home(t)raveling 3.0: week 140

the Staircase strikes back!

This post will BRIEFLY* present the cosmetic transformation of the upper section of the staircase, which happened after we split it halfway up to the second floor. Would you be interested in the first part of the process, check this recent post (in Spanish). Would you NOT be interested in it at all, just check the pics below to get an idea of how it was (i) before, (ii) when Wallis discovered the 2 side-cabinets were rotten and falling apart**, (iii) halfway building the mezzanine and divider and (iv) after completing the job. Then kindly scroll down to discover what it looks like now...

(i) before, (ii) Wallis smashing down the 2 rotten side-cabinets, (iii) halfway building the mezzanine and divider and (iv) with the job done.

So, first thing first, we changed/replaced the window's lintel: it was so absolutely rotten and eaten by wood bugs there was literally no wood left. You know the Swiss paradox about Swiss cheese? No? It goes like this, the hole, the cheese: "the more cheese, the more holes, and the more holes, the less cheese". Same here! It only took a screwdriver, a gloved hand and 5 min to get rid of the whole piece (although evidence suggests a chisel and hammer were used). We were lucky enough that the whole stone wall above didn't fall. Looked like it wouldn't, though... Then we basically measured the size of the replacement piece, went to the wood stock (not the festival! our salvaged wood library aka matériauthèque) and dug for an appropriate piece we cut, sanded and treated. We actually did with 2 pieces, so the back one would add more strengh and just cover up the outer window's frame over about a centimeter.

cautiously removing the lintel ; done! ; cutting up the new one ; the back piece ; the front piece ; with the plasterboard job done.

With the lintel replaced, we took a deep breath, then finished to remove the old plaster, loose pieces and paint flakes until these old walls looked clean-ish. Instead of spending hours plastering them even, nice and new, we decided to go the easy way (forgive us, purists of all Laws!). We stuck plasterboards with chunks of adhesive plaster. Although we first thought we'd leave the bricks at sight around the window, it seemed difficult and time-consuming for a maybe not-so-nice result. So we rebuilt everything with plasterboard, filled the gaps and grooves with filling plaster, sanded, put some jointing band and filler, sanded, applied the finishing filler, sanded, chased the cracks, sanded, and so on...

the plasterboard job done ; the filling put in perspective (aka seeing the big picture...) ; the staircase with its new, bright white, ceiling!

Last but not least, and not without some interesting high-ladder and rope-access-like acts, everything was primed and painted in the colourful way: bright white for the false ceiling, the same light beige as the rest of the staircase for the walls. Ah, and of course, we could finally (after over a year) add the skies' blue to the crops' green of the first mid-floor, so as to complete this little tribute of ours to Vincent's 1890 masterpiece - Wheatfield under thunderclouds...

During ; Before (again) ; and After: the genesis of our "Wheatfield under thunderclouds" staircase. Call us freaks, we love it! :)

Well, that'll be it for today!

Take care, enjoy the spring-to-come

And we'll see you soon,
Big hugs to y'@ll
W. T.  & F.

an old batten from the barn's roof gets a second life: cleaned, sanded and waxed!

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* as in: I EFFING DON'T HAVE TIME TO WRITE THOSE SAME OLD ENDLESS/POINTLESS POSTS ANYMORE!!!

** she was just slightly and recently pregnant back then, but would have said? Well, we knew it, of course...And wondered whether anybody would notice when we first published this pic on a previous episode...

home(t)raveling: the side projects

 #4 - a steel & wood bookshelf for the livingroom

the desperately empty-looking dining-room, without a bookshelf. Sigh*

We're back today with a new side project for this never-ending home renovation of ours! Like the previous ones (check our previous home(t)raveling: the side projects #3, #2 and #1 respectively, clicking on the links), this project has been on our minds for quite a while now. I mean, look at this living-and-dining-room: what does it lack? a couch? well, not only! curtains? well, also. a giant TV screen? maybe not... a big, nice, kickass bookshelf? yes, thank you! The thing is: we never imagined we would end up doing it ourselves! We needed some shelving for the living-room. To put some books and CDs, plus some objects we like for the memories they carry and such...

So, basically, we wanted our bookshelf to:

 - reach the ceiling (the sky is the limiiiit, woooh!) to store a lot of our stuff, while allowing some "void" in between, and for stability too (impossible to anchor in the hempcrete wall) => tailor-made for the room and with a tight fit.
 - be "thin" enough, that is to say, not too dense visually to allow some hemplime seethrough => metal structure preferable. also cool because the stove, on the other side of the room is another nice black cast-iron thing.
 - still have wood shelves because, ye know, we like wood and it's cool if it can sort of match the kitchen island, homemade barstools and firewood bench => we designed what we had in mind and we'll see what to do next.

our project's final sketch with figures and storage capacity ; the four finished frames just back home ; the first try-and-set into position!

Look: we first thought we'd hire somebody to build it for us, from our design. Asked for quotes, got some 1500+ euro ones, said thanks and jumped to option 2: we'd pay for a welder to build the metal frames with our design, then do the rest ourselves. Asked for quotes, divided by two, still couldn't afford it, said thanks and did nothing since we had no option 3 to jump to. Until our dear R. appeared and offered to solve the equation: he'd get all the 4x40mm x6-meter steel slats we needed at cost price, take Futuna to a friend of his' metal workshop, help with the cutting, grinding, sanding and drilling with professional machines, then teach Futuna how to weld and mentor him through the process! Ah, not to mention, there was a "funny little detail" here: our hempcrete wall leant backwards, as stonewalls often do because they get thinner as they grow higher. Consequently, the ladder frames couldn't bear straight angles. We needed to weld every single horizontal piece at a 87,5º angle. To make things more entertaining! This, R. solved in no time. Engineers: they know how to deal with sh--! It's a pity we don't have pics from this crazy, busy and amazing day at the workshop (cause it was crazy and busy, you know?), but here's what we brought back home the same evening.

testing the ladder frames in situ and, meanwhile, finally (at last!) putting up the power heater on the wall under the window, just in case...

We knew where to put each of the ladders, as the width and height of each section was set beforehand - that's the thing with welding at a workshop 20km from home: either you do it all at once or... you need to drive back there again! Since the back wall was not a solid anchoring option, we needed an alternative. Of course, with the shelves leaning against a gentle slope, we trusted the structure would already be stable enough once loaded. But we sure didn't want a toddler, a kid, or even a person to climb, grab or pull a shelf, eventually being crushed under the whole thing! So we decided to: 1- anchor it in the ground with 10mm expansion bolts. Two pieces on each of the four ladders, to prevent them from falling to the front and 2- screw the top of the ladders with plasterboard anchors/pegs. Of course, these aren't meant to hold the weight of the structure from a 13mm plaster sheet! They'll just work at a 90º angle, to avoid any swinging of the top of the ladders in any direction. So finally, the whole thing is leaning against the wall, strongly anchored from the ground and just kept still from the top. I think we're ready to try'n'put some shelves and some load!

the ground, the drill and the expansions: before, during and after - with an beautiful, old, solid oak board salvaged from the barn*...

From there, things went pretty fast: measuring and marking the laminated oak boards, cutting them, sanding them, rounding the edges, treating and protecting them with antiquaire's beeswax, then finally working our way up the frames, screwing all shelves into position. Last piece of work was to improvise and build some little bridges, half-levels and stoppers with as many of the offcuts as we possibly could... Below are a couple of pics of the process, then pics of the most enjoyable part of it all: getting to some old cardboard boxes, some of them taped 7 years ago before we left Barcelona, digging in them to get some books, CDs and objects that mean a lot for us... Filling these shelves with our stuff we've lived very happy without for long, may seem pretty futile, but it's a lovely, enjoyable thing to do! It's also - mostly, maybe? - an opportunity to remember places, moments, stories, cities and circumstances...

building up the shelves ; waxing ; ready to put some load ; let the music play! ; almost there... ; with a little help from our friends ; coffee break!

Conclusion: we're really happy and proud of the way our bookshelf finally came out. Welding was fun, and only made possible by the amazing Tiercin sculpteur's fantastic help and mentoring. Thank you so much!

But we're even happier that these shelves can display some beautiful pieces of art and cratmanship from dear friends of ours: a warm thought for the beautiful souls who wrote that book, drew these pictures, sculpted that face or designed those loudspeakers: many many thanks to Mirko, Xavier, Riki, Mercè, Gonzalo and Blackspot Acoustics for walking part(s) of the way with us and leaving such beautiful footprint(s) along our path(s)...

So, with these and other friends on our minds, whose love and inspiration make our lifes a little bit brighter everyday (and since we're still on time for the new year words - look at that cool cue!), there's no better opportunity to wish you all a beautiful, wonderful and happy 2020!

Take care andLove to you all!
W., T. and F.

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About this beautiful, old, solid oak board salvaged from the barn: it was basically an abandoned pigeons' toilet buried in a corner ; pretty much looked like sh-- and was ready to go to the junk yard. But it was so freakin' heavy we immediately suspected it was gold! After grinding it for about 5 minutes, we retrieved this:

 

home(t)raveling 3.0: semana 115

 ¡feliz, feliz no cumpleaños! (1)

Hace unos días, un servidor cumplió 41 años y dentro de nada, una beba cumplirá un añito ya. ¡Qué bien! y ¿cómo vuela, no? Este proyecto loco y hermoso a la vez lleva 115 semanas acaparando la integralidad de nuestro tiempo, de nuestra energía, de nuestros recursos (físicos y económicos) así como gran parte de nuestra salud mental... Ggglhkfh!

la buanderie encaminada hacia poner las tomettes de noche y de una puñetera vez!

Sin más demora, pues: ¡Renovadores, alehop! Os proponemos para todos los (no)cumpleaños del día de hoy una pequeña actualización del tema: buanderie - que, en castellano y aunque no lo tenga del todo claro, debería ser algo como la ¿bugadería? o mejor el ¿lavadero? Me murmullan por acá que en catalán, en tot cas, es diu: el safreig.

Bueno. Pues para explicarlo en sencillo, es esta habitación que cruza "la ruina" y separa el recibidor de abajo con el lado del jardín. ¿O más bien habría que decir que los conecta? Allí instalamos ya el calentador de agua, un water de batalla (que quitaremos en un futuro - sí sí, se lo prometí a Wallis!), una pica grande recuperada de la antigua cocina (que cumple justamente la función de lavadero) y la lavadora. Aunque no es - ni ha sido nunca - nuestra prioridad, el plan es de ir renovando este lugar poco a poco, del suelo al techo y sin olvidar las paredes. Todo esto para poder, algún día, guardar en estantes grandes la ropa y el material de montaña: mochilas, tienda, trastos de escalada, abrigos... También la ropa y las botas de jardín, unas cuantas cositas que no sabemos bien bien dónde guardar (almacen de botes y botellas de cristal), el reciclaje corriente (papel, cartón, vidrio, envases) y finalmente todo lo relacionado con la lavadora, ropa sucia, detergentes y productos de limpieza. En fin, pa' qué complicarlo? una buanderie de toda la vida!

en las primeras semanas: el micro-taller montado ; las puertas hacia el jardín ; el burinator alquilado para petar el plancher: bat-bat-bat-bat-bat.

El suelo lleva MUCHO tiempo a medio hacer, así que fue un gran alivio dedicar tiempo y energía para finalmente terminar de colocar y fijar las baldosas "tomettes" recuperadas de casa de C. y L.! Nos costaba por una tubería de recolección de aguas de lluvia que cruza justo debajo del nivel del suelo y nos llevó a seguir una leve bajada desde el jardín hacia la casa. Contra-intuitivo por si llueve mucho algún día y entra agua, pero lógico con nuestra voluntad de que la planta baja fuera un espacio adaptado para sillas de rueda, cochecitos y demás... Conservamos el último tercio del plancher de hormigón hacia el jardín con el plan de montar un tabique y cerrar la habitación en este punto. Al otro lado, la puerta doble que da al jardín es un trasto arreglado con capas y capas de chapuza, todo pintado y repintado con pintura al plomo: nos lo tendremos que quitar de encima tarde o temprano y cuanto antes mejor. Además, nos interesa dejar una especie de "sas" abierto y cubierto delante, para tener la puerta protegida un poco más adentro. Así será fácil dejar ropa de abrigo mojada, botas sucias, paraguas empapado, y almacenar algo de leña cortada...

las tomettes colocadas, niveladas  y alineadas ; el encofrado y el relleno para la rampa ; la rampa con el hormigón recién vertido.

Por enésima vez, volvimos a colocar las tomettes sobre una capa de arena tan regular y plana como pudimos, para definir la posición y el tamaño finales de la rampa. Montamos un encofrado muy basto que rellenamos con grava y piedras, procurando seguir una pendiente contínua. Y sin más pensar (que pensar é mu' malo: luego te entran dudash y no te atrevesh por si la vash a cagar), le tiramos una carretilla de hormingón de cemento portland y grava, con una pizca bolsa entera de pigmento ocre. También reservamos el espacio para una reja de evacuación de aguas, justo donde la tubería aquella, con el plan de petarla un poco más adelante, para así tener un desagüe justo abajo de la rampa, por si las moscas susmencionadas inundaciones. Ya que eso va a la recolección de aguas de lluvia, no fregaremos este suelo con productos que no sean ecológicos. O mejor dicho, procuraremos no tirarle agua por allí...

¡ole ole! tras mucho dudar, sufrir, posponer y procrastinar, finamente colocamos y montamos las baldosas: con una de cal y una de arena.

Pegamos las baldosas con el "método tradicional", es decir sobre una capa de cal y arena, echándole por encima puños de cal y de arena. Las baldosas tienen que estar muy empapadas de agua, así cuando las vas golpeando suavemente para que se coloquen bien en su sitio, chupan por capilaridad la mezcla de cal y arena de debajo y quedan bien fijadas. Luego, se tiran pequeñas cantidades de agua, forzando el mortero líquido en las juntas entre las baldosas. Hay que encontrar el momento idóneo para limpiar la superficie con esponja y mucha agua clara, sin joder el trabajo y sin esperar demadiado, ya que la cal tiende a pegarse mucho en las baldosas y es un rollo de limpiar... Despues, se deja secar bien todo esto unos días o una semana, procurando pisar lo menos pos no pisar na' de na'!

para hoy, nos quedaremos en esto (1) ; ahora, "tan solo" nos falta: (2) rellenar el tabique con ladrillo y (3) terminar de picar el muro de piedra.

- Importante: Mensaje del futuro - 

Con la libertad que nos da el formato de blog, les podemos adelantar visiones del futuro y revelar cosas que todavía no han pasado. A principios de este otoño 2019, pensábamos que cerrar la buanderie y terminar de picar el muro de piedra para luego rehacer las juntas con cal, sería cuestión de 1 mes o 2.

Ja ja ja! Ingénuos! Imaginábamos que para noche vieja, ya se podría bailar y comer la uvas allí!

Bueno, os dejamos aquí un testimonio gráfico del avance del proyecto dos años después, en nuestro gran mes de celebración de cumples, pero el del 2021... Ya verán en los próximos artículos que si la buanderie no evolucionó en este tiempo, igualmente hicimos cosas. ¡No nos apalancamos, eh!

Pero a veces, la obra tiene su ritmo propio y lo más sensato es dejarse llevar. Así que el baile y las uvas serán para noche vieja 2021. ¿O no?

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