Not So Grand Designs

Skeleton Staircase

2010-07-26T20:29:00.025+10:00

A thousand years ago, or seven months, or whatever it was, I posted RoofSpace Dilemma in which I briefly touched on the trauma we worked through to make key decisions centering around our use of space to create a Dining Room and Attic. These were hard decisions to make when we had little more than our imaginations to work with. It was difficult to imagine not only the final appearance but the usability, the coherence with the rest of the house and the effect on traffic – and thus use of rooms.

The decision to build a winding staircase that tucked into the end of the dining room had many points against it, at first glance. The biggest perceived problem with the whole idea was the low entry point between attic edge and ceiling. The maximum height there is about 3’ 8” (1 metre or so). But it was argued that as the attic wasn’t exactly generous in height at in any area, and would thus be most likely used for a storage area or – better – a kid’s room, a small entry point could almost be counted more an attraction than detraction. The idea of developing the room for kids actually turned that issue into a positive point.

Then we began calculating, and we realised we had to address another potential problem: the height we had to span versus the length of space we had available, versus the local council regs regarding staircase grades. These were crowding each other so much that at first they seemed the write the staircase off. But once we added winder steps in, top and bottom, instead of calculating in terms of one straight flight, it began to appear possible again. There were protests about how steep the stairs would be, but these were overruled with the reminder that we were developing this with kids in mind and that a balustrade down the side and a bar across the window at the bottom would make it quite safe. The narrow dimensions were also predicted to make things manageable.

And then the question of access into the room behind arose. A door under the top of the staircase was immediately suggested by one of the more romantically minded, but it took some very practical fast talking to persuade the builder of this idea’s sense and potential.

As no other staircase option beat this one, the Winding Staircase was begun.

At the end of November, 2007, Slick began framing up.

The above photo was taken from within the existing kitchen, facing out into the dining room. (This is a good example of the few pics I have of the tile floor while it was still new.) The location of the future top winders, or corner stairs, is made visible by the diagonal timber, while the bottom winders can just be glimpsed to the left hand of the photo. (Winders are those triangular stairs that step up as they wind around a central point, such as on a spiral staircase.) The new doorway comes through the left hand wall, under the highest part of the stairs. (The pale corner of the threshold can be seen contrasting with the pine floorboards.)

Then a month passed. I believe we were very busy as a family (being the big Aussie end of school year / Christmas lead up) and that Dad had a lot of work on. For whatever reasons, the next photos in the record that relate to stairs don’t appear for another month. At this point the pressure was beginning to be felt. Not only were we expecting a friend to be staying overnight on Christmas Eve, we were also looking forward to Dad’s parents arriving from Canada soon after Christmas to stay for a month or so. You remember our house plan and the size of our family? Nine people in a little two bedroom house in the midst of a full-blown renovation doesn’t leave much space or sanity. The prospect of two more was a spicy challenge.

But, with just that little extra space that an attic offered, possibilities emerged. We calculated that if we could finish the stairs so we could finish the attic (at least to liveability), we could put Mum and Dad there and give the grandparents Mum and Dad’s bedroom (the only private space in the house apart from the bathroom).

By the 20th of December, the date of the below photo, we were feeling the pressure...

This photo is of Mum standing at the top of the stairs (which I conclude must have been completed since the framing up a month before). I just draw attention to the area around her feet. Her right foot is on the top step/attic floor; beyond her foot is a white area. That is actually looking through into the upper corner of the lounge room!

In this photo the bottom of the completed stairs can be seen. (The bottom three stairs were built a good while before the rest, actually.) As you can also see, gyprock has been put on the face of the stairwell and the power-points are installed and hooked up to electricity. Blick is in the process of plastering.

I thought it only fair to show you the area the stairs led to! This photo was taken the same day as the photo above, January 7th, 2008. This period was just prior to the Grandparents arriving, so the shelving details were being finished off before we moved Mum and Dad up into their new bedroom. Apart from the shelves and the palings above the shelving area, this is the stage we managed to get the attic to by Christmas Eve, in time for our guest. It had been a close thing, though; I think we had packed up tools an hour or so before we expected him. (And then he forgot to come! Classic anticlimax.)

The top winders turning around the top baluster onto the attic floor.

The black plastic ahead was eventually replaced with an unassuming door that now gives us our official access into the roof-space.

On the top right the ceiling can be seen to continue. That area is our storage space, a two metre square area that houses all our spare things – you know, board games, sleeping bags, spare bedding, dress-ups and so-on. The vertical palings on the right are actually one of the two doors that conceal that area, folded down.

Speaking of the ceiling, I’ve no better place to tell you about it since we didn’t see fit to take photos at the time we installed it. Originally (see second photo in this post), there was just bare roof iron (aluminium, actually) and rafters. We tacked foil-backed insulation in between the rafters (foil down) and then black plastic under that. The plastic is to help prevent the fibres of the insulation from coming through. Then over the plastic we stretched the light canvas and fastened it in place by nailing strips of timber down the lengths of the rafters. (This can be seen to better effect in the attic photo.) As the maximum height in the attic is about 5’3”, we had decided a soft ceiling was the way to go. (Yes, sorry, I am Australian, but I think in imperial terms when measuring spaces that are around a person’s size. Put it down to me being half Canadian. In metric terms, about 1.4 metres?) But more on this on my attic post, perhaps.

Hope you don’t suffer vertigo!

I’m so glad we did install that window at the bottom of the stairs, hazard or not. It not only sheds constant light on the stairs, it also helps keep the air moving (especially in summer!) and creates a lovely sunny nook that many people enjoy, particularly during winter lunch breaks.

I expect the lack of balustrade – on top of the steepness and narrowness , plus a window at the bottom – makes the staircase seem rather insecure, to be polite. However, the tightness of space and the attic floor being conveniently to hand combined to make negotiation of the stairs quite comfortable and safe. We were quickly thundering both up and down without a second thought. We became so used to it that once the balustrade was finally installed the staircase suddenly seemed almost claustrophobic! Socks were the main security risk. (But no serious injury to date.)

Showing you the other side of the staircase – the side sticking into the room that had been a kitchen, and in fact was still the washing up area. (The stove and everything was already over in the new kitchen.) Eventually, though, this room was to become a bedroom. By the way, the photo was taken to record Tlick putting up gyprock after having insulated the bathroom wall. The no-more-nails glue is, strictly speaking, unnecessary; however, as we always say, ‘Better safe than sorry’! Plastering isn’t that fun.

A wide shot of the stairs from the dining room.

Grandma and Llick painting.

Aha! And this photo, taken January 31, features Blick, plastering the underbelly of the staircase. Blick learned to plaster on this staircase/room, probably the most difficult area to plaster in the house. She deserves a medal for perseverance, if nothing else.

I wanted to show you how the doorway works with the staircase. As you can see, the stairs overlap the doorway by two thirds and the horizontal surface (the bit Blick is working on) doesn’t extend far before angling down. This meant that the door ended up hung so that it opens outward and lies flat along the wall to the right. (And that reminds me: the doorway is actually narrower than is conventional, so a door was custom made for the space. In design it is similar to the bathroom doorway.)

The bottom of the staircase underbelly ends in a little storage area under the bottom winders. This we’ve mainly used for storing the vacuum.

And that’s it! You are officially introduced to our Winding Staircase.

Dining in Style - Floor and Ceiling on Display

2010-07-20T21:42:00.000+10:00

Well, here are my photos of The Tiles. Since I just took them, you'll have to keep in mind that there is a leap of three years happening between posts. (So things like stair wells and light fittings and tiny little leadlight windows into upper levels and such will have to be ignored!)

This floor was actually refinished about eighteen months ago because the original concrete crumbled heavily around the edges - especially along the join between concrete and timber that can be partially seen in the lower left corner of the above photo. Traffic over these two tiles is particularly high. But we refined our technique, innovating boldly, as usual, and used a large proportion of tile cement. This cement has much more flexibility and has consequently worn much less. The pale blotches that can be seen in the above photo are areas that we will soon patch again, but they are nothing in comparison to the first time round. These ones have been caused mainly by regular scraping by chair legs.

From three years on, I guess it is appropriate to report that the concrete has really worked well all round (even if it did have some hitches at first). It is always a little cooler than anywhere else in summer, yet it is usually warmer than the timber floors in winter even after a night without a fire. (And the temperature can drop to minus seven in winter here. Mind you, not inside our house - any more.) The tiles have also worked reasonably well for a high traffic, hard wearing zone and for an eating area. Occasionally we've had to scrub a bit more to get food substances off, the concrete being more porous than your average linoleum, and it can be quite dusty. However, it absorbes moisture faster than our polished timber floors and can be classified overall 'easy maintenance'. Three cheers for Slick's innovative Tiles!

I thought I would also take the opportunity to show you the ceiling of the Dining Room, as we failed to take any photos at the time of construction.

Consisting entirely of untreated old palings, the neutral greys create a quietly dramatic contrast to the oiled post and beam framework.

I hope you don't get sea-sick looking at the photos. Often this ceiling attracts attention because of the tricks the pattern can play with people's perception. Despite appearances, the ceiling truly doesn't go up and down; it really is flat parallel to the floor!

I believe this was the first use of palings in the house. We have never regretted it in any way.

Yes, those are the leadlights you're supposed to be ignoring. Obviously they lead into an room above the Dining Room, so I'll just finish up by telling you how we completed the ceiling.

Palings look great - but many of them are not up to bearing an adult's direct weight. (Not by the time we get them.) Distributed weight is a different matter, however. After laying black plastic (and tacking it with staples) on top of the palings, we screwed down sheets of plywood. Four, to be exact, and all lifted into the room before we closed the last section of ceiling.

And plywood the floor remains, to this point. By the time we added furniture (hold your horses, you'll see!) little of the floor could really be seen, so it has not been seen necessary to do more with it, though paint and tiles (conventional ones) have been suggested.

However, the Attic is a different story and a different post ...

Tiling...With A Twist

2010-07-06T15:01:00.008+10:00

November 7th. Time to level the floor between old bathroom area, current lounge area and current kitchen. Time to create a room.

Llick takes her turn at the jarring end of the crow-bar, chipping horrible pink tiles off what used to be the outdoor veranda floor, preparatory to creating our own tiles.

Slick installs the frame for our new floor.

Framed up. Notice that the floor-frame ends between the green drill and the vacuum? We decided to move the wall behind the vacuum forward to the edge of the just-installed floor frame, making that section of floorspace (that the vacuum is on) part of the kitchen-to-be. Confused? Don't worry, it should all become clear eventually. Maybe...

Looking the other direction. We were wrapping the timbers in plastic to protect the pre-applied finish from the concrete and mess. It was annoying. Notice how the floor drops suddenly in the foreground and then slopes steadily away to the furthest corner? I guess, since the bigger section used to be a veranda, they wanted the drainage more than a level surface.

This photo shows the higher level, where the bathroom used to be. (The hole in the middle ground was the sink drain.)

New tiles, here we come. Yes, you are seeing a pile of gravel in the house, and no, we aren't kidding. We were about to create concrete tiles, divided by finished treated pine timbers, for our dining room floor.

This floor, if it worked, would accomplish several things: It would be a great for collecting heat in winter, being on the north face of the building and under big windows, or deliciously cool in summer, since it heats slowly; it would provide another visual cue to delineate the room; it would provide a reasonably sensible and hopefully hard wearing surface for a dining room; and it would be a floor that we could create ourselves without too much trouble or expense.

Mixing and spreading on the spot. Gravel, sand, cement, oxide for colour and water.

Fun stuff! Adult mud pies...

And a surprise ending, just to finish off, because guess what? We didn't take photos of the finished product! By next post (which should this time be much sooner than six months hence) I will hopefully have some pics of the finished floor.

Post and Beams

2010-01-04T20:06:00.003+11:00

These photos were taken on the same day as the photos displayed in the previous post. It was the first of November, 2007.

In the above photo, taken from the lounge room, you can see the beginning of the process we were undertaking. Slick had measured and cut all the posts and beams, and screwed down the posts along the window wall. Up on our new scaffolding rested the long beam that would soon sit in its place on top of those posts. This beam, though it is hard to see in these photos, has holes cut ready for the shaped ends of the cross beams.

(Above) Here Slick and I look as though we are lazing around, but I assure you that it is better to plan rather than rush into something and make stupid mistakes or even get hurt. 'Process, process!' is our catch-cry. Besides, we were psyching ourselves up for the effort ahead!

(Above) Here I am taking down the header beam that had been over the entryway into the dining room (or verandah, depending on how far back you want to go). As you can see, with the header up, part of the dividing wall remains between dining and lounge area. We had to remove that in order to put in place the new structure.

(Above) This time we are looking away from the kitchen, toward the area the bathroom used to inhabit. In the top left of this photo you can see that the long beam is in place along the top of the windows. The timber on top of the scaffolding is supporting the first cross beam. You can see the shaped 'peg' at the end, ready for the other end beam.

(Above) This photo is looking back toward the new bathroom (door on right) and kitchen (behind curtain on left), along the surface of the lower scaffold platform. The end beam is resting ready to be hammered onto the ends of the waiting cross beams.

(Above) The end beam half on.

(Above) The end result. Thank God for giving us that scaffolding, as it would have been much, much harder and way more dangerous without it.

RoofSpace Dilemma

2009-12-31T17:46:00.003+11:00

A few days after the happenings of the last post, Slick opened up the empty ceiling space over the dining room. The kitchen question had been decided, but the dining one remained. In other words, the whereabouts of the kitchen-to-be had been resolved, but whether to have a cathedral ceiling over our eating area had not.

The eventual destination of the kitchen was to be, technically, over the area previously occupied by the toilet room. This satisfied council requirements regarding preexisting plumbing, while also allowing us to use the 'pink bedroom', or north eastern corner room for our eventual kitchen. (May I just add that we are all SO glad that this is the way it worked out. The abundance of natural light in that kitchen is such a joy.) A wall, it was therefore decided, would be erected basically where the original wall had divided the toilet room from the shower/vanity room, partially cutting off the kitchen from the dining room area. The stove would stand on the concrete slab left over from the toilet room.

Part our deliberations regarding the dining room involved our wish to work with the principle that different ceiling heights help subtly divide spaces and indicate their uses. The theory was that if we had a higher ceiling above the dining room, it would delineate that area as different and separate from the lounge room. Another aspect we were juggling was energy in the forms of light and heat. If you remember reading an old post on the ideas and plans (read 'Exterior Philosophies') we had in the early days, you will recall that we played with the idea of lifting the roof height all along the ridge pole and putting in a second story. Like so:

But by this time we knew we didn't have the time and money necessary to make this possible. We had not, however, ruled out putting windows in the gable to let extra light and heat through. We were already decided that the concrete floor of the dining/bathroom area was an ideal passive solar heat sink, so more windows seemed a good idea. However, several considerations had to be taken into account. The biggest was represented by the major beams running the nearly the width of the building. Structurally, a cathedral ceiling was impractical. We also worked out that not much usable light could be collected through the gable.

(Above and below): Slick opening up the ceiling over the dining room.

As can be seen above, the only remaining ceiling area is above where the toilet room was.

Home education within a home renovation.

The show must go on.

And then someone brought up the idea of an attic area, again. Why not go the opposite direction from a cathedral ceiling and instead drop the ceiling height over the dining room, granting just enough height for a legal (and maybe even usable) room above? This was a prospect most beautiful and dazzling to our entire romantic, space-starved family. In fact, the idea captured our hearts, but also made its discussion the more stressful. Some considered the idea just romantic, wishful, impractical thinking; most thought it wonderful and didn't really care about practical details as they essentially weren't their problem; others thought it a great idea and overflowed with creative ways to make it work (some of which were cause for some anxiety). The main problem with the attic idea was the necessity of access - ie, a staircase - and the distinct lack of floorspace. A spiral staircase was the most popular suggestion, but then where on earth would we put it? Put it underneath the attic and there would hardly be any floorspace upstairs; put it out in the lounge and it would majorly interrupt traffic flow and visual continuity. As principles, practicalities and personal wishes mixed within the key players, stresses mounted with each discussion. But gradually we worked it through and some decisions came to be made.

Firstly, we decided to scrap the cathedral ceiling idea and instead lower the ceiling to about the height of the top of (what was then) the current doorway beam. (See photo above.)

Secondly, we decided to frame the extended dining room (which would include all the previous bathroom area except the toilet room) with post and beams, helping to delineate that area as separate from the lounge and kitchen. This post and beam theme would also be used in framing doorways between the lounge room and other areas.

Thirdly, we decided to level off the floor surface of the dining/old bathroom area, transforming it into one room.

Fourthly and finally we decided to build in an attic above the dining room, accessed by a winding staircase to be installed at the end of the dining room, a space at that time occupied by the kitchen doorway. The kitchen/bedroom-to-be would subsequently be accessed through a door set in under the stairs (the family rejoices once more - are we not sad creatures?).

So there you go. Now you know how some of our most momentous decisions were made and a little bit about why they were made. Hopefully it makes some sense. Make sure you comment if it doesn't because I have many more posts ahead, and thus many more opportunities to explain things.

Erasing Bathroom Tracings

2009-12-31T15:22:00.000+11:00

Well, we may not yet have decided one way or another where the kitchen was or wasn't to be, but fiberglass fibers from old ceiling insulation still needed to be blocked off from the air we breathed, walls still needed to be plasterboarded and the ceiling support issue had to be resolved. The renovation went on.

The most important job was keeping the ceiling propped up. I'm sure you can imagine why. The second most important thing was sealing off the ceiling - with spare sisalation in the bathroom area and black plastic in the dining room. The black plastic had already been up but was now replaced temporarily. The usual unhealthy effects attributed to breathing fiberglass fibers and dust would have been worse in a family containing at least three asthmatics.

The view from the kitchen toward where the bathroom had been can be seen above. The books and various paraphanalia that the dinner table is bearing up under was all mostly cleared off the as-yet-unmoved crockery cabinet that can be espied in the distance.

In this photo (above), we have begun cutting the second-hand gyprock to fit the wall we are facing. As neither Dad nor I enjoy this job, I'm afraid we weren't very cheerful.

However, we got through it. And it looks good when done. At least, it does after living with black plastic for months, I assure you.

It is surprising how easily one becomes used to the look and doesn't notice it after a while. Until, that is, one entertains visitors and notices with re-sensitized eyes the eyesore it really is. Not that we left our walls unplastered and unpainted out of laziness or choice, but lack of resources and time did mean that we lived with this state of affairs for some time.

Bathroom Demolition - Days 2-3

2009-12-30T16:16:00.000+11:00

Next morning (after the events documented in the previous post), Slick removed the plumbing and began to take down the wall. Porch/dining area and bathroom were about to become one.

Isn't the morning sunlight flooding through that window glorious? It was especially so to us, having used that room almost entirely by artificial light for most of the past eighteen months. Below, at the beginning of Day 3, Alick can be seen sweeping the floor after Slick had taken down the plywood wall. In the photo on the right, if you look through the wall frame, through the dining room and past the fridge, you can see Llick in the kitchen. Since we closed off the original entry into the kitchen by putting in the new bathroom, we had to make that opening through to the kitchen. It was much more convenient for transferring food onto the table, however.

In the above photo, the last piece of gyprock is coming down, opening up what was the bathroom to the lounge area. As you can see on the left, nobody has yet worked up the energy to empty and move the crockery cabinet.

You will see in the above photos that Slick is opening up the toilet room, too. The toilet,as seen on the right, is no more. Its stained ugliness dictated a swift and effective end. Somebody had fun.

Ah, never say we don't have fun - every now and again. This piece is obviously part of the ceiling, which was destined - one way or another - to change. At this stage we were still undecided whether to create a cathedral ceiling over the dining room, or somehow fit in a little attic. If fact, we were also playing with the idea of putting the new kitchen in this bathroom/toilet area - a new idea for us. Up to this point, we had been planning on putting the new kitchen in the big room on the south east corner of the house; however, council regulations had made things complicated. We had by this stage discovered that, unless we spent the large, precious quantities of money and time necessary to lodge a development application, we could only put bathrooms and kitchens in areas that contained existing plumbing. We got away with moving our bathroom because it was put in the kitchen; we now knew we would be able to legally move our kitchen, as long as we put it where the bathroom had been. The question now was, How can we fit within the council regulations and at the same time make this work for us within the plan of the house? How can we put the kitchen where the bathroom was, yet make it an efficient and usable space?

As you can see, the space was not large. Not for a kitchen for a family of nine. If you also look back up at the photo taken from the lounge room and imagine the pink room beyond as another living room, it will become obvious that putting the kitchen in where the bathroom had been would also create a bottleneck between one half of the public living space and the next. All these things and more we pondered in between our progressive deconstruction of the old bathroom. To discover our eventual resolution of these issues, you'll have to wait on coming posts!

Bathroom Demolition - Day 1

2009-12-29T13:00:00.000+11:00

Soon after completing the new bathroom, we eagerly set to work on the demolition of our unusual old bathroom. This is the 'before' shot in all its glory:

Followed by a few 'during' shots: (Below: Unscrewing the corrugated plastic.)

(Below: Observers.)

(Below: The window finally uncovered. We showered every day in front of that window!)

(Below: Day's end.)

The plywood had been put up temporarily to replace the asbestos that we took off right at the beginning - eighteen months earlier. It would soon come back down.

It was a joy to rip all this stuff out, I can heartily assure you. (Especially as I was the one who got to do most of the ripping, at this stage.) After agonizingly slow progress, negotiating endless obstacles, we had finally reached a stretch of open road and were determined to make the most of it while it lasted. Destruction is so much easier than construction. I'm sure that one is justified in adapting 'All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy' to 'All construction and no destruction makes Jack a burned out boy'! Normally I would object to such a saying, but in the renovation business deconstruction is part of going forward, and normally these stages are the fastest and, therefore, most stress-free. 'Forward' looks a lot like 'backward' sometimes!

Room for a Bath

2009-11-28T15:33:00.001+11:00

Here are some photos (finally) of the finished bathroom:

The above photo is taken from the doorway into the bathroom.

From the doorway, only this time down close and personal with the floor.

A view of the various light sources. The candles are more for decoration than anything, though they come in useful in black-outs, which are not an uncommon occurrence here.

This photo was taken while standing on the edges of the bath, facing back towards the door. (Obviously!)

The sink, using the flash. Did I mention before that the washbowl has a special glaze?

Standing on the bath still ...

So, this is our bathroom. Since I just took these photos today, I can say 'this IS our bathroom'. And it WAS our bathroom too. Over the past two years since its completion, not much has changed.

The completion of this room represented the conquering of a stage in the renovation. It was the first room to be completed and it was the room that had to be done before anything else. Completing this room meant the beginning of the rest of the renovation.

So you can imagine the relief and excitement we felt due to these reasons, but cast back to my post on our old bathroom and you will understand a little of the wonder and appreciation we also felt for this fresh, clean, light-filled 'water closet'.

Next post will reveal the Demolition of the Blue Bathroom...

Bathroom Makes Progress

2009-11-17T10:06:00.005+11:00

Plastering. Oh what joy. One, incidentally, that I had not yet experienced. However, my sister, Blick, sweated out most of her plastering apprenticeship in this room.

This room is a monument to her perseverance and resultant skill. It was not an easy room to begin a plastering career in.

Normally the installation of cornice along the top of the wall means that the plasterer doesn't have to concern himself with the join between the ceiling and walls. It is all covered up. However, as we were creating and plastering our cornice ourselves, the plasterer of this room had three horizontal right-angle corners to deal with on top of the four vertical ones. Two concave and one convex. The final surfaces of that cornice consist almost entirely of applied plaster, I am sure. The original gyprock was but the skeleton awaiting flesh!

However painful, the creation of this different cornice effect was necessary and, indeed, attractive in the end. As can be seen, at this point the cornice has been created and half plastered on all four walls. The intrusion of the beam above the door is now invisible. Voila! Three identical replicas built, and the original problem has disappeared.

Here you can see that the shower base and tiled 'back' are installed. Two narrow glass panels and a glass door will complete it. The door is destined to angle across the front corner, saving room.

Yes, our shoddy old 'kitchen' lights are still our source of artificial light in the bathroom. Not long after, the electrician came and installed one of those three-in-one things, consisting of heat lamp, fan and normal light. He also installed a wall bracket light over the bath.

And this is the bath. A bath with a history.

One day Mum and Dad headed off to buy a free-standing cast iron bath. Of course, our almost non-existent budget was boasting it's customary several thousand less than several thousand dollars, so second-hand was our only option. Wandering amongst old baths galore, her keen eye on sharp lookout, our aesthetics director could find nothing suitable. That is, none except that ancient bath way down the back, full of ash and rubbish, rusted beyond belief and apparently leg-less.

Lets be blunt: it was a wreck. But, it had the Right Shape. Slick put to use the haggling skills he'd learned in Mexico so many years ago, and bought it. Are we crazy? Well, judge by the photo above.

Did you know that a glossy enamel paint is applied to trains? No? Neither did we, till we started researching places that might re-coat our bath in enamel. It's true, though, and that is what now covers our bath.

It wasn't quite as straight-forward as just rocking up to somewhere for a spray job, unfortunately. First the bath had to be laboriously scraped by the team as someone had hand-painted the bath - and it hadn't worked. At least it showed us how pointless that avenue of endeavour would be. All that paint had to be taken off and even chisels were out before the end. Paint removed, we hauled it in to the enamelers and left it, waiting for the call that would let us know they'd found time for it. The call finally came and we picked it up (including the four odd legs - nothing like a bit of eccentricity!), lugged it home and polished it with the special cloths that were provided. This took off the last tiny nibs.

Finally we heaved into place, connected the plumbing and stood back to admire our new bath.

To be quite honest, our bath isn't the same as your average several-thousand-dollar new cast-iron bath. The enamel is thinner than the original enamel, as our enamel is a two-part paint product. This has meant, in practical terms, that it is much easier to chip or scrape the finish on our bath. Two years later and our bath now bears small scars from clumsily handled metal plugs and various other accidents, but it is certainly in full working order.

Cover and Colour

2009-10-28T10:37:00.000+11:00

Back to the bathroom.

It is now August 22nd. Due to budget restrictions, it has taken a while to actually install the plumbing and electricity. But now it is all just about done. We (unfortunately) had to take the gyprock off that wall in order to run the pipes for the sink and shower. I say 'unfortunately' because it meant more plastering later on.

This photo was taken on September 3rd. The new panelling is on, the toilet in and the sink installed. The sink bowl was taken in part payment for a job Dad did locally and is from a very limited supply. Only one man produces them, and the glaze is their most intriguing (and apparently difficult) aspect. The sink stand was built by Slick. In the above photo it is still undergoing final adjustments. Its surfaces have not yet been finished.

We based the bathroom colours on those to be found in the sink bowl glaze.

By September 8th, colour was being applied. The sink was removed for safety, meanwhile.

Perhaps it was because progress was so drawn out that we have very few and scattered photos of this part of the renovation. Even though the successful completion of this new bathroom would act as a removed chock, allowing all the rest of the renovation to go forward, and even though we knew this only too well (every other move we thought of making was blocked by the placement and necessary existence of the old bathroom), we could only go forward as fast as our resources allowed. By the time the above photo had been taken (September 29th), we had paid for the plumbing and electricity work, and bought a new toilet (you will soon see why that was necessary), new lights and a shower screen. All our outlay was over, and only our own time and effort lay between us and a completed bathroom. Finally our urgency for change could be translated into action!

Fence Update

2009-10-28T09:37:00.001+11:00

This is a quick update on what the front boundary of Lizard Rock looked like in the middle of July, 2007.

That's the neighbour's house in the distance and no, that is not our vehicle!

Taking Shape

2009-10-21T14:42:00.003+11:00

June 16th found Slick framing up the wall that would close the room off from the living area. Some thought and discussion had to go into this step before he could proceed, as the original builder had (for whatever reason) interrupted the ceiling surface with a low beam. You can see it in the picture below. It runs along behind the top timber of the wall frame.

This beam didn't run in line with the wall of the room to the left. (Of course not, that would be too straightforward and logical.) Instead, it was set back a little more than the width of the wall. This meant that even though we set the wall frame on the outside of the beam (so the beam protruded into the bathroom) the new wall still wasn't quite flush with the old. This caused plastering challenges later on.

Inside the bathroom, after deciding on framing up the wall outside the beam, we were left with the problem of resolving the beam visually. It looked really odd, one wall jutting out at the top. We ended up figuring 'if you can't beat 'em, join 'em' and built look-alike boxes along the top of the other three walls. This transformed a problem into a stylistic distinction and advantage, saving us from the cornice issue and giving the bathroom an individual look and feel. However, it was painful to accomplish, as anyone versed in the art of plastering could inform you. The next picture will give you a glimpse of what it looked like in progress:

You can see that the box cornice surfaces consisted largely of plaster by the time we'd done two concave corners and one converse, with very little between. Blick learned to plaster on this room and she did a good job. (Those lights were the kitchen lights. We were a little short on light in the kitchen for a while!)

As you can see in most of the above photos, the bottom timber of the wall goes right from wall to wall. Eventually the door into the bathroom was to hang on the right-hand side, so after the wall had been built and secured Dad must have cut out the section of the base plate in the door area.

You may wonder about the pine two-by-fours. They are new, bought cheaply from the discard pile at our local building supply store. The timbers were too full of big knots and other weaknesses to be sold to construction builders who would use them in load or stress bearing situations. The timber was fine for our purposes as we were able to cut out the imperfections and use the timber in relatively low-stress applications. The walls, for instance, basically held up the gyprock, pine panelling and insulation. No major load bearing or lateral strain was being taken. Thus they were ideal for us.

Bathroom Beginnings

2009-10-20T12:17:00.002+11:00

It is June 15th. Our kitchen has suddenly shrunk. As readers of previous posts have already seen, first a door has been removed, then a window installed. The wall separating the kitchen and dining area has also been removed, unfortunately without a photographic record. Now a completely new wall is being built, cutting the kitchen almost in half.

First, the kitchen was half cleaned out, then the wall framed in. Shelves had to be made and furniture, such as the pantry cabinet, fitted back into the remaining kitchen so the cook didn't go quite crazy. Then the panelling was nailed on. This tongue and groove pine panelling was actually bought new. Gyprock recycled from other walls in the house and gyprock bought for a song off the 'damaged pile' then clad the upper walls.

That night, Dad got out the (new) tin of Tongue Oil/Polyurethane mix and put down the first layer of floor sealant.

Oh, I nearly forgot. Speaking of the floor and sealing it, obviously the floor had first to be sanded back. The floorboards, fresh and new when we took up the linoleum fifteen months before, were by now darkened with a layer of ingrained dirt. In shifts, we painstakingly sanded off that fifteen month layer of our life story with a palm sander. Dad's belt sander died ages ago, so, going through many sandpaper pads, we worked the floor with a little, zippy hand sander. It was slow and numbing. After finishing a shift, your hand/s would feel fat and clumsy - as though you had pins-and-needles - and itchy, as well! But it was soon done, being only a small space, and resulted in a floor that looked and smelled almost brand-new.

Then the sealant poured on and transformed the pale honey pine into rich, warm tones that deepened even to black over the knots in the timber. Shame about the smell!

Insulating the Western Wall

2009-10-14T19:25:00.001+11:00

Winter was nearly upon us, but we were determined not to be caught again with an unclad wall. Last winter had been cold enough. Thanks to the assistance of an old friend, we were able to purchase the materials necessary to buy the (recycled) cladding. But before it could be put up, the rest of the insulation we'd salvaged from the tip so many months ago was finally to be used up. It had been sitting in a shrinking pile under an old blue plastic pool liner for the past twelve months, occasionally scattered by the wind or leaked on through stray holes. What a relief to go through it for the last time.

The steps that used to lead up to the old kitchen door look rather pathetically pointless.

I hate wearing masks, no matter how good they are for me. Either we didn't have access to a conventional mask, or I was determined to be a bit different since I had to wear one. I can't quite recall. Oh, but I didn't enjoy this. The fiberglass fibers are horrible - they make you itch all over. And then there was the added joy of the insulation being dirty and sometimes wet, depending on where in the stack it had been. As we couldn't put wet bits in the wall (damp was okay), we had to cut those sections out and adjust accordingly. Put it this way: there was a reason we got it for free. (Everyone else has more sense!)

It was painful, but it was worthwhile. Our wall ended up insulated, for nothing more than our time and effort, and a waste product was stored in a useful, invisible way. Our struggles with recycled fiberglass insulation were over.

The Third (and last) Western Window

2009-10-12T19:52:00.002+11:00

Photos: May 28th, 2007.

(Old) New Bathroom Window

2009-10-07T12:06:00.002+11:00

Guess what we found when we took out our kitchen door-frame, causing the hole in the wall to be seen below?

A little bat! I guess it was dry and snug there.

He didn't move much at first - he was probably bleary-eyed after a hard night's hunting - but after a while our excitement roused him enough that he flitted off.

Did I ever mention how much harder it is to frame up windows with well-seasoned hardwood? But hey, that's sometimes what comes of recycling. You use what you can.

This is the new window, destined - eventually - to open into a new bathroom. It is so painful, expensive and time-consuming to put plans through our local council, that we made a lot of decisions in the renovation influenced by our wish to avoid having to go through that ordeal. After some inquiries, we discovered that - as long as we moved to a room with existing plumbing - we could move kitchen and bathroom without having to put a development application through council. The bathroom could not stay where it was, on the sunny side of the house with the view, but we could only move it to a room with existing plumbing. We decided to slice off the southern section of the current kitchen (which was not going to stay there) and bring in light through the western wall. The new bathroom is the only complete room in the house with natural light only coming from one side. (Though the incomplete en-suite is like that too, at the time I log this post.) Unfortunately, we could not avoid this problem of only one widow; fortunately, it hasn't been much of an issue, though.

There it is, the stained glass window Mum had been hanging out for! (And no doorway at the top of the stairs.)

Next up, the installation of the last window in the western wall.

First Window in the Western Wall

2009-10-06T12:21:00.001+11:00

A couple weeks later we were back to installing windows. The first one was put into the little bedroom.

Of course, the window was recycled, as were the timbers used to frame it. Most of the timber, in fact, was already there; it just had to be rearranged somewhat.

This wall was the last one remaining uninsulated and unclad. As we were heading back into winter, the push was now on to change this situation as soon as possible - as coming posts will show.

The Laundry

2009-10-05T14:50:00.001+11:00

Sorry folks, somehow we missed out on photos of the painting of the laundry. You'll just have to believe me when I tell you that the laundry was originally white...ish and had all the plumbing coming in on the wall where the big double-sash window is now. Thanks to the services of Phil the Plumber, all our water now comes in through the western wall, where you see all the taps. Thanks to Keith and Jon the Electricians, our fresh green walls also sported new powerpoints, and thanks to Llick and Click everything was freshly painted. Thanks to Slick, the room finally had the natural light it had been starved of. For when we first bought the property, there had only been a very small window to let light into the bare, dark room that did for a laundry. And very soon after our arrival even that little window had been removed - along with the asbestos cladding - and closed up for security reasons. It was glorious to see that sunlight streaming through the windows into a fresh, clean room.

Our next step was to tile the floor, and May 15th, 2007, was the day we did it.

This door leads into the back of the garage/shed/workshop (we call it all these things).Those stacked boxes contain the slate tiles we were about to lay.

The external door, which is almost directly opposite the current kitchen door.

To begin the tiling process, we measured the walls and strung string-lines from the centres of each. This gave us reference points with which we could start the tiles off square and straight.

They are actually slates, not tiles, bought at a bargain price because they were the last of the supply. We had just enough to do the laundry, plus a box or two left over.

Because I have no more photos, I communicate the rest of the process by text. By completing the room systematically, working from the quarter of the room furthest from the door, we managed not to trap ourselves into a corner! We had tiled too many times before to make that mistake, and finished the tiling by the end of the afternoon.

The next day we grouted with dark grey grout, and it did look good. Once the grout was dry, we washed the floor a few times to remove the remaining surface grit and oxide. Clean and well dried, the floor then received a coat of smelly, but effective, slate sealant, which brought out all the subtle colours in the stone as well as seal it from the water that it would later have to endure.

From raw concrete, splotched with old white paint, industrial and ugly, to an attractive, dark floor that set off the bright walls and brighter ceiling - the effect had to be seen to be fully appreciated. This room was no longer a rough afterthought or a dark little utility hole in which clothes were supposed to become clean, it was now a sunny room with a character and feel all of it's own; a place that felt clean and businesslike, without jarring the senses. The laundry was transformed, and now all that it needed was its furniture.

Our washing machine was brought back in, a set of sorting shelves built for the dirty laundry and a deep sink installed next to the washing machine. We were in business!

Crisp Autumn Morning View

2009-10-05T13:41:00.000+11:00

This is our view on clear, cold autumn mornings.

As you can see, the fence hasn't progressed at all over the past week or so since Easter.

By the way, if anyone actually reads this blog, please, please comment. If I don't get some feedback soon, posts on this blog might very well dwindle. Not to threaten or anything! And, in case someone does read this blog, let me take this opportunity to say 'Thanks!' Let me know what things you really like to hear about or see and I will try to incorporate those things more.

Click.

First Renovation Anniversary

2009-10-01T19:21:00.001+10:00

On April 11th, we celebrated one year's ownership and development of 'Lizard Rock'.

Llick holds up the cake (probably made by someone other than Mum, judging by the lack of height). We are dining in the area that used to be veranda till we installed the windows, clad the outer and took out the inner sliding doors. The bathroom is still on the other side of the plywood behind Mum. Do you see the stains at the bottom of that wall? Water from the shower on the other side sometimes leaked through and drained away under the window.

And on the same day this photo was taken of the shed/laundry wall, opposite the kitchen. As you can see, not only is it clad, but at some time during the last three or four months Slick has installed a new door and two new windows. But more on this project later.

The renovation had been hard - emotionally, physically and mentally - but it was wonderful to contemplate what we had managed to accomplish, by the grace of God, on an almost non-existent budget. The application of much hard labour, time, initiative and innovation, combined with some skill, to materials from the local dump, various jobs, friends and a unexpected places, gave us results that many people pay much money for. It would have been much easier to take out a loan, but we were determined to use our skills and the materials available and to come out the other side beholden to no-one. We saw this house as our God-given opportunity to work our way further out of morgage debt. Once finished, we planned to sell it and move straight on. As it turns out, two years later, we have not yet arrived at the right time to sell. The house has been on the market, and then been taken off. But I am jumping far ahead of myself. Look out for the upcoming laundry post!

Easter Display - Scene II

2009-10-01T14:50:00.000+10:00

The scene outside our front fence, Easter Sunday, 7th April, 2007.

Easter Display - Scene I

2009-10-01T14:09:00.000+10:00

Photos taken Friday 5th April, 2007.

Easter Display - Preparation

2009-09-30T14:35:00.006+10:00

I know this post really doesn't have anything to do with the renovation, but if you keep your eyes peeled you'll see bits of the shed, house and front fence.

At our previous address, the people on our street used to decorate their houses and hold a street party in December. We never bought into the whole 'christmas lights' thing. Instead, over our fifteen years stay on that street, we devised nearly fifteen different displays for our front yard. From a simple paper mache snowman (eminently ironic in our blisteringly hot Aussie christmas season), to the complexity of Rachael's Tears (strong political comment), each and every one of these displays had a message. Some were obvious, others subtle; all of them pushed people to re-evaluate, re-asses, re-think. Maybe change.

This year, we might be in a completely different location and season, but we (that is to say, Slick) decided to take advantage of our street exposure and carry on our tradition. We believe that absolute Truth exists and is so important that it should not be concealed, but revealed for all - whether comfortable for people or not.

It was Thursday the fifth of April. The next day would be so-called 'Good' Friday, the day on which Christians officially remember Christ's death. Inspired by God and orchestrated by Slick, we set out to portray two scenes: Christ's dead body in the tomb and, three days later, the lack of Christ's body in the tomb.

First we wrapped Slick snugly in chicken wire. Recycled, of course. (Did you doubt it?)

By the way, notice the stack of recycled palings leaning against the shed? They have been taken off the hands of a local fencer (still in panels), disassembled, de-nailed and stacked, and are currently waiting to be turned into new fence panels.

Looks a bit weird, hey? A friend arrived at a slightly later stage (when he had his hands crossed over his chest), walked down the drive from an angle behind Dad's head and just about freaked out. She saw us all standing and kneeling around a body on the ground and thought he'd had a collapse or something. It was kind of funny because it was an unexpected reaction and yet a close interpretation of the scene we were creating. At least, it was amusing to us because we have a warped sense of humour.

Looks kind of freaky, even though you can tell it's just a wire frame.

Slick and the younger three did the angel wings, which involved a take on an old Slick-developed artistic technique. Rather than creating wire frames, as we have in the past, and semi-melting plastic for the outer covering, Dad used branch off-cuts and the same plastic wrap he used on the stone pillars. (We had used our only chicken wire on the body, you see, and didn't have much plastic hanging round, either.) Necessity is the mother of invention, they say, and it has certainly proved so to us many a time.

Notice that there are new windows installed in two of the laundry walls and that most of the nearest wall has been clad?

On to the next stage: The Wrapping of the Body (with strips of a not-too-stained drop-sheet). Each strip was glued down, but not with a strong glue. This body was to become a life-size representation of Christ's dead body in the tomb.

Slick positioning the first angel's head. This head is plaster, hand carved by Dad for one of our past Christmas displays. Most things from past displays haven't ever lasted more than two years, but this head and another are truly works of art that can and will be preserved. This head was put on the pole for this specific purpose.

You can see, by the way, that some progress has been made on the fence. The front gate used to swing to the left of these panels.

Part Two of the Easter installments coming soon.

The Picket Fence

2009-09-29T17:26:00.005+10:00

Remember how we had a long, boring, dirty white picket fence along the front of the property? As you know, we decided to pull it out and replace it with our zigzag recycled paling fence. We at first considered selling the pickets as they were largely in good solid condition, due to being treated pine. But then we began to consider what we were going to do up the back of our property in the interests of security, property definition and privacy. Those scorned pickets, far from being sold, ended up individually de-nailed, scrubbed, painted, trimmed and turned into our fresh, cottage-y back fence. Even the long horizontal (hardwood) rails from the original front fence were recycled. Only the posts had to be bought, and they are treated pine as well. They will last a long time.

As usual, we had a goal - we wanted merely to build three fence panels and two gates, and hang those same gates in one afternoon. Well, we wanted to go away the next day, yet were loath to leave the property unsecured at the back. Remember what I said about our goal setting habit in 'Snapshot: The List'?

The original fence.

The first panel of pickets is installed and Slick is glad-wrapping the freshly mortared top section of the pillar so it holds firmly together as it dries. I don't know where he got the industry strength plastic wrap; I think either he salvaged it or someone gave it to him. It has come in very handy for various things. Note the new garden, which is basically cow manure from the saleyards and kitchen compost rotting down together. The old drive was so packed and gravelly beneath that we gave up on the idea of trying to dig into it.

The Klick, Alick and Glick Painting Squad. As you can see, the pickets have been cut and nailed to the rails, already. As you can't see, the pickets actually all have an initial coat of white paint, so this is just touch-up time. The day was beautifully warm and as soon as the panels were dry we were able to lug them across to the posts they belonged to, chock them up and screw them on.

Slick outlining the process necessary to install the fence panels.

This photo was taken approximately from our back door. By the end of the day almost the entire fence was up ...

... except for a few last pieces. However, by nightfall all was finished, including a clever bolt to secure the big gates. We could go away the next day in peace and satisfaction.

Odds and Sods

2009-09-29T14:02:00.003+10:00

A few images of things from February, 2007.

Llick, working in the garden down in the front yard. Notice the new crushed granite path? Oh, and do you see the lamp-post down at the gate? There is another behind Mum, too, just across and up the path a bit. Slick took advantage of the trench that the plumber dug to run the electricity.

Picturing the back of the house, from the upper corner of that side of the property. The clothesline has been moved - did you notice?

And again, from slightly further up the hill, on the drive. The hedge is growing healthily, despite being young and coping with the full heat of summer. The thick bank of mulch around the roots made a huge difference.

Not All Work

2009-09-29T09:58:00.002+10:00

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, so they say.

We have not had to suffer that cruel fate.

Hidden Conveniences

2009-09-28T19:42:00.000+10:00

It's the other end of January (the 31st) and we are digging another ditch. This ditch became necessary because the plumber put his shovel through the mains pipe while trying to find it and discovered that it was so corroded that a replacement would have to be laid. This was a good thing to discover, by the way, as it explained black flakes in our water and all sorts of other undesirable characteristics.

Thank heaven for that machine!

This plumbing was a major part of the preparations we had to make before any further progress could be made on the renovation. Before we could move our bathroom and kitchen, the plumbing had to be done; before we could install a new ensuite, the plumbing had to be done; before we could move our taps and drains around in the laundry, the plumbing had to be done; before we could set up our solar water heater, the plumber had to come. I'm sure you get the picture.

Plumbing is one of those aspects of a house that is not generally thought about until it stops working properly. The electric network is another hidden convenience that makes our easy lifestyle what it is, yet isn't generally thought of till it is gone. In a sense, one could justifiably argue that this is as it should be, as it would seem to indicate a lack of aesthetics for the existence of the plumbing to be constantly intruding on one's thoughts; however, it is good to be reminded of blessings of all those hidden pipes and wires.

Between the laundry and the house, a trench had to be dug - without the help of that wonderful machine to be seen in the above photo - for both the plumbing pipe and the electric cable, as usual six hundred millimetres deep and a spade-width wide. Guess who got her afternoon exercise on that job.

Unfortunately, I haven't any more photos. I especially would have liked to show you pictures of several of us digging trenches under our house, where the pipes came under the foundations and branched off in different directions. Considering we were bent nearly double, this was probably the most awkward form of ditch-digging that I have yet experienced - and let me tell you, I have experienced the digging of many ditches!

Thank you, Phil the plumber, our house would not be the same without the help of your services!

Local Wildlife

2009-09-28T10:24:00.008+10:00

Here are some photos of our local wildlife that were taken during January 2007.

Kookaburra sits in the old [willow] tree.

Frog on the edge of our sink inside our bathroom.

It was a rather active frog.

Cockatoos.

Glick and a friendly dragonfly.

No, not native - an escapee Peacock from an aviary down the road.

Either a Wolf spider (more ugly than dangerous) or a Funnel web (at least as dangerous as ugly); we didn't bother trying to confirm either way.

And you thought human kids nag. Trust me, living next to a Galah nest is a test of your strength of mind.

Property Named

2009-09-28T09:19:00.000+10:00

At the end of January, 2007, we officially put up the name of our property. It all started when we were given two sandstone pavers recycled from a neighbour's garden. Alone, they were useless - big and heavy, but not interesting or large enough to be much use in the general way. Slick's natural creative innovation got to work, and soon he had transformed them into pleasing objects that were of practical use, added romance, interest and value to the front presentation of the property, and which could only improve with time.

Clever, ain't he?

First Panel of the Front Fence

2009-09-25T16:52:00.001+10:00

Our front fence as it was when we bought the property:

Dirty, boring and wobbly. Ridiculous from all angles - this was our fence. It had to change. Our resident designer (Mum) cleared the drawing board (found a space on the handiest scrap of paper), the resident carpenter ordered the materials and generally figured out how to translate the drawing into reality - while the remaining innocent residents waited to be transformed into resident laborers.

Voila! The laborers appear and the picket fence begins to disappear.

It was a jolly hot day.

Visitors. What a shame.

The First Panel.

The boards (old recycled fence palings) were cut square, lined up along the centre diagonal board, nailed on and then trimmed with a circular saw.

Notice the washing line in the distance? It was not going to stay there much longer.

Standing at the top of the kitchen stairs, in the doorway. The panel is three quarters done.

Success. The first panel is installed and the highland mist is rolling in.

Note the long, narrow trench: our plumbing according to laundry, kitchen and bathroom plans...

Finishing the Handrail

2009-09-24T18:24:00.000+10:00

Slick strips the bark off our eucalypt sapling handrail. It is January 3rd, 2007 and hot.

It is quite an eye-opener to the lay person, how many uses skillful hands can put a shovel to (though it is sometimes necessary to sharpen it first).

Front Steps Pt 2

2009-09-24T09:26:00.000+10:00

Remember, back in April, when I posted Front Steps Pt 1? Approximately six months later and I have progressed all of about four months in the history I am trying to document! Yes, the photos below were taken between Christmas and New Year, 2006. (27-30th)

So far, Dad has dug out the old sandstone steps and replaced them (with recycled concrete slab sections). Now he has dismantled the old sandstone dry wall and is moving it in, so the edges of the steps are concealed and locked in.

Notice the steel bars? It's amazing what you can do with a trampoline.

Can you see the reason for the steel?

Da daa! The handrail. Yes, it is a eucalypt sapling - specially chosen and chopped, out on a friend's block.

No laughing, you have no idea how many comments and complements we've received in regards to this handrail!

The only object that has been more commented on, amongst our friends and within our community, is our new front fence - but you'll just have to wait a little longer to see that structure for yourselves! Watch out picket fence: you won't be standing there much longer.

Gardens

2009-09-23T11:55:00.004+10:00

Skip ahead with me to December 2006 for some glimpses of our gardens, beginning with the vegetable patch.

We decided to make use of the oddly shaped corner up on the highest point of the block, an area cut off from the rest of the property by the right-of-way to the neighbours' place. The soil proved to be an interesting puzzle and challenge, as it had a high proportion of both white and red clay, a liberal scattering of rocks, large and small, and also contained much ash and garbage. Evidently this area had been used for burning off. A vigorous crop of blackberry canes also had to be removed before the garden could be dug, so tons of roots had to be removed - and are still a constant battle. The earth was also very compacted.

Because of the unfortunate composition of the soil, we had to dig it over completely, quite deeply, unload a couple of trailer loads of cow manure onto it and just leave it for a while as the manure broke down and started the process of re-balancing the soil components. After that we planted sunflowers (their roots would help break up the soil), tomatoes (we eat so many), broad beans, pumpkins, beans and zucchinis. Actually, the pumpkins might have been self-sown from our compost. In hindsight, we should have piled on at least twice as much manure. A load of fine green waste or straw or something probably wouldn't have gone astray either.

This photo, taken through the sunflowers, looks down the hill from the highest point on the property.

This photo was taken from the right-of-way, looking back up to the veggie garden. We grew lots of pumpkins and zucchinis that year.

And from the other angle, still standing on the right-of-way, just about where it exits our property and becomes Mangold Lane.

The steps and flower garden.

The steps from the bottom.

Looking toward the steps from the higher level again.

And from further back still.

We grew lots of pumpkins that year. The mulch was very fruitful!

Snapshot: The List.

2009-09-21T16:49:00.002+10:00

We seem to have developed a habit of setting ourselves near-impossible goals and then busting ourselves to reach them. This method gets lots done in short periods of time - and appears to be the most efficient way for this family to work - but it can be stressful and annoying! This is where our tried and true List comes into play. Let me introduce you:

The List.

Reader, The List (yes, that's right - the board angled away from us, to the right); List, the Reader.

This photo was taken on Saturday, October 13th, 2006, and you're right: I don't look very impressed or enthusiastic. None of us do. As per our usual (unfortunate and awkward) habit, we were undertaking not only to organize and host a sports day (involving the usual hosting-in-a-small-house-during-renovation major scrub and tidy campaign), but also remove the big sliding glass doors from between our living area and the now-enclosed veranda area. We needed to cut these doors out so that we could shoehorn in fifty-odd people and feed them, after we'd run them around after various sized balls, wearing them out and honing their appetites.

Enter The List, all tasks recorded down the whiteboard, each tagged with the name of the person responsible to complete it. The Writing of The List was (and is) essentially General Slick outlining the battle strategy while the lower ranks stand around negotiating or advising according to station. For most of us (in the pictured instance above, anyway), The Writing of The List was our last chance to express our reluctance, sleepiness, dissatisfaction with life in general and assigned tasks in particular, and/or injured dignity at the inference that work had to be assigned to one in the first place! Moments later and we would be scattered to our various tasks and further complaints promptly squashed.

However, there is this gorgeously satisfying sensation to be experienced when wiping a task off the whiteboard that almost makes up for having it written there in the first place. Seriously, scratching items off any list gives one a good feeling, but whiteboards offer extra as you can literally wipe it clean - no messy scribbles! Okay, you're right: it's harder to see just how many things you've completed, but on the flip side, it's easier to see exactly what still remains.

The doors coming out. Thankfully we were able to mostly leave that to Dad while we busied ourselves cleaning house. The doors were actually quite heavy, as they were double glazed.

It seems like a very insignificant space to add to one's living area, but I can assure you that this made a huge difference to the way we were able to use the space in the house. (And to the logistics of feeding fifty-odd hungry people!) As we didn't end up making any major change to our living space for another eight to twelve months, this ended up being an important move for the sake of our sanity in the days to come.

I'm glad to report that everything came together (the battle won), the sports day was a rousing success and the house space worked better than ever before - despite our morning attitude!

Lamp Posts

2009-09-19T20:27:00.000+10:00

These photos were taken on September 16th, 2006. I ought to have posted them in chronological order - that is to say, that is what I aim to do - but I somehow missed them. I'm sure you will bear with me - just this once!

Slick working on the lamp posts. The roughly scrubbed rocks lie scattered on the tarp, shapes and sizes exposed for ease of selection, and (theoretically, at least) in a position to remain dirt-free for a day or so.

The left post is actually the inner corner of upper property boundary line, which, if you have hung around for a while, you may remember being rather unusual. A triangle is cut out of the top of our property, the inner tip of which is represented by the left-hand lamp post. (Note that I say 'top' in terms of topography, as it is the highest end of the block. The images I have previously posted are aligned around the other way.) A basic visual can be seen here, and a more recent and up-to-date, here.

One might be able to see a piece of metal in the shape of a 'T' sticking out of the ground in the distance. The lumps around the bottom of the metal pole are the base rocks of a future gatepost.

Before the mortar completely dried, the posts were lightly scrubbed down with a coarse, wet brush so that the rocks wouldn't end up stained. These were the first two of seven free-standing posts.

Electronics

2009-09-19T16:06:00.002+10:00

Unfortunately I can find no photos from earlier, when we dug the trenches and laid the cables that we now drew up through our stone columns / lamp-posts. One of the columns even sports an outdoor powerpoint, which is linked directly back to the power box. It is on it's own circuit. Unfortunately, again, I haven't any pictures; however, as the powerpoint is installed later, I may come across photos yet!

On a different note, take another look at the top photo and notice the little bushes along the top of the rock wall. This was our newly planted hedge of Pittisporum. Don't hold your breath - I'm not exactly the most regular blogger - but eventually you will come to see what a difference this hedge makes!

Just to let you know...

2009-09-18T18:31:00.004+10:00

Just because some of the widgits (such as the Principles of Design quotes) have reappeared on this template, doesn't mean that we've 'decided'. We are still playing, and may try another template yet. Don't be surprised if things come and go a bit, or switch around. Comments are still welcomed, especially those that specify what people do and don't like!

What do you think?

2009-09-18T10:59:00.006+10:00

Hey folks, so what do you think of this template? I've been playing around with the idea of a little more interesting look. After hours of trawling through pages and pages of templates I managed to narrow my selection down to this one and a couple of others. I have already adjusted this template a lot, and if I end up keeping it I promise I will get my widgits back on board. Comments would be appreciated! Thanks.

Front Path

2009-09-14T16:25:00.003+10:00

As things stood, on the 4th October, 2006, we had a front gate, a kitchen door and nothing except grass in between. This was about to change, and Blick was the energetic instrument...

...with a little help.

As can (hopefully) be seen, we didn't dig the path, we dug gardens for Mum (she can always use more) that would eventually define the shape of the path. The yellow lines on the grass indicate the path space.

A Hard Afternoon of Dry Stone Wall Building

2009-09-14T15:19:00.006+10:00

Date: 13.09.06
Time: 1:30 - 5:30pm

Slick: much more than a Carpenter Joiner.

Snapshot

2009-09-14T14:36:00.006+10:00

Sorry for the long blogging silence, folks. Here are some photos that were taken a week or so after the time period covered in my last post. (September 7th, 2006.) They serve as a good this-is-where-we're-up-to-at-this-stage portfolio. Obviously the photos only show the outside of the house, but, as almost nothing had been touched inside as yet, these pictures don't miss much.

As can be seen, little or no landscaping has been done out the front or down the sides of the house, at this stage. The western wall of the house is the last wall waiting to be insulated and clad, and the cladding of the garage/workshop/laundry building is obviously incomplete too. However, three walls of our house now have new windows, insulation and cladding - we have light and warmth inside!

First of September, 2006

2009-06-19T19:08:00.003+10:00

Time for the inside of the kitchen wall to be clad with gyprock (bought off the 'Damaged Pile' at bargain price), and for the last sheets of plywood to be fitted on the front face of the house. Both were done on the same day, Beth and I working with the gyprock (not a job I enjoy - somehow gyprock and I don't mix) and Dad outside with the plywood.

Me, looking like Mlick.

Starting with bottom piece... I wonder how many times we had to adjust the fit? I can't remember.

And then the top.

Our scaffolding has been upgraded since, thank goodness. This lot worked, but had its limitations. I guess you could say it was good for getting the heart rate up, though at uneven intervals.

Hurrah! What a relief! What a sense of closure and accomplishment!

Still Filling...

2009-06-15T18:15:00.005+10:00

Judging by most of these photos, we spent the day standing around. This was the most difficult part - and besides, we didn't start till half-way through the afternoon!

Filling in the Gaps

2009-06-15T18:00:00.004+10:00

Next day we spent cladding the front of the house, starting with the kitchen end.

First we lined the closed in veranda area with black plastic, and then, oh, the joys of insulating ...

Kitchen Window

2009-06-15T12:12:00.005+10:00

Twenty Ninth of August, 2006, and we were finally round to the kitchen window. Corrugated plastic is definitely a good temporary fix.

Of course, the kitchen being the heart of the home and all that, we had interesting obstacles. Come what may, the bread making Must Go On! (Or else, no lunch.)

Can you see why we were eager to renovate our kitchen?

Wow - there's actually a view out that window? Somehow corrugated plastic seems to limit visibility slightly.

And ... a couple hours later the window was installed and the gyprock gone. Very airy!

These photos are almost like looking at our own version of a Brambly Hedge dwelling! (I love those books.)

Black plastic protected us from the elements that night (remember, it was still winter) and gave us some privacy.

Stone Walls

2009-06-15T11:15:00.006+10:00

Gradually the stone walls began to grow, carving order out of the wilderness . Mounds of earth, stone and concrete began to resolve into pleasing lines and useful spaces.

Of course none of this would have happened without Dad's landscaping genius and sheer hard work! I assure you, the clay Dad had to struggle with was No Joke.

Privacy

2009-06-15T10:57:00.003+10:00

A small house + a large family + one (non-cordless) phone = desperation!

This corner cupboard wasn't useful for much, but it worked in a pinch.

Diamond Pane Window

2009-04-29T19:26:00.004+10:00

August 8-9th, 2006.

Our attention was now predominantly on putting in windows and finishing the cladding. (It was a cold winter, with only gyprock between us and the elements.) Finally we had discovered the right place for the diamond pane window.

Good News!

2009-04-29T11:41:00.002+10:00

Hooray! God is good - I managed to copy all the photos off my wretched USB stick onto my computer (good thing I have lots of hard drive space!) so I shall be able to keep blogging.

You should have seen me. I found just the right angle for the USB to connect, and then had to sit there holding it perfectly still while copying. And it was a really weird angle too. My wrist was sore by the end!

Can't actually post the next bit yet, as I'm supposed to be getting ready for work, but will soon.

Posting Setback

2009-04-23T18:56:00.002+10:00

Just letting any interested readers know that all the renovation photos are stored on a USB device that won't work. I am currently unable to access anything on it. It's quite new too.

Till I manage to figure a way round this setback ...

Front Steps Pt 1

2009-04-14T16:51:00.005+10:00

On moving onto the property there were already old sandstone steps up to the front gate, but they were old, sunken and wobbly - a liability. These sandstone blocks were taken up and set aside. They were used when Dad rebuilt the stone walls (which had also become tumbled and rickety) over the edges of the new steps, once they were finished. Unfortunately I only have photos from the middle of the project.

We began at the bottom and worked our way back up the hill. The proper calculations were done though; the steps didn't work out evenly by accident!

Above photo take from across the road. The railway is behind the photographer.

And our final photo ...

A sneak peak into the future (December 27th, 2006). All the steps can be seen, while the stone walls are being re-built over the edges to finish it off and tie it all together.

Note the fence. It didn't last much longer!

Unique Washing Line

2009-04-14T16:38:00.004+10:00

How many people do you know that have used their volleyball net as a washing line? There are nine of us - sometimes the hills hoist just doesn't hold enough! Now we have an extra clothesline, and the net is retired.

Actually Mum really didn't like using the net, and it didn't last terribly long. It was good for socks though: see those white and coloured blobs that appear almost to be hanging in mid air? That's what they are.

(Picture taken July 28th, 2006)

Wall to Rubble

2009-04-13T18:55:00.007+10:00

27th July, and Dad was working off his Morning Tea, recycling a wall for rock wall footings.

Nothing like having an audience.

It didn't take long. Everyone had a go, though I can only find photos of Dad, and half and hour later the wall had assumed a very different shape - at a much lower level.

Over Ten Days

2009-04-09T08:56:00.007+10:00

From July 10th, 2006 to July 20th, many different things were in the pipeline. Dad began on the first steps, using concrete slabs that the bobcat had dug out of the ground. Waste not, want not.

It was a cold winter.

Here we are just fooling around in the late afternoon sun, but there are some interesting details in the background. The main one is the infamous diamond pane window, temporarily installed on the front of the house. (Between the younger girl's heads.) As can probably be imagined, the view through the window, as opposed to around the edges, was paltry and very interrupted by such small panes. Where it ended up, on the back of the house, there is a pretty view, but a short range view, of the garden. The small diamond panes seem to enhance that view, instead of hindering it.

Those readers with sharp eyes may be able to pick out a square-ish window tacked up under the peak of the roof. At this stage we were thinking to turn the veranda we'd enclosed (that we were trying to decide on windows for) into a dining room or sitting room with a cathedral ceiling. A cathedral ceiling because of the subtle difference that would make to the atmosphere of the room, and the light and view we could then access. The square window was basically to let a little extra light in. But we ended up changing our minds - for a change! We still altered the ceiling height in that room, but ended up dropping it eight or so inches, instead.

Figuring out the fence line. I believe that where the string line is being held, the corner post was to be.

'Scuse my scowl, again, I appear to have a gift for pulling horrible faces. Actually, the sun reflecting off the foil backed insulation, straight into our eyes. Mum and I were trying to sort out the window situation. As can be seen below, Dad is suggesting window heights.

In the end we decided to keep the top of the glass in the windows level, all the way across the house.

Major Landscaping

2009-04-08T15:38:00.008+10:00

Day one, June 16th, and our bobcat man starts some major earth moving. No longer shall the hill slope straight down to and under our house. Drainage installed, and the ground under our house has been dry since.

End of the first day. What a mess!

Next day a flatter area was formed between shed and house:

Ever played with a wacker-packer? Interesting sensation.

A flat path along the back (uphill) side of the house, and a driveway formed. When we bought the property there was little evidence of a driveway, except for extremely hard ground and a scattering of gravel.

Drive down to shed, and levelled area between buildings.

Path. The dirt on the left was clay mud six inches deep, wet by lots of rain and well churned by the bobcat tracks.

Though it looks as though the drive has a kink in it, the flatter area where the bobcat is driving is now a part of our parking space outside our fence line. (We had to have our property surveyed to find out what our boundary lines were; the previous owner had just fenced in a roughly rectangular block, including council property but excluding his own triangle up the top.) Once we'd figured out where our fence line was going, we were able to decide on our driveway. It's now straight up the hill from the photographer, toward the front of the truck tray.

This landscaping was one of the most important aspects of the development of this property. It accomplished several things: it shaped the land into four separate levels, which gardens later made more distinct and unique; it protected the house foundations from excessive movement caused by moisture fluctuation; it made the house begin to look part of the landscape, rather than an interruption to the flow of the hill; and it outlined final use of space by providing areas for rest, for traffic, for transition and for car parking/access. This property would not be half so attractive or useful, if we hadn't done this earth moving.

Horrible Job

2009-04-08T15:20:00.003+10:00

Some two weeks later, 28th June...

'Kitchen' Windows

2009-04-08T15:10:00.003+10:00

The triple sash window we bought, but the two single windows Dad made using sashes that we had stored for years.

In a small house there isn't much room to move things, especially bunk beds. We just had to work around some things...

However, this wasn't always very fun; please excuse the scowl.

Progress

2009-04-08T14:42:00.003+10:00

June 8th, and progress had been made. Both the window and french doors had been installed, plus the window with three sashes. The walls were insulated and cladding begun.

How do you like our scaffolding? I'm glad to report that it has been retired.

The 'kitchen' window that was then, and is now, a bedroom window. Now, it is the main Master Bedroom window. Then, it was the Dormitory window, shedding light on the beds of seven sisters.

It was necessary to demolish the tank stand in order to finish cladding. We unearthed some interesting objects from amongst it's rubble.

Note Mum planting away already, although the rock walls weren't yet finished. She couldn't help herself, it was her stress relief.

Nearly there.

Decisions

2009-04-08T10:44:00.006+10:00

Classic decision making moments...

These scenes were snapped on 25th May, 2006 as we made decisions about 1. the final use of the room, 2. what furniture would therefore be in the room, and 3. which windows, out of our stock pile, would be best for the purpose.

As these were the very first windows to be installed, we also had to keep in mind how cohesive we wanted to outside appearance to look - did we want a pattern of repeated squares, diamonds, rectangles or what? This question was not completely decided till some time later.

The dreaded diamond pane window was up as an option. This was toward the beginning of it's infamous journey around the house.

At this point, we more or less decided that we would knock out the wall behind Mum and I (see below) into the blue room, make the blue room the kitchen (nice and cool on the south eastern corner) and turn the pink room - or perhaps a small extension out the side (you can see the french doors in the bottom photo; they are to my right in the photo below) - into a semi-connected dining room.

Not everything becomes immediately obvious. One thing we knew for sure: we needed light coming in from at least two sides of the room in order to lose its cave-like atmosphere.

The final decision for the day.

Exterior Philosophies

2009-01-18T17:30:00.015+11:00

Sounds profound, doesn't it! What it refers to is the tortuous path we took to arrive at the exterior cladding and appearance of the house.

One of the biggest drawbacks to the appearance of the house was wrapped up in the shallow pitch of the roof. Being a romantic and heavily influenced by North American architecture, I prefer a 45 degree pitch most days of the week. This place didn't cut it.

In our original discussions, we planned to ameliorate the pitch by raising the centre third to a second story, with a gable running front to back and the existing roof line remaining to present a barn like structure.

Unfortunately, our resources wouldn't stretch that far. The compromise was a board on batten
effect which would draw the eye upwards on the front and back of the house. On the two shorter sides of the house, we played off a house 3 doors down which had corrugated iron running vertically on two of its walls. (The fact that Steve got a good deal on iron which was second hand - oops, recycled- may have had some influence on the decision as well!)

The colour scheme was the source of much despair. Having traveled through the province of Quebec and seen the wonderful colour schemes of their houses, my greatest desire was to paint the house a deep raspberry colour. We played around with some paint pots but most required a grey undercoat before the red was applied - and all the reds were a bit garish. We then turned to our store of mis-tints and tints we'd inherited or picked up cheaply. The brown and the grey/blue trim are the end results of our playing. I must admit that for me it was second best, but, in hindsight, my dream was probably not suited to the Australian landscape. Besides, I used red inside the house instead.

The end result was quite satisfying on the back of the house where it is level with the ground, but at the front of the house the exposed brickwork of the foundations caused a problem. Visually, there still seemed to be a squat house on high foundations - the house did not look settled into the landscape at the front. Two things eventually improved the situation. The first was the addition of an attic bedroom over the dining room; the 3 diamond pane windows under the eaves draw the eye up. The second was as simple as painting the brickwork a slightly darker brown (which only happened between Christmas and New Year '08). This removed the horizontal line across the house, It is amazing that so much discussion and angst could be summarised in such a short post!

The final efforts to connect the house to its location and provide a transition area between inside and out will be discussed in greater detail when we get to them.

Windows...

2009-01-18T15:20:00.005+11:00

Before we could put any windows in, however, we had to buy the windows. Almost as soon as we moved back into the house, Mum and Dad were patrolling the "Reviva Centre" (the recycling centre at the tip) and the local liquidators for timber windows and doors. Of course, mostly the cheaper the purchases came, the more work they needed - except for the big double-hung diamond pane window that we paid Way Too Much for (even after serious haggling). We paid the most for this window, and we worked the hardest on it. It was supposedly reconditioned, but we soon knew better.

A succession of people spent hours over it, beginning with a good friend of ours, Margaret. In fact, this window will probably be the most memorable for this family. Not only did we spend hours taking it apart, putting it back together, stripping and painting it -

we also installed it twice! It first went in on the front of the house, in the wall that would close in the veranda (an afternoon's work involving more friends of ours, the vanDort family):

The veranda now being walled in (with a frame and black plastic) we moved our dining table in and began to eat our meals there. But after looking through the diamond paned window every meal for a few weeks, we came to the conclusion that it didn't do justice to the view. Our outlook was hindered, not enhanced. Finally, two months later, we re-installed it exactly opposite it's first position, on the back of the house.

Though Margaret began work on this notorious window on the same day we installed the first window, May 25th, it did not find it's final position till nearly three months later, on August 9th.

Other windows were reconditioned, though most not nearly as drastically as the diamond paned.

And using a set of nine sashes that we'd stored for some years, Dad also built five windows. These added a certain regularity to the outside appearance of the house. These are two of the first, in what we were originally intending to be the kitchen:

Inevitably, it usually took us much longer to prepare the windows than to put them in. But we appreciate the time we spent now.

The First Window

2009-01-18T15:17:00.002+11:00

The installation of windows was our first step in the house renovation. The wonder of light was revealed to us over and over again, as each window went in. The relief we felt, as we witnessed the transformation of each room, was almost physical.

Our first window was installed on May 25th.

I guess there are advantages to a complete lack of cladding. At least you can see what you're doing.
This was the North-Eastern wall of the house. Inside was the pink bedroom.

The pink bedroom initially only had only one source of light (along with almost every other room in the house), so once this window and the following french doors went in, the difference to the feel of the room was amazing. All of a sudden it was a reasonably pleasant place to be!
(The french doors that were to go in next can be seen leaning against the wall along the right hand side of the above photo.) Notice the corrugated plastic - complete with lichen - covering the left hand window. This plastic was screwed down over all our window openings, in replacement of the windows Dad took out while removing the asbestos. The same as the plastic used in our shower, it once roofed an area between the shed and the house, and had been dismantled very shortly after our arrival. Our unusual windows caused various (and sometimes unexpected) reactions from our visitors...

The Eventual Floorplan.

2009-01-12T16:32:00.004+11:00

The house as it now exists - nearly three years later. The final room was moved about two years after we first looked at the house. The side deck (and ramp) was the last living area to be constructed. It was built over the last two days of 2008, and was finished just 40 minutes before the time we were expecting guests to arrive for our New Years Eve open house. (Well, the railings weren't up, but the deck itself was up in time. What more can you want?!)

As can be seen, the Kitchen has changed sides of the house, and the bathroom also. The verandah has been enclosed and, along with the area where the bathroom used to be, has become the dining room. The old entryway became the ensuite-to-be, while the new entryway now comes into the other side of the lounge area. The hall has been carved out of the original living space, creating privacy for the two bedrooms and bathroom, while also delineating a passage for traffic to flow around the outside of the lounge room. The side entrance has switched sides with the kitchen. More on each change as we come to it...

The upstairs area. This is used as a bedroom by me and one of my sisters. (My profile picture, on this blog, is of me in the process of building the bookshelves at the far end of this loft.) The narrow section of diagonal lines on the right side of the image image below is bookshelves. The diagonal lines along the bottom represent our cupboard space, set back into the roof space over the lounge room ceiling. The large storage space to the left of the stairs is the main storage space for the family (all nine of us), and is set into the roof space over the bedroom below.

This upstairs area was initially developed as a children's play area or storage room. Located in the very peak of a shallow pitched roof, I can only just stand up straight under the ridge pole. I'm approximately 5'4". At each end of the floor space the ceiling is about 3 to 3 1/2' off the floor. It was expected that this rather uncomfortable lack of standing room would put us off sleeping up there, but as we mainly spend our time up there either sitting or lying down, it hasn't affected us much. I personally love it. The romance of the low, pitched ceilings, the winding staircase, the diamond pane windows and the amazing view all combine to make it a much treasured bedroom. Besides, after all the effort I put into making it what it is, I could hardly help but love it, even if it were a disaster! But more on this once I get up to it...

Perhaps some people know that we're not far off finishing this house renovation, and have been working very hard over Christmas to finish by Jan 1st 2009. We didn't quite make our self-imposed deadline, but it is amazing just how much we managed to get done. Especially considering all the other stuff we managed to squeeze into November/December.

Now we're into the new year I hope to be able to speed up this record of our journey. I hope you'll bear with me a little longer.

The Original House Plan

2009-01-02T16:58:00.003+11:00

This is a drawing of the house layout as it was when we bought the property:

I've finally had time to draw up, scan, adjust, resize and upload it! Sorry about the long wait you've all had to endure. Hopefully I'll have a little more time to keep the posts coming.

Next up, the house as it is now - for comparison and an idea of where we're heading.

Lie of the Land

2008-11-06T08:10:00.006+11:00

Before documenting the changes we made to the house, here is a diagram of the property.

The property has an odd shape, with a right-of-way cutting off one corner.

On the image above north-south runs roughly parallel with the page edge, with north at the top of the page. (This is a confusing way of looking at the property for me, as I usually visualise the property from the opposite direction - up the hill toward the front of the house, from the main road.)

The wide rectangle intruding into the bottom left corner of the property is a lane; a right-of-way carries on over our strip of property into the next (and last) property. You might be able to see a faint grey line cutting across from where the lane intersects the property's left boundary line to the right boundary? That was the fence line when we bought the property. We had to have someone survey the property so that we knew where our real boundaries were.

The faint lines between the house and shed mark a roofed area that protected the area between the kitchen and laundry doors. This was roofed in corrugated plastic - soon to be recycled into windows and showers. That connecting roof was one of the first things to be dismantled. During the asbestos removal it disappeared.

Approximately where the words 'Railway Avenue' are, at the top of the page, the railway runs parallel to the road. Beyond that is another road, and then the town sports oval and parkland. The view is very pretty.

When we first moved in, the property was basically an undulating slope, all the way from the front gate to the back lane - never really interrupted or levelling out. After the lane the ground level rose about two feet, and sloped the remaining distance to the far corner. The only exception was between the right-of-way and the house: it looked as though someone in the past had banked up and levelled out the earth in anticipation of installing a pool or something. (We began digging our trench along the base of the bank just behind the south-east corner of the house.)

This is as the property is now:Some things, such as the big tree overlapping the house and the row of trees down the left boundary, were on the property when we arrived. Pretty well any curved lines are features that have been added by us.

The curved line that runs from half way down the right (eastern) boundary, behind the house, through the inner corner of the property and onto the lane, is a rock wall. This was almost completely built by Dad. (A couple of my sisters gave a hand once or twice; I moved all of about two stones!)
Between this wall and the back of the house is a path, the first level on the property. Trot up the stairs and you're on the next level. This level slopes away once it reaches the end of the rock wall, off the property in the lane area. At the back of this level the ground level abruptly slopes up to the right-of-way. We've angled a path gently across the fall of the slope, between a garden and a hedge. This path leads to another set of steps, and takes you up onto the right-of-way. Cross the right-of-way and you are faced with a bank of tall grass. Behind that grass is the vegetable garden, conveniently occupying the odd area at the top of the block. The top level. To reach it one can walk straight ahead up the railway sleeper embedded in the bank, or struggle up through any area of the grass.

We've built a little music room on the western side of the garage (shed). This is tiny, so as to avoid having to go through the expensive and extended rigmarole of gaining permission from local council. However it is fully insulated and has it's own little pot-belly stove. More about that when I get up to it.

Fence lines now follow our boundary lines. A combination of picket and paling fencing can be observed, and will be on this blog - just as soon as I get up to them!

As can be seen, the property has changed quite a lot since we bought it. Much of the landscaping happened in the first twelve months of our living here; we had little money, few materials but a will to work and change what we could. Unable to do much to the house, we concentrated on the landscaping. We also had (and still have) an avid gardener, who planted behind every move we made - even if she had to transplant later! The plants have transformed the property as much as the raw landscaping by adding a spacial/visual dimension that nothing else could provide. This aspect, however, can only be adequately shown in pictures. You'll just have to be patient!

Raw Material: Stone

2008-11-04T14:47:00.007+11:00

On May 19th, 2006 our several tons of basalt rock were delivered from a site not 40km away.

Rock walls, here we come.

Our trench was coming into use finally.

This was Dad's early morning exercise for some time to come. (We would wake to the chink of the crowbar against stone.) Once begun, the demand for rock walls seemed inexhaustible, and then after the walls came the pillars...

State of the Bathroom

2008-11-04T12:47:00.007+11:00

The removal of asbestos had severe ramifications on the bathroom. Our bathroom had never been at all appealing, but it in several senses it took a turn for the worse. Our only bathroom window disappeared along with both the outside cladding and the inside (asbestos) fibro. All of a sudden there was no longer any natural light - except that which shone through the holes in the 'Bradford Thermofoil'.

In the process of taking out the asbestos Dad had also ripped out the bath and mouldy vanity cabinet. The bathroom was on a concrete slab, along with the veranda (extending on other side of sink and shower head wall) so we were still able to use the shower.
All that stood between us and the elements while in the shower was that blue aluminum foil sisalation. During winter showers tended to be especially swift. Not the most relaxation-inducing mode of ablution, I can assure you, especially when it is understood that the sisalation was all that stood between us and the main road.
As it is inconvenient to have water going everywhere, we soon took corrugated plastic, salvaged from off the roofed area between the house and garage, and enclosed our shower area. The choice of material was very organic, despite being plastic, as the lichen stubbornly remained in situ - in defiance of a hasty scrub brush. (This corrugated plastic was also what Dad used to close over window openings, after taking windows out during the asbestos clean up.)

We also cut a hole in the sisalation for some natural light. It made a huge difference during the day.

The bathroom, as can be seen, drastically changed. (Compare these pictures to the original photos in Preview on Camera.) Aesthetically and psychologically it changed for the worst, but hygienically - despite appearances! - it was generally an improvement. The room could become dirty (the wind somehow blew even pine needles in), but it certainly wasn't mouldy. (Our friendly lichen doesn't count!) The air circulation was excellent.

Cladding Removed

2008-10-29T09:04:00.008+11:00

Several days into May and we moved out of our house, back to our long suffering friend's country house. That week we stayed away as Dad singlehandedly removed all the asbestos cladding from the house. The local regulations were about to change so that only 'proper' asbestos removers would be permitted to handle asbestos. We had to deal with ours before that happened. At the end of the week we convinced Dad to take the camera and record the effect. Some photos actually turned out!

Looking toward the kitchen door:

The eastern wall:

The front of the house:

The silvery lump in the verandah area was secondhand insulation we'd salvaged from the Reviva Centre. The guy at the Reviva had asked some exorbitant amount for all the insulation; Dad offered almost nothing, well trained in Mexican haggling. They wouldn't accept it, so he walked away. However as it was about to rain, they found him before he left and told him that, for the price he'd offered, he could have as much as he could carry away. We just about got all of it.
It ended up enough to insulate most of the house, but boy, were we glad when it ran out! Dirty (and often damp) secondhand fibreglass insulation is No Joke.

The far side of the laundry:
The green iron on the side of the building represents the first cladding to be put up - and the last for a while. Although the blue plastic to be seen between the buildings was covering a stack of new plywood, bought specifically for cladding. The window seen behind the little shed was the first window taken out. It came from the bathroom, above the sink.

Anzac Day

2008-10-23T09:40:00.005+11:00

It was ANZAC Day 2006, and we were doing our bit.

At the front line the wire was expertly barbed...

(With blackberries from a seemingly inexhaustible source)

And behind which the trenches were dug.

The back garden was seriously blitzed. (The trench was destined to bear the footings of a rock wall, and the blackberries were destined to die.)

Light Amusement

2008-10-23T09:04:00.004+11:00

Not having a television, we entertained ourselves with the aerial...

It wasn't useful for much else!

2008-10-22T17:13:00.004+11:00

Ok, so I've learned to leave lots of space around photos, and that it's not worth the trouble of trying to stagger them down the page! My apologies to those people who've been bearing with me so far. I hope I'll improve rapidly for the sake of your sanity as much as mine.

So the photos begin to reveal the challenges that lay ahead of us in April 2006. Some things, such as the brown lino, were unbearable, and were amongst the first things to be changed. On the day we moved we began. The small bedroom's linoleom surface was already torn and horrible, so it was decided to take it up before stacking all our boxes in there. Taking up that lino was rather like picking a scab - once embarked upon, it led on and on till there was no more. The next day we finished picking...with the help of one or two crow-bars.

And then we had to deal with all the nails. That was really fun (for the first ten minutes)...

Boy was it a relief when we'd done. The floors were unfinished cypress pine and the lino had only been nailed, not glued. The blue and pink bedroom already had finished floors, and the bathroom areas and verandah were tiled.

Preview on Camera

2008-10-07T11:21:00.031+11:00

This was the house as we bought it and for some of us it was the last time we saw it thus. The next time we arrived at the house - latter end of moving-in day - the lino had been ripped up and the kitchen gutted - what there was of it.

The front of the house from the western corner.

The western corner of the house (kitchen corner)
and laundry end of the garage.

The back of the house, looking toward side door. Side door goes into kitchen (see last pic).

Looking straight down the hill to the garage and crappy little aluminum tool shed. I think there was a dog kennel between.

The eastern wall.

The separate toilet cubicle, (door to bathroom on the left, door into pink bedroom on right, door to blue bedroom behind).

The bathroom, looking to the right from the door.

The bathroom, looking to the left from the doorway.

Fairly self explanatory I hope. Pink bedroom to right; bathroom to left.

The lounge, with entryway partition down right side of pic.

The blue bedroom.

The lounge. Wall seen in small bedroom on other side of room is end wall of house.

Looking across lounge to kitchen. Small bedroom to left, inset verandah to right.

Small bedroom.

The kitchen.

The side door into kitchen.

In the Beginning

2008-10-06T16:14:00.008+11:00

This is a record of our renovation to date - with rather a lot of catch-up to begin.

On the 24th February, 2006, we turned up to inspect a house whose existence we'd only just discovered. It was an unprepossesing box with very few windows (13 in total, I believe) and on a block of land that boasted almost no landscaping whatsoever. It had a little garage with a laundry out the back, a hills hoist and a few mature trees. It faced both the main road and the railway track. However it also had good zoning, had a view out over the town sports oval and park (therefore a pretty view that would not be built out) and had back lane access. It was to be auctioned the next day.

As we had a very limited budget and were searching for a house that we could renovate to sell, thereby digging ourselves a little further out of debt, we decided it was worth attending the auction.

At 11:30 0r so the next day, we arrived and registered ourselves as bidders, information in hand. (To be seen at right>>)

The bidding began at an amazingly low number for the area, and proceeded fast and furious - at increments as low as $5oo. There was a total of about 87 bids! For the last $30,000 or so the bidding was between the neighbours and ourselves. We had set ourselves a definite limit - and there the bidding stopped. We held our breaths, the hammer fell, and we found we owned a house. (Well, it took some negotiation, as we hadn't reached the reserve, but for an extra 10 grand it was ours.) Then the hard work began...

About

2007-10-06T11:15:00.009+10:00

This blog documents a family renovating their house and developing property in a beautiful corner of Australia. As we wish to maintain a level of privacy, we do not publish our exact location or names; however, a contact page may be added soon, for those interested enough to wish to ask us specific questions.

Slick, the head of the family, is a qualified Carpenter Joiner. A combination of his creativity, innovation and life experience has led him to master skills far beyond this field, however, and this circumstance happens to be very handy for renovation on a very limited budget. Plumbing, electrical work, plastering, painting, glazing, landscaping, stonewalling, welding, metalwork and even blacksmithing are included amongst his accomplishments, along with sculpting and other creative processes that have yet to be named. His has been the vision and driving force behind the renovation and the creative problem-solving genius that has largely caused all initiation, progress and completion.

Llick, the 'other half', is the person around whom the household revolves. She is a teacher of seventeen years practical experience in one of the hardest, yet most rewarding, spheres: the home. Llick has homeschooled all seven of her daughters - with two completely through, two in high school and three currently in primary school. Llick is also a keen and highly experience gardener who grows not only for our table and pleasure, but also for the cut flower market and wedding flower arrangements. And last but not least, Llick is the family's Designer-in-Chief. As the interior decorator and designer, she worked closely with Slick to plan almost everything, from floor plan, to landscaping, to paint colour, to fence designs. She mixed or chose most of our final colours, inside and out, and sews our curtains. All this amongst food shopping, cooking, sewing, accounting and being 'Mum' and wife. She is a highly accomplished and priceless part of the team.

Click is the eldest daughter, a budding editor, chief blog-writer and chief assistant to the Carpenter and Designer, both. Years of working alongside Slick, both at home and on jobs, has rendered her a skilled carpenter's assistant. Natural inclination, however, causes more of a leaning toward the theory of design and psychology of space, and her level of perfectionism causes her grief when it comes to dealing with the less precise allowances involved in structural work.

Tlick comes next in age, and - among many varied accomplishments and skills - is our Painter, Photographer-in-chief and classical musician. Fortunately for the rest of us, Tlick is relatively happy to paint - even including cutting-in and fiddly windows and doors. Most of the rest of us loathe the job. Almost without exception, the photos to be seen on this blog were taken by her. On her camera. Many of the non-photographed parts of the renovation were instead treated to the sounds, echoing from various parts of the property, of her clarinet practice.

Blick is another of Slick's assistants, though more design/colour oriented, due to her artist's eye. She is also a dancer and might sometimes be glimpsed in photos in rather unexpected postures. Some things just need to be expressed! She is also Click's main rival when it comes to plastering, but is handicapped by even more of a perfectionist nature.

Mlick is our resident glazier, drummer, 3D artist and nurse wannabe - again, among many other things. She likes nothing better than to operate on someone's splinter or delve into all the goriest details of a wound or injury. She found her particular niche in the renovation through a series of unfortunate accidents involving various windows. Putty is a practical outlet for her artistic leanings.

Klick is our quietest achiever. She is gentle, perseverant, neat, methodical and faithful. She is another of Slick's assistants, a dancer and a bookworm like the rest of us. She also can be distinguished by having by far the longest hair, generally to be seen in a long, heavy plait.

Alick and Glick are both apprentice assistants and are finally getting beyond that annoying habit of making a mess as soon as the last mess was tidied up! Alick is very hands-on and physically oriented (loves gymnastics and sport generally) and has lately been noted for her spacial awareness, revealed in her eye for stone wall building and co-ordination in sport. Glick is the precocious youngest, exhibiting a tendency toward book learning and constant questions, and has recently displayed a knack for cake making.

To God be the glory in all ways, for he has provided for all our needs - from this house and property, to equipment and raw material, to money to pay the bills and keep bodies and souls together. His name be praised in all things.