Shed Collapse

It's been quite a while since I posted here. The last you all heard, I had announced my plan to spend a weekend in early October trying to "get as much done on the roof as I can." That was nearly three months ago. Do I owe you an apology? Quite the contrary, friends! Have you any idea how dangerous it is to be up on the roof of a structure built by an amateur?  And yet, when I abruptly disappeared from the blogosphere, no one even thought to come look for me! For all you knew, I was laying in a pile of rubble, dead leaves and torn shingles all this time, waiting to be rescued.  It's also quite telling that you read the title of this post and continued to just sit there, clicking and reading an obscure blog, without calling to check on me.  In fact, the shed has not collapsed. It's still standing, nearly a quarter of a year later!

Anyway, I know we're all sorry for what we've done-- me for not posting in a while, you for leaving me for dead--so let's just move on.

I did work on the roof that weekend and another. First I got all the rafters up:

Except I marked but forgot to cut the end of one of them perpendicular to the ground.  Oops.

Luckily, I was able to resolve the issue by executing a tricky maneuver involving a circular saw and a wobbly ladder. It was pretty precarious. Not that you care.

 Next I got the roof sheathing up (9/16" OSB) and then started papering and shingling.

 Ella wanted to come help me, but Erin and I both told her she couldn't come up on the roof. Except she found the ladder and snuck up anyway.  She was a great helper, handing me nails and shingles. She even drove in a nail herself.  We had a lot of fun, especially when Josie was playing outside and we yelled her name, then snickered as she looked for us.

The shed is now done, save for a few things I plan to do in the spring. For one thing, I want to paint it, and for another, I'd like to put up some slats at the halfway point to split it into two compartments, each sized for a single cord. Otherwise, the logs tend to want to roll if you have them stacked to one side.

I may also figure out a way to hang a tarp from the front in the event of driving rain or snow. So far, the logs have stayed pretty dry, but we haven't had any big snowstorms yet. Oh, and a hook for a lantern. And a whiskey shelf. Because if the shed ever does collapse on me, I'll need something to do to pass the time before I'm rescued.

For the Birds

When we left off with the woodshed, it was a mere platform on the ground. It was still a platform a couple of weeks ago, when Erin's brother Pat and his family visited for the weekend. We woke up at 6:00am on Sunday morning (there were four small children present), and it was pouring rain. A few hours later, though, the weather had cleared, and Pat offered to help do a bit of work on the shed. So we went and got some lumber for the walls and got started.

First we built the back wall, hoisted it up, braced it into position, and nailed it in place. We realized we didn't have enough 2x4s for the header, so we borrowed the crossbeam from one of my sawhorses (no, not those sawhorses).

sorry, guy!

Next we put up the front wall.

Here's me sneaking up on the miter saw, while Pat steadies the end of what appears to be a 30-foot board. Damn you, optical illusions!

Next we built the side walls, and made the two end rafters.

Before I started this woodshed, I had a pretty good idea of how to do most of it, except for one part--I didn't understand how the roof attached to the walls, or wherever? I spent a whole Saturday night looking up different plans online, but rejected all of them, because they required "birds-mouth cuts," a term I didn't understand and refused to look up.

Next I called my dad, who has been advising me on this project all along, giving me direction and encouragement. He promised to send me a diagram showing how I should do the roof and the walls. He did, but sure enough:

At first I though, "ahh, well, 'birdsmouth' is in quotes, so maybe it's just a figure of speech." But then I also thought "hmm, what I just thought makes no sense." So I gave in and looked it up.  Good news: a birds-mouth cut is just a triangular cut to allow the rafter to fit over the front and back headers. You know, like all those birds you see flying around with their beaks open at really wide angles!

This weekend I'm planning to cut the rest of the rafters and get as much done on the roof as I can. Thanks for the help, Pat. I wouldn't be nearly so far along without it.
 

I think I canned, I think I canned...

By this point in the blog, I'm sure many of you are pretty intimidated, thinking "Christ, Nate is pretty manly! Look at this guy, talking a lot about building a woodshed, and getting his brother to use a chainsaw on some branches!" It's true, I talk a pretty good game, or have others bring the game for me. But if, because of that, you think I can't make things happen in the kitchen, you couldn't be more wrong.

Erin is off at a bachelorette party this weekend, and Ella is having a sleepover with her cousin at their grandmother's house. That leaves Josie and me to hold down the fort here. I did a little more work on the woodshed today while she was napping, but I didn't want to be outside tonight after she went to bed and it got dark-- I've read In Cold Blood. So I planned ahead to find something to keep me occupied for the roughly 6 hours between when Josie goes to bed and I do.

That "something" was making jelly. Specifically, raspberry and blackberry jelly. One thing I never fully realized is that when you're eating jelly, you're mostly eating sugar. I guess that makes sense, since fruit doesn't just start turning into jelly in everyday life, but still-- the amount of sugar involved is shocking.

I don't drink when I'm using power tools, but jelly-making was uncharted territory for me, so I thought "what the hell?"

The first thing you have to do is boil the jars and lids to sterilize them. You don't want to catch, nor transmit, botulism.

See all that smoke? That's the germs burning off! Also, I don't understand basic physics concepts!

 On the substantive jelly side of things, you basically smash up a bunch of fruit and add some pectin and an obscene amount of sugar and some lemon juice, and boil it for awhile. Here's the fruit by itself:

I didn't get a picture of the whole mixture boiling, I kept procrastinating and then suddenly it was boiling over. But before it boils over, you have a few minutes to do whatever you like. You might take this oportunity to set up the cooling racks the jars will cool on later. Or you might say to hell with the cooling racks, and do something else. Totally your call. Could you cautiously try out a few dance moves, holding your wine glass out at arm's length, like a dance partner?  Of course you could. Especially if you just moved into the neighborhood a few months back, and want to let the neighbors know who they're dealing with.

Anyway, the thing will boil over while you're dancing, so you'll have to snap out of it and pour the jelly into the jars, then put the jars back into the boiling water to process them. If you want to be able to brag to people that you just "put up some preserves," this last step is absolutely crucial.

The jars processing. That vapor/fog is probably a spirit materializing.

Once the jars are done processing, you can take them out and let them cool on a cooling rack for 24 hours.

Go ahead, put them right next to the amazing salsa you also made and jarred today but didn't feel the need to brag about on your blog. Yeah, that's right! What a twist ending!

Platform

This morning I got some lumber and nails and started building the platform/floor of the woodshed. Except I bought the wrong nails, so I had to go get new ones. And I miscalculated the wood, so I had to go get some more of that. Also, we had company, so I visited for awhile. Anyway, I didn't finish the platform yet, but I'm pretty close. As you can see in the top picture, I'm going to double the 2x6 joists in front and back; I made it partway along the front before it was time to stop for dinner, the girls' bathtime, etc. It should be pretty quick tomorrow morning to finish doubling those joists, nail the plywood down, and get ready to start building the walls.

So far everything is lining up well, and the floor joists are level.

I'm really getting sick of that old sailboat photo-bombing every picture, though.

Woodshedding

Erin and I often laugh about the fact that, before we closed on the house, we thought that it needed very little work--sure, the bathrooms and kitchen needed updating, but everything else was fine. I guess in one sense that was true, in the same way that a woman furious at you insists, with her arms crossed, that she's "fine." That may be a bit of an exaggeration, but we have been working nights and weekends to get a lot of things done before winter.

Luckily, there haven't been many unpleasant surprises, but the other day I was jolted by a sudden realization: we don't have any structures for our kids to crouch behind when they're teenagers to experiment with smoking! Sure, there's the barn, but the area behind it is overgrown and covered in poison ivy. Besides, I'll probably be hiding out in the barn from the sullen teenager girls.

Something had to be done, and quickly. Since we need a woodshed anyway, I figured I'd kill two birds with one stone. 

Last weekend, I cleared out a spot on the edge of the woods.

The woodshed is going to be a 4'x16' lean-to, (hopefully) very similar to one my dad built a couple of years ago. I took pictures of his earlier this summer, but accidentally deleted them. Oops. I've since called him a few times to pick his brain about how to do this, and will need to do so again this weekend, as I get started in earnest.

Yesterday I set a foundation of ten cinder blocks--one every four feet along the front and back of the structure. I dug out about 6-8" of dirt under each one, then filled each hole with stone dust to make the blocks level. The first two blocks (the front corners of the shed) took me about two hours of crawling around on my hands and knees to get just right. It didn't help that I was unknowingly using a string level with the stupidest marking system ever. But once I found a better level and got those first two blocks right, the rest went a lot quicker, probably because I wasn't spending as much time swearing at the old string level.

The correct string level, reading dead level.

Though at first glance this looks like a picture of a weird combination cemetery/boatyard in the woods, it's actually going to be the foundation for the woodshed:  

Stay tuned! This morning I'm going to get the wood to build the floor platform; I will post about my progress later. But with a shopping list this decisive and organized, what can possibly go wrong?

I'll be using 4...no, 10...no, 8...no, 6...no...yeah, 6 eight foot pressure-treated 2x6s for the floor.

Defoliation

When we bought the house, the front exterior was choked by a lot of dense foliage. It looked like a recluse's house, perhaps someone who had lost their true love and wanted to hide from the world.

For the past several weeks, Erin has been outside weeding and doing other stuff--I can't say I'm exactly sure what, since I didn't help at all, save for a few seconds of work with the chainsaw.  She even got a patch of poison ivy on her cheek for a few weeks. Now that's dedication!

Now she's got the house looking like the recluse is ready to start dating again.

We didn't even know we had these steps in our retaining wall.

Face First

Clearly, I didn't read the part of the jigsaw manual about not putting your face four inches from the blade. My beautiful face and I are fine, though, and our new cornhole boards are coming out great.