The post below was sent as an issue of my newsletter, Ready for Rain.
Lately we’ve been busy preparing the house for paint, which is most a project of masking.
Next Tuesday is Election Day and I wouldn’t want to distract you from voting. 🇺🇸
Ready for Rain will arrive again the following week. Until then…
Each week, I share media recommendations and a story from my life on a rural island off the coast of Washington State, where I'm building a custom home and learning island culture. Learn more.
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Builders and architects can work wonders, but they won’t live in the house. They won’t use it every day. They don’t have access to the daily rituals and events that fill the day. That information is the domain of the homeowner, who must explain what is needed, a few times, to make sure the house fits with these routines.
Despite all the watching and planning, we still didn’t know why the westward wind was happening. That all changed a couple of weeks ago when we hosted a small dinner party that included a retired Coast Guard officer. We talked about the wind and he said, “Oh, that’s a land breeze”. I had heard of a sea breeze before, but never a land breeze. I had to learn more.
I soon came to appreciate the glass wall as a feature of the house that exists in multiple states. During the day, it disappears and reveals a view over the Salish Sea, as it was designed to do. But at night, when darkness hides the view, the glass becomes a mirror to the interior. One minute you’re looking at the water, another you’re looking at yourself. I think of this as the time between glass and mirror.
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