today I’d like to check in with another progress report on Building 3, the quad going up next door to me.

The past week has been all about framing. In a sense, this step is the opposite of the foundation stage, which took a long time with not that much dramatic progress. Framing, on the other hand, is relatively fast and visually exciting.

Here is a photo from a few days ago, part way through the framing.

Today was my all-time favorite day in the construction process. The crane came to lift the roof trusses into place. Shortly after 7 a.m., this was my view.

Here is a closer look at the work going on.

The crane reaches high enough into the air that it is visible from our entire community, as well as streets surrounding us. This process always draws a lot of interest from passersby. Among those who came to watch were my neighbors, Glenn and Shirley, and their granddaughters, all of whom posed for a picture.

In an earlier post, I described the setting of trusses in more detail. If you’d like to see those photos again, you will find them here.

Let’s end with this brief, amateur video of the crane lifting one truss into place this morning. I am still amazed by the skill of the crane operator and the workers.

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