The post below was sent as an issue of my newsletter, Ready for Rain.
Sometime in the middle of the house project, I learned a lesson about chimneys that has fascinated me ever since. We were talking about the metal tubes, or “flues” that would eventually stick out of our roof and vent our two wood-burning fireplaces. According to the fireplace company, the size of the fireplaces meant the flues needed to be eighteen feet high to work.
What? Eighteen feet? I thought there must be some mistake. An eighteen foot flue meant we’d have two 8 foot metal tubes sticking out of our roof. Why did they need to be so tall?
At the time, I received the end-all-be-all of answers to this question: physics. Unless we could somehow bend the immutable laws of physics toward our needs, the flues were going to be that tall. Apparently, it’s about “pull”, as in, “Without a flue that’s tall enough, you can’t get a good pull and it will be difficult to start a fire and keep smoke out of the house.” That sounded important, but I didn’t really understand the connection between height and effectiveness.
After a bit of research, I think about it like this… The flue is like a straw that sucks air out of a home and carries fireplace smoke with it. Like a siphon that sucks liquid, this kind of vacuum can be self-sustaining, but has to be jump started. Thankfully, we don’t have to suck the air from the top because we can push it from the bottom with heat from the fire.
This is why the length of the flue matters. Once the heated air starts rising, it creates a draft going up the flue that pulls fresh air into the fireplace. That supply of fresh air is what feeds the fire. To keep it going, the air needs to stay warm and travel upward for long enough to establish a flow to the top. That’s the “pull”. Once it’s going, the room can stay smoke-free because the fireplace is constantly sucking air up and out.
If the flue is too short, the flow is difficult to start because the warm air needs to travel upward for a while to get the flow going. That’s where physics comes in. According to a formula I don’t fully understand, the sucking action will happen reliably when the warm air travels about eighteen feet from the fireplace.
This article from the Chimney Safety Institute of America was once of the most helpful I found on the subject.
This was fascinating and I started to look at every chimney and flue I could find. They were all much taller than I remembered. The physics of heat and air flow were governing so many homes that flue height was unremarkable or even invisible. Like gutters and downspouts, they eventually just blend in.
Our Yurt-shaped house had one:
For a while I was concerned about the aesthetics of having two shiny metal tubes sticking out of our roof. Would it look weird? Would people wonder why they were there? My fears faded when I looked more closely at other homes on Orcas Island. They all had unreasonably tall flues that I’d never noticed before.
On Orcas, wood is a very common form of heating. Many homes, maybe a majority, have a wood burning stove that’s a major source of heat in the winter. Multiple companies cut, process, and deliver cords of wood to wood sheds throughout the year. One company, called Axe and Wedge has a well-designed website and a newsletter with nice photography and personal stories.
Before the house got started, we took out a few Douglas firs that were too close to the foundation. The wood was a much lower quality than you’d use for furniture and we needed to get it out of the way. So, we made a handshake deal with a wood processor. He removed all the logs in exchange for dropping off two cords of seasoned (ready to burn) wood in the future. A cord, if you’re curious, is this big.
In the Hunter House in Seattle, we had a natural gas fireplace that was stylish and came on with the push of a button. We thought we’d use something similar in the new house. But then we started visiting more homes and saw that wood stoves and fireplaces were part of island culture. Island homes burn wood. Thankfully, it’s abundant on the island, renewable, and mostly carbon neutral.
This realization helped me adjust to the idea of the big shiny flues. Along with being essential, they also told a story. This house has fireplaces. It burns wood. The flues became a design accent in my mind and something I looked forward to seeing on our roof.
For us, the fireplaces are not essential and won’t be used as a primary heat source. We have efficient in-floor radiant heat, so the fireplaces are for power outages, occasional heat along with ambience, sound, and smell. I can spend hours poking fires and I can’t wait to do so.
A few days ago, part of the flues were installed and I love how they look. Soon they’ll get taller and that’s OK with me. This is an island home.
The post below was sent as an issue of my newsletter, Ready for Rain.
About a year ago, I wrote “Trees, Wood, and Fire” and mentioned how our perspective on the fireplace had changed after living on Orcas for a while:
We had a natural gas fireplace in the city which ignited with the push of a button, and planned to have a similar model in the new house. It was so clean and easy.
Having burned wood for the winter on Orcas, gas just didn’t seem right. I started to feel the new house needed a wood burning fireplace instead. Sure, it would be more maintenance and take time to manage, but that was part of the experience.
This decision turned out to be the first of a hundred decisions about the fireplace “unit” for the house. The story of getting it right provides a real-world look at home design and what it takes to create a one-of-a-kind feature.
The Big Idea
Early in the design process, we saw an opportunity to have a two-sided wall (interior and exterior) that serves as a home for cooking, heating, and entertainment. Inside, we would have a fireplace and TV. The outside would have a second fireplace and grill.
Here’s how it was framed:
Below is one of my first 3d models of the unit from July of 2019.
It’s a relatively simple idea that is also an important one. The fireplace unit will be a central part of the house and the heart of our activity. Getting it right was more of a challenge than I would have imagined.
At the beginning, we had to think about the big questions like how it looks, what it’s made of, and how we plan to use it.
Initially, we focused on the interior unit, with fireplace, TV and storage. It would be the most visible element of the house and set the tone for everything else.
I looked forward to the design process and, as usual, assumed it would go quickly and easily. What happened in reality was a long process of iteration; one design after the other. Between us and John, there was always a new idea.
The Evolution
Let’s look at a few versions of the interior and how they evolved. As you’ll see, it’s mostly a process of subtraction, which I think is a good sign.
The first concept was a unit that was placed in front of the wall, protruding into the room. It was mostly covered in steel, with a recessed section for the the TV, etc.
It seemed like a good idea. The TV would be beside the fireplace and not above it. But, it was boring and we saw opportunities to to add a bit of style.
Then we had a revelation. What if the unit wasn’t a big wall of steel with recessed shelves? What if, instead, the drywall behind the unit was more visible and the elements were simply placed in front of the wall? This seemed like we were on the right track, as it made the space feel more open.
We tried a number of different configurations with shelves and cabinets. The one below was one of my worst attempts, but it got us further down the road.
We soon realized that we needed to get specific about what components would live in the unit. This way, we could use start designing with the right dimensions. I sent this to John:
For the first time, we felt that we were on the right track. Instead of a big monolithic piece of steel, it was becoming a more open and purpose built unit.
This model became our more stable version and one that hasn’t changed significantly:
The same is true for the exterior. After a few tweaks, it was stable and we were feeling good.
The Pressure Is On
We told Drew that the design was close to final and that we were ready to get the work started. He called a friend from out of town who planned to come do the metal work. This meant that we had to have everything buttoned-up so we didn’t waste this person’s time.
The day before the metal worker arrived, we had a call from John, who was having second thoughts about the steel. Before pulling the trigger he and I agreed to at least entertain the thought of using brick as the main surface of the unit. Initially, Sachi was happy to consider the options and I created a model as a test:
That evening, Sachi and I had a design discussion. She was not fully invested in the brick and wanted to stick to the steel surface. I could see her point. Within a few hours, the brick discussion had ended and the arrival of the metal worker was imminent.
We told Drew that we would have final designs ready on Friday morning, less than 48 hours away. Our goal was to meet on site and work through the entire design.
John took on the challenge and, over Wednesday night, designed what became our final specification. We reviewed it, made a few tweaks on Thursday and spent Friday going over the details with the crew on-site. Things looked to be buttoned up and we left feeling good.
Of course, we were not done.
The following Monday (yesterday) ended up being full of more questions about the unit. The vision was clear and agreed upon, but some details needed attention before work could begin.
At the last minute, we ended up adding an access door under the grill and using stainless steel on the front of the grill cabinet.
Right now, we’re feeling relieved and above all, confident that we ended up with a design that we love. Decisions on details will keep coming for a while, and that’s all part of the process of getting it right. We iterate our way to what we want.
I’m excited for the day, probably in just a few weeks, that I can show you the final product.
I Can Recommend…
Show: We’ve been binging Ratched on Netflix. It’s loosely adapted from the Nurse Ratched character in One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest. Dark, stylish, and full of monstrous characters, it’s a recent favorite.
Movie: I first learned about the Safdie brothers from their direction of the movie Uncut Gems (which I recommend). Their specialty is gritty, pressure-cooker dramas that keep your attention. The strangely named Good Time is another Safdie Brothers film that is a wild trip, full of action.
I loved this episode with the Mike D and Ad-Rock of the Beastie Boys along with Spike Jonze. Rick Rubin hosts and the episode and it goes much deeper than their recent stage show. I particularly love the stories from before their fame when they would visit Rick at his dorm at NYU.
Photo:We had a strange mix of fog and smoke that made for interesting scenes on the water.
The post below was sent as an issue of my newsletter, Ready for Rain.
In the process of designing a house, you are often guided by themes or principles that can help you make decisions. For example, we always envisioned a modern house with simple designs and clean lines. When it’s time to select door handles or towel racks, which we did recently, we can imagine which ones fit the theme and narrow the options quickly.
For the record, we chose this Baldwin model in satin black:
Baldwin Estate 5162
This same idea applies to expectations regarding materials and finishes. We want them to look nice, but more than that, we want them to stand the test of time and require very little of our attention.
Windows are a good example. We chose Marvin fiberglass windows that will not rot and never need to be painted. They aren’t the fanciest or most elegant, and that’s fine. Our priority is not having to think about maintaining windows for the next 20 years at least. This isn’t the case with wood.
Few decisions regarding the house have been more pivotal than the choice of siding. It sets the tone of the entire exterior and protects the house from the elements, which can be a challenge living near the ocean.
We always liked the idea of the house having a dark exterior, maybe even black. The idea of a dark, modern home, set in the pacific northwest forest seemed perfect. It’s easy enough to paint a house black, but we started to look into other options.
If you picture a Japanese village in your mind, you’re likely to imagine buildings with a dark brown or black appearance, with a lot of character.
This appearance, comes, in part, from an ancient Japanese method of charring wood to make it more resilient. The final product is called “yakisugi” or “shou sugi ban”. The Japanese found that charring the wood gave it a unique character that made it last longer. Today, people all over the world are using the same method for their homes.
Charring the wood does a few things:
It dries the wood and removes the carbohydrates that attract bugs, making it more bug resistant
It creates a fire-resistant barrier
It strengthens the boards
It reduces maintenance because it never needs to be painted. Over time, the wood remains strong even as appearance ages and takes on a patina as the underlying wood shows through.
It creates a look that’s both rustic and contemporary
We looked at composite siding like Hardie but felt it looked conventional. It also required painting and repainting over time. The same was true with cedar siding. We asked around and found a company in Oregon called Nakamoto Forestry that specializes in yakisugi siding for a price comparable to Hardie. In talking to them, it became clear we’d found the product and source we needed.
The siding arrived on site and was packaged in what could be described as a Japanese level of care, with each set of boards wrapped in wax paper, all stacked perfectly. The delivery person said it was the best packing they had ever seen.
One of Two Pallets
The process we chose was “gendai”, which means that after the wood is charred, it is brushed once at the company. The wood itself is Japanese cypress or “sugi”, which Nakamoto claims is the only species that should be used. We chose the shiplap style board. Once the siding arrived we got our first look and it matched our expectations. It was black, with the character of charred wood.
Last week, we got to see the first sections of the house clad in the charred siding and it looked amazing. The house started to take on a deep black appearance that consumes any light that touches it.
I couldn’t help but notice that the siding was being applied as our air quality suffered from wildfires on the mainland. It seemed appropriate to be using a burnt product, as if it had already survived a brush with fire and came out stronger on the other side. It has been fortified with the power of fire and hopefully protected by it. With a metal roof and charred siding, we feel prepared for what may come our way.
Speaking of the roof… The day after the book launched, our skylights were put into place by a crane. They are among the real jewels of the house and something that changed how it feels inside. The big one, pictured below, is 12’ X 8’. Made of tinted glass and aluminum. It, too, will be fire resistant and hopefully last a very long time.
Skylight over the outdoor living room
I Can Recommend…
I loved this video about a couple living in an off-the-grid cabin in Northern Sweden. It’s beautifully shot and a entertaining look at their version of a simple life. Thanks to Jeff Henshaw for the pointer!
We’ve been watching the show “People Just Do Nothing” on Netflix. It’s a comedy series about failed hip-hop artists in the London suburbs. It’s like The Office mixed with Workaholics or Always Sunny in Philadelphia.
Speaking of shows, we seem to be living in the golden age of series about English Football, fiction and non-fiction. I find them fascinating. These follow a team through a recent season:
On the fiction side is the show Ted Lasso, starting Jason Sudeikis, who plays an American hired to coach an English football club. It has become one of my favorite shows. (Apple TV+)
Lastly, I’ve been doing a lot of podcast interviews to promote Big Enough. Right now, I have 24 either scheduled or recorded. I think you’d enjoy this interview for the Managing Partners podcast because Sachi agreed to participate. You can find all the published interviews here.
A couple of years ago, I became friends with RJ, our local Fire Marshall. RJ and his wife sometimes (used to) host summer parties that are outdoors and include a fire. This is where I first discovered the Solo Stove. It had the blessings of the Fire Marshall.
Since then, the Solo Stove has become one of my favorite products because it makes backyard fires easy, safe, and clean. I often tell people that it’s an awesome piece of engineering, for what is essentially a fire pit. It’s portable and makes it easy to have a fire almost anywhere.
What makes it work is ventilation. It’s designed to optimize air flow and burn hotter than a normal fire. There are holes around the bottom of the stove that pull fresh air into the chamber and circulate it to feed the fire from the bottom and sides. Sometimes it seems like the entire thing is filled with fire.
Solo Stove claims that it’s a “smokeless” fire option and I think it comes close. The heat it produces burns up particulate matter before it rises, which leads to less smoke. It’s made from stainless steel that can take a beating too.
The only thing I don’t like is that it holds water when it rains and creates a messy slurry that drips when moved. This is the version we have. It’s not cheap, but it’s supposed to last a lifetime.
According to my photos app, I took over 6,400 photos and videos in 2024, or an average of 17 per day. This is not an outlier. The camera on my phone is one of my most-used tools and ends up capturing a visual diary. To wrap up 2024, I’m sharing a photo and a short story for each month of the year.
January 2024 – Solstice Wall Work
Leading up to Christmas of 2023, I started posting videos about the Solstice Wall project. To my surprise, the videos got traction and by January, the project had gone viral. I’ll always remember how fun it was to work on the Solstice Wall and feel like others were interested and talking about it. This kind of thing satisfies a deep part of me that I don’t fully understand.
February 2024 – Solar
Since moving into Flattop, we have tried to become more self-sufficient and invest in making the home experience as efficient as possible. Orcas Island gets windstorms that occasionally knock out power, which we soon discovered knocked out the pumps that move water and waste. After a year-long waitlist, we installed solar panels on our roof and a battery in our garage that comes on the instant the power goes out. This should offset about 90% of our total power bill.
March 2024 – Chainsaw
As any Ready for Rain reader knows, I love building fires. In the past, we purchased wood by the cord and had it delivered. The next step is processing wood ourselves, and in March, we got the necessary equipment in place. Along with a chainsaw, I got chaps that cover your legs and prevent injuries. Hopefully, we can now support our wood needs from trees on our property or from the trees of friends.
April 2024 – Driveway Beds
When you drive up to our house, it looks very black, and I wanted to break it up with some natural elements. So, I built new raised beds by the driveway using leftover materials from the Flattop build. Because the beds are so prominent, it took a while to plan. I wanted them to match the house and feel like they fit. This spring will be a time to bring them to life.
May 2024 – Aurora
Before May, I had never seen the Northern Lights. I didn’t expect to see them in our region, but news headlines said it was possible. As we camped with friends, I expected a miniature, far-away version. Once night fell on the first night, a friend pointed up the sky and said, “WHOA!” We all jumped from the campfire and went to an open area to see the aurora borealis covering most of the sky. Brilliant greens and purples moved in waves. I couldn’t believe it was so big and everywhere at once, like a light show inside a dome. 500 years ago, I would assume the world was ending, or some celestial message was being sent.
June 2024 – Solstice Wall
After years of planning and months of work, the summer solstice of 2024 finally arrived. As the sun set, I could see the Solstice Wall in all its glory. Thankfully, it was a sunny day, and my timelapse setup worked. The project was finally completed and passed the “Did it match the solstice shadow?” test.
Screenshot
July 2024 – Boat Steering
The longer I live by the ocean, the more I learn about boats and how to fix them. Boats seem to suffer from entropy more than other objects. They are constantly degrading in one way or another and I want to get better at fixing what I can. Our 15′ boat, Short Story, has always had sticky steering, especially in the winter. As the Spring of 2024 approached, I was trying to unstick the steering and broke the assembly, putting the boat out of commission. I started taking it apart and before I knew it, I understood how it all fit together. I took out the entire steering system, ordered parts, and replaced it. Short Story was back in action. This project is honestly one of my top accomplishments in 2024.
August 2024 – Maybe
Our dog Maybe passed away in August. She was such a sweet, people-pleasing companion. We all miss her.
September 2024 – Squash
As with any garden, learning what will grow can take years. Just because peppers did well one year does not mean they “work”. Each year is a wildcard, I’m learning. This year we didn’t get the kind of warmth you need for things like peppers, but it was a good year for squash. Even on our small scale, I love the late summer harvest.
October 2024 – Mushrooms
Like many people, I was scared of eating wild mushrooms. They’re not easy to identify and can kill you. For unknown reasons, 2024 was a bumper year for fungi on Orcas Island. They were everywhere you looked. A new neighbor, who is an expert forager, took us foraging within walking distance from our house. I couldn’t believe the bounty. We came home with more lobster mushrooms and chanterelles than we could eat. The lesson from her: focus on 2-3 mushrooms you like and can identify easily. Ignore everything else.
November 2024 – Bingo
As the tourist season winds down, people on Orcas breathe a little easier. There are no crowds, and some things close for the winter. Thankfully, local business owners are starting to create fun locals-focused events. One is a night of Bingo at Cafe Aurora, which is owned by our friends Amy and Andrew. Andrew runs the game and the prizes, which are never to be underestimated. In November, I won a single game and came home with a gallon of pepperoncini, five pounds of Lawry’s Seasoning, and a bucket of coconut oil. Amazing!
December 2024 – Barn Bazaare
By the time December arrives, it’s easy to be an indoorsman. The weather is often bad and activities are put on a shelf. One of the things I look forward to is holiday festivities, which are a time to meet up with friends. This year offered something new: a holiday bazaar in a huge barn. It was called Flocking Swans and I hope it returns next year.
Las Vegas is slowly evolving into a place for experiencing more than hangovers, debts, and regrets. I recently visited with family and asked friends for things to do. This is when I first heard about Meow Wolf. Thanks, Jenn!
Before going further, let me explain the Russian nesting doll that is this experience. Meow Wolf is a collective of artists, based in Santa Fe, that creates immersive experiences. The group is partially funded by George R.R. Martin, author of Game of Thrones.
Meow Wolf created an immersive experience called Omega Mart in Las Vegas. The Omega Mart experience is found inside a building that is part of a new district in Las Vegas called Area 15. The name is presumably a play on the highly classified Area 51. The location is a couple of miles from the Vegas strip and the cabbies know it as “Area 15”, “Omega Mart” or “Meow Wolf”.
You arrive in what looks like a recently constructed office park, with multiple three-story buildings. This collection of buildings is Area 15 and inside them are a wide variety of tech-oriented experiences.
As you enter, a loudspeaker detects your presence and barks orders as if you are entering a prison. This is where the apocalyptic future feel of the entire experience begins. A few art installations on the exterior set the tone.
It’s obvious that Omega Mart sees huge crowds. I visited on a Thursday afternoon in January and was mostly alone. This allowed me to experience it all on my own time.
The building that houses the Omega Mart is like a huge warehouse that houses a modern mall, of sorts. There are multiple levels of entertainment options, with bars, restaurants, shops, axe throwing, golf simulators, and more. There are multiple paid experiences that fit into the psychedelic future theme.
Dominating an entire side of the space is a “store” called Omega Mart. The mart is main experience at Area 15 and it’s $49 to enter. On the day I went, walk-up tickets were available.
At first glance, the Omega Mart appears to be a grocery store: brightly lit, with shelf after shelf of dry goods and deli cases. Soon you realize that everything is a surreal and fake version of actual groceries.
It’s interesting and extremely well done, but it’s a facade of what lurks behind it.
You soon find yourself in the back rooms of the mart and step into a new realm of reality, where the products sold in the mart are made, I think. There is a very long and detailed backstory about the fictional Dram family behind the Omega Mart and their use of the “Source” which is an ingredient in its products and is toxic to produce. The glow of the experience is caused by toxic runoff.
The back side of the Omega Mart is dark, cavernous, and complicated. Incredible effort has been put into the music, the lighting design, the installations, and the overall feel. It’s very impressive and otherworldly. I’ve never been anywhere that so clearly appeals to psychedelics.
Overall it’s all very dark and lit with neon colors. Ethereal music plays in almost every context.
The space must be explored to fully be fully experienced. The creative installations are mixed with very normal-seeming office situations. This juxtaposition added to the apocalyptic feel. The banality of toxic runoff, you might say.
These normal office scenes often included surprises. A small door inside a nondescript office may lead to an entirely new realm. A fireplace may actually be a two story tunnel that must be climbed with the use of a rope. A modest office door may open to a hall of mirrors. All the while, Dramcorp’s company messaging is on screens and installations.
The creativity (and entire experience) is overwhelming. Perhaps too overwhelming. I wasn’t fully engaged in the backstory and probably left without exploring everything. The overall message is about the folly of consumerism, capitalism, and corporate greed. And in true capitalist fashion, you can buy a huge variety of items from fake food to t-shirts. I left feeling amazed by the experience and particularly the breadth of the creativity and investment.
If you find yourself in Las Vegas and want to kill a few hours, this is something that should not be missed.
This article was published as an issue of my newsletter Ready for Rain
Under our house, we have a pile of lumber, decking, siding, and plywood that was leftover from the build. Nearby is a pile of two-man boulders. My goal is to use these resources to build out the landscaping at virtually no cost.
I tend to learn by doing. I might sketch out a plan for a project, but I’m always drawn to getting started quickly and stumbling through. And there are stumbles that waste both time and resources. But eventually, I learn enough about what doesn’t work to understand what does, and why. It should be noted that, on this approach, Sachi and I differ.
The Fire Pit
One of the features of living on Orcas Island is the availability of tractors. My next-door neighbor and three friends within walking distance all have them. When I tell them about the work we put into building a patio for a fire pit, they all say, “Why didn’t you tell me? We could have knocked that out in an hour!” And it’s true. We sometimes choose to take the manual route because it’s harder. We want to sweat. We want to feel it.
In this case, the manual route meant leveling the grade and moving rocks large and small across the property. It turns out that rocks are heavy and difficult to move with a little cart. But soon, I developed a system and started moving rocks with something approaching efficiency. I have bruises to show for it.
Moving the big rocks turned out to be the easiest part. Leveling the surface was also easy compared to covering it all with aggregate gravel. Bucket by bucket, we built up a 3-4″ base.
Within a couple of days, it was done and our friend, John, offered a fire bowl he didn’t need. It was the perfect fit for the space. So now, we have even more places to build a fire. Thanks, John!
The Potting Bench
In all the time we’ve spent in the garden, we’ve never had a proper place to work. We’d end up sitting on the ground to pot a plant or assemble a tool. I decided to fix this by installing a potting bench along our fence. In looking at designs, I loved the idea of the bench having a screen where potting soil can drop to the ground or into a bucket. This required a sketch.
I had all the lumber I needed, and dove into the project.
To my surprise, it came out even better than I imagined. We now have a potting/workbench in the garden. The surface is the same as our trim material, so once it silvers, it will match.
Hanging Planters
This project was a challenge; honestly, I’m still waiting for it all to fall apart.
In our first summer at Flattop, we thought it would be useful to mount gutters on the fence and grow strawberries. It didn’t work. Because there’s so little volume, it dries out quicker than you can keep it watered in the summer heat.
So, I had another idea: what if I built planter boxes that we could hang on the fence instead?
For this, I’d use panels of our decking, which is thermally-modified ash that is very rigid, but also a bit fragile. Without a fully developed plan, I started cutting pieces and gluing them together. Initially, I didn’t use screws because I was concerned the wood would break apart on the ends.
I built four boxes and let them dry for a few days. Then, I hung them on the fence and used spare wire fencing and weed barrier to create a bed that drains well.
They looked so good on the fence, and I was nervous. The added weight of soil and water would be the real test. Aaaand one didn’t pass. The day after I added soil, the first box I built came apart. Fun!
Clamps to the rescue. And screws. I ended up pre-drilling holes and covering those boxes with screws from every conceivable location. Lesson learned.
As of today, the boxes are full and currently growing basil, mint, dill, shiso, and zinnias. They seem to be holding for now. Time will tell.
Slowly but surely, the property that was wiped clean by construction is coming to life. We still have a lot of open space to work with and years to fill it. Hopefully, I can find ways to use the resources we have to do a lot of that work. I can’t wait.
The post below was sent as an issue of my newsletter, Ready for Rain.
The first time we had wood delivered was in 2018 and we were living in the yurt. We had never really used that amount of firewood before and looked around for where to store it. We found a decaying old frame sitting by some trees that was apparently for stacking wood. It seemed odd at the time. Would we really keep wood out in the rain? Shouldn’t it be, like, dry?
Not knowing what else to do, we moved the frame into the garage and against the wall. This way, in my mind, it would be dry, safe, and sound. When the wood arrived, Ed Stone, one of the island’s wood entrepreneurs, was surprised I wanted to keep it in the garage. He said, “I don’t know why, but firewood does better when it’s left out in the elements.” By that time, I already had wood sitting on the frame, so that’s where it stayed for the season.
After that interaction, I started to notice other homes’ wood sheds. They were all very similar: A small roof, a floor with wide gaps, and no walls. In some cases, a tarp was used on top of the wood instead of a roof.
With the house built and fireplaces in action, I needed to learn more about the raw material: firewood. What does wood need or want? What can I do to treat it well?
Along with local knowledge, I consulted two books: Norwegian Wood and The Wood Fire Handbook. This put me on a course to making the most of our wood and one big idea stood out: we needed a wood shed. Firewood burns hotter and cleaner when it’s dry and dry wood comes from wood that can breathe. That’s why it was weird to keep it in the garage. By being out in the elements, it could naturally release moisture or “season”. In fact, rain isn’t a big problem as long as moisture isn’t trapped where it can create mold and decay.
The clock was ticking. We had two cords sitting in the garden, which was fine in the dry summer weather. It couldn’t stay there long in the wet winter.
One cord, delivered
We started to consider what kind of shed we wanted and learned that our friends Paul and Erika recently built a very nice shed that seemed to fit the bill. In fact, they used free plans by Fine Homebuilding that we could adapt to our needs.
A couple of weeks ago the work started with a shovel and pick. The shed needed to be level and that meant leveling the ground under it. Digging is always hard, but our ground is probably equal parts soil and rocks. One minute you’re digging, the next, you hear and feel a THUD and realize that a 20 pound rock has to be removed to keep going.
We dug holes, placed concrete piers, tried to get them level, and then realized the fence line we used to line them up wasn’t square. We shook our fists at the sky, and then started over. Leveling and squaring those damn piers was painful. All along I kept reminding Sachi that it was only a wood shed.
We finally got it set and the fun could begin. That meant setting the floor with space for air flow.
Then we built the walls all at once and slowly applied them.
Next was purlins, which are boards that sit vertically under the roof. I had never driven 5″ screws through the thin side of 2X4s, but it worked surprisingly well.
With a few more supports and some galvanized roof panels, the shed was ready and we could finally stack the wood that had been sitting in a pile for a few months.
After years of being on Orcas, our wood finally had a home that should last our lifetimes.
The post below was sent as an issue of my newsletter, Ready for Rain.
The summer plants are dying, or at least fading away. After a season of production, they’re slowly disappearing into compost. Brown leaves blow about and crunch underfoot.
Clouds of dust swirl around the dogs when they play chase in the garden, powdering them with invisible grains that dull the color of their fur and our floors. It’s noticeably cooler, but the sun continues to shine, sometimes through a screen of wildfire smoke.
According to my weather station, it has rained 0.83 inches since August 1st and it’s not an anomaly. Summers in the PNW are almost always bone dry, in part, because we don’t get hot enough to produce thunderstorms that would be a reliable source of rain.
Annual precipitation for our county
For weeks and weeks at a time, the sun shines bright and dries everything to a crisp, including the people.
I love a nice day in the sun, but by this time of year, I’ve had enough. The world outside is a tinderbox that needs moisture before it’s too late. Wildfire is our biggest risk. If we can get through September, we can relax with the knowledge that the rain will finally arrive in spades.
Right now, I’m a little anxious, or maybe just full of anticipation. Each year, I plan for the famous PNW rain to arrive by October 15th. Then, storm season commences and the sun disappears along with the risk of fire. It’s fascinating how quickly and reliably it happens.
I plan on the transition each year, and for now, I wait and watch for signs of change. The weather models are unsure of what will happen. It’s like the dry PNW summer is battling the north pacific currents trying to push into Washington for the winter. Forecasts this time of year often say there is a 58% chance of rain, which is frustratingly noncommittal. They might as well admit they have no idea.
It’s the forecast of rain that feeds my anticipation. I want commitment and confidence. I want a sure thing. For the last couple of days, I’ve been watching a prediction for rain on Wednesday. On Sunday, the Wunderground app showed an 80% chance of 0.20 inches of rain and it allowed me to relax. Rejoice! It’s coming! ?
Then, I checked the weather as soon as I woke up on Monday. Overnight the forecast dropped to a 74% chance of 0.11 inches. It ruined my day. ?
This morning it was 68% of 0.04 inches. ??♂️
At the time of publishing this afternoon, it’s down to 49% of 0.03. ?
I’ve seen this happen so many times. The models get you all hyped and hopeful, only to crush your dreams. At this point, I expect a perfectly sunny day on Wednesday without a drop of rain. What have we done to deserve this? Why do they torment us?
Perhaps, I am addicted to the drama of not knowing. Or, maybe I’m just fascinated by the machinations of weather and the difficulty of getting it right. What gets me through is the confidence that the autumn rain will arrive… eventually. It always has.
As much as I complain about the sun at the crunchy end of summer, I love and look forward to this time of year. As I’ve written here many times before, I believe happiness livesin anticipation. Right now, it’s bright and dry and the summer weather seems interminable. But I have so much to look forward to. The cool misty air, the sound of rain on the roof, and fires in the fireplace. I miss seeing our property in its more natural state: wet and verdant. For me, this is the most wonderful time of the year.
The post below was sent as an issue of my newsletter, Ready for Rain.
We’re fortunate to have two hardware stores for the 4000 or so people on Orcas Island. The Ace Hardware in town is more focused on home goods, like paint and home improvement supplies. In local hardware terms, it’s more buttoned-up.
At the other end of the spectrum is Island Hardware & Supply, which has lumber and construction supplies, gas, and rows of Costco goods. The store has been around for over 50 years and over that time, has developed its own culture and way of doing business that feels uniquely island-like. The photo below is the lumber yard checkout station.
For example, each month, the store sends out a handcrafted one-page newsletter called the The Hardware Herald. The owner, Paul Garwood, winters in Arizona and is the newsletter’s columnist.
This month’s issue captured the culture he’s created. He wrote:
I sit around a campfire with my desert friends and explain that we need no fencing around our business — the honor system rules at the Hardware. They have a tough time with the no fence concept until I tell them that some of our loyal customers actually root for the store’s success.
Just as I think I’m making progress with my desert friends, I mention that a few of our contractors who have a tough time scheduling their orders actually have a key to the store. That’s when they look at me in utter disbelief. I did choose to omit the fact that we have a staff member and his pitbull living upstairs in Harriet’s old apartment.
It’s true. The building is surrounded by all manner of things that could easily be stolen day or night. He could try to lock it all up, but at what expense? He trusts the island’s residents to do the right thing.
Paul’s unconventional way of doing business is found around the store and extends to things like batteries. He asks:
Should we be required to purchase the number that the supplier chooses? Well, yes, on the rest of the planet. Not here. Buy what you want at Island Hardware — you have the option to buy one or 100. And check out these prices!
I can vouch that this system works. I have purchased a single triple-A battery. On the backside of the paper is a list of all the Costco items they resell. It’s a brilliant and helpful service that can prevent a ferry trip and he knows it.
If it’s in stock at Costco Burlington, you can purchase a giant pack of 6 jumbo rolls of Kirkland TP (everyone’s favorite) and save $2.26 over buying the same product from us. Of course, you’d have to burn $4.00 per gallon of gas to get there and back. Oh, yes, there’s the ferry fare. Have I mentioned the value of your time?
Going to the store is always an adventure. There is limited parking, so it’s usually a free-for-all, where you might end up parking between a pile of gravel and part of the road. The exterior changes by the season and these days, hundreds of bags of mulch and potting soil sit unprotected. Like everyone else, we usually throw a few bags into the truck on the way in and tell them at checkout.
It’s probably no surprise that the store takes great pride in its homespun humor, including hand-drawn signs, inside jokes, and a bit of salty attitude. The staff is friendly and helpful, but you’re likely to get a sarcastic answer to almost any question, followed by actual service.
I needed to get some scrap metal tubing for our gate and looked through a bin of scraps. Once I found what I needed, I asked about having it cut. The person quickly got to work and soon, I had the pieces in hand. As I headed to the checkout, I said, “What do I owe you?” and he looked at me for a second too long. He then asked, with a squint, “Do you live here?” I said, “Yes.” and I’ll never forget his reply: “No worries, it will all come out in the wash.” Such is life at Island Hardware.
We started regular visits to the store soon after getting property and felt a little like outsiders. It seemed everyone there knew each other. The staff and customers all knew one another’s names and engaged in island small talk. We would overhear plans for a new restaurant opening, a business ownership change, or a shortage of good firewood on the island. We were the newbies and I’m sure it showed. Our shoes were too clean and our questions too easy. One day, I hoped, we’d be accepted into the Island Hardware culture.
Over the last couple of years, we noticed the nods and knowing glances; the recognition that we were here to stay. We learned peoples’ names and started to consistently see island friends at the store. It’s finally started to feel homier and our shoes have generally been a bit dirtier.
On a recent visit, we collected supplies for a woodworking project and stacked them by the register and something happened that had never happened before. The cashier looked at us and said, “Put this on your account?” We nodded with a quick “yep.” and went to the car. That was when Sachi pointed out the momentous occasion I had missed. We didn’t have to say what account it was. The cashier knew us. We both smiled. After years, we were finally in.
Small and isolated places like Orcas Island need hardware stores and I’m so thankful that Island Hardware not only exists but does so in such a family-like style. More than just about any other place, it is Orcas Island and I hope it never changes.
I write books and run a company called Common Craft. I recently moved from Seattle to a rural island. Here, I write about online business, book publishing, modern home construction, and occasionally, dumb jokes.
I write books and run a company called Common Craft. I recently moved from Seattle to a rural island. Here, I write about online business, book publishing, modern home construction, and occasionally, dumb jokes. 
