SIP Sliding Away

This week, I threw up my hands in frustration and did a small redesign.  I have been planning all along to use SIPs for the first floor flooring (above the basement).  Unfortunately, I have been so busy with other projects like fencing our back yard against deer and dealing with my duties as volunteer Treasurer for my community, that I didn’t actually get an order placed.  Add to this that the time frame for getting SIPs delivered turned out to be 3-4 weeks ARO (“after receipt of order”), this would have put me receiving the materials somewhere around when the average daily high temperature crosses below 50°F/10°C and the snow starts to fly.  Plus, the quotation came in about $2,000 over my budgetary estimate.  I could save some of this by using a lower insulation SIP – which would probably be OK – as the basement will generally stay closer to ground temperature than outdoor temperature, I won’t lose as much heat through the floor as through the walls.

The local code enforcement officer indicated that I needed to either get a floor in place or put up a (rather permanent-sounding) fence around the site before the winter, and I didn’t want to spend a whole lot of money on fencing if I could just get the floor on.

To top it off, I was having trouble getting a useful structural load analysis that reflected my intended usage.  Somewhere in here, while I was busy trying to compute the transverse load for a 4′ span from the modulus of elasticity of extruded polystyrene, I turned a corner.  Was this really worth going out on a limb and then jumping from treetop to treetop over?  Load tables and beam strength calculations for wooden joists were incredibly easy to come by.  And they showed that all it would take was a 2×6 member spaced every 24″1 to span over 8 feet.  Heck, even a measly 2×4 would span 5 feet.  If these were then reinforced with a bottom layer of plywood (which would effectively prevent the bottom of the beams from stretching and make them even stronger) and topped with subflooring, I would have a structurally sound flooring solution.

It would need to be insulated though.  Polyisocyanurate foam board (often abbreviated PIR) is about the best insulation density you can get in an off-the-shelf product (R-6.5 per inch) and so 4 inches of this would put me at R-26 – exactly where the cheaper SIPs would have put me.  However, that would involve a lot of cutting foam to fit around the structural members.  I was also worried about the thermal bridging from all of the wood, particularly if I needed to space the joists 16″ OC to ensure a rigid floor and not need multiple layers of subflooring to achieve it.

I finally came up with what seemed like the key innovation to me.  If a 2×4 can span over 5′ at 24″ OC or nearly 6′ at 16″ OC, then as long as it’s structurally supported every 4′ or 5′, the 2×4 can actually serve the role as a floor joist.  Adding a 2×6 for every 3rd member would increase the strength further.  The PIR foam board I was looking to use2 is 2″ thick, meaning that it would in principle fit in the difference between a 3.5″ 2×4 and a 5.5″ 2×6, and from there it would actually provide some additional support to the 2×4.  At this point I could get away with only cutting each PIR board a little bit to fit between 2×6 members, and around the supports.

But now I’m only at R-13!  That isn’t very good insulation for a potential 25°F/14°C temperature differential.  Adding batts of 3.5″ rock wool, which is exactly designed for 2×4 spaces, adds another R-15 (total R-28).  The final assembly looks something like what is shown here.

And, I should be able to start getting the parts more-or-less immediately.  And, the whole thing will probably save me some money relative to even the cheapest of the SIPS.  Some extra labor, to be sure, but the sooner I can get started on it, the more likely I am to get this done before real winter hits.

  1. The construction terminology is 24″ OC standing for “on center” – that is, the centers of the boards are 24″ apart.
  2. I don’t really care for Dow but the appears to be the only suitable PIR I can get locally.

A better form of weeding and feeding

Hello readers.  This morning I’m writing as I sip a homemade smoothie. My wife Raederle turned me on to smoothies and it helped me get back to the waist size I had when I was in college – I dropped about 3 inches in only a month or two, and am very pleased.

Today’s smoothie was brought to me by my back-yard garden.  And not actually by anything that I planted on purpose, but by the weeds that are growing in my pepper patch.

  • Step 1 – remove weeds
  • Step 2 – wash off stray dirt
  • Step 3 – blend1 (with some added water and a little “green powder” if you’d like)
  • Step 4 – enjoy while writing to you about this discovery

Now maybe I’m just lucky to have a really good seed-bank, but I’m pretty amazed at how many of the weeds I’ve got growing in this patch are edible.  Principle among them is purslane (Portulaca oleraceabut we also have kale (Brassica oleracea, although only certain cultivars are grown as kale), dandelion (Taraxacum officinale), wood sorrel (Oxalis acetosella), and amaranth (probably Amaranthus retroflexus, but hard to tell) in the patch.  Of these, I’d recommend keeping the amaranth for salads or cooking – in smoothies it seems to leave an unpleasant astringent sensation.  You should probably toss the dandelion if, when you pluck the leaves off, there is much visible white latex sap, as they’ll be unpleasantly bitter.  Look for these in your garden and consider whether you might make a meal of them rather than simply tossing them in the compost pile.

Between them are some not-very-edibles: quackgrass (Elymus repens) – which fortunately is no longer prevalent; ground ivy (Glechoma hederacea) – a mint-family member which some consider edible but which others consider toxic; and something that is probably Queen Anne’s lace (Daucus carota) or wild carrot (Daucus pusillusor parsley (Petroselinum crispum) but which is to easily confused with more toxic things such as wild parsnip (if I give you the binomial Pastinaca sativa wikipedia will lead you to common garden parsnip, which is confusing because USDA seems to agree that Pastinaca sativa is a noxious weed and not a food plant) or even poison hemlock (Conium maculatum).  If you were me, you’d just weed these out and not bother trying to figure out whether they were edible, because your blender would easily fill up with the known goodies above.

  1. This step is a lot easier with good high-speed blender like our BlendTec or a Vitamix.

IMBY Solution: Lemon Juice

With this post, I’m starting a new series called “IMBY Solutions” where I look at a backyard or local replacement for something that otherwise would need to come from far away.

Consider lemon juice. With the exception of little dwarf trees that can (and must) be moved in and out of the house for the winter, ours is not a climate for growing lemon trees. But lemon juice is a really useful ingredient – I enjoy it just as a hint of flavor in water, but there are many recipes that call for it.

Here is today’s IMBY Solution: pink champagne currant juice.  Although it’s not exactly the same flavor, and not quite as tart as lemon juice, it makes a pretty fair substitute.  I have one small bush in my yard, and it produces a lot of berries. Red currant could be used as well, but if you want a juice that looks anything like lemon juice and doesn’t add natural food coloring, the pink champagne current is a better match.  In terms of production – that is, converting berries to juice – one could use an electric juicer, but I don’t have one and I’m interested in lower-tech solutions anyway.  So here is my process.

  1. Collect and wash berries.  Get rid of any that look bad.  I had 1-2 cups of berries to start with.  You may want to dry them a little to prevent dilution of the juice.
  2. Wrap them in a thin kitchen towel or other clean, thin cloth, preferably cotton.
  3. While holding over a clean bowl, bunch up the towel so that all the berries are in a pocket and you can twist the loose ends to tighten the towel around the berries. As you continue to twist, the juice will be squeezed through the towel leaving the pulp inside.  You may need to “knead” the berries somewhat to make sure they’re all getting properly squished.
  4. When done squishing, pour whatever portion of the currant juice you think you can use immediately into a jar.
  5. The remainder of the juice can be put into ice cube trays to freeze for future use. (Unlike factory-processed lemon juice, this juice will start to ferment over time, so unless you want currant wine or currant vinegar, freezing is the easiest way to keep a fresh supply on hand.)

Enjoy!

There and Back Again: Part 1

As regular readers may already know, I have been travelling a lot this year.  My latest journey was not purely work, but a combination of two weeks of work in Ferndown, Dorset, England, plus a little more than two weeks of travel with friends through Ireland and Scotland with a few days in London at the end.  Since it’s not particularly practical for me to reconstruct all of the things I may have purchased, and how local they were to wherever I was at the time, I thought I’d post a bit of a travelogue instead.  I’ll skip the worky-bits.

Jun 27-28 – Bournemouth, Chalke Valley History, Jurassic Coast

Due to the (slow) machinations of my employer, my two week stay at my favorite hotel near the office was interrupted by lack of availability. As a result, I had a brief stay further south in Bournemouth, an English south coast “beach resort” town.  In a truly tiny hotel room.  tiny_hotel_sinkJust to give you a sense, this is how they fit the sink into the bathroom – they cut it in thirds, took the middle third with the faucet, and turned that sideways. Not really… but that’s about how big this is. However,  the beach was very close – only two blocks up and about 100 feet down. It seems that most of the coast is made up of large cliffs dropping off to the beach below.

bournemouth_beach

On the weekend, one of my colleagues from work kindly offered to take me to the Chalke Valley History Festival, a combination of living history (re-enactments), military history (including tank and WWII airplane demos), and talks on history ranging from prehistoric archaeology through the origins of the space shuttle program.  No easy way to sum this up in one photo, so I present here cvhf_fightera WWII bomber, cvhf_vikingsViking invaders, and cvhf_knights_interviewa group of knights being interviewed before they fought each other (with real swords and armor, but not real death) for the grand prize.  cvhf_tardisOh, and a TARDIS, because England.

The next day, another colleague graciously took me to his house, introduced me to his family, and fed me lunch.  Then, they took me on a tour of part of England’s “Jurassic Coast” – so named because the rocks that have been exposed here through tectonic activity are from the Jurassic period, and (not coincidentally) contain a lot of fossils to prove it.  You can see the strata here.jurassic_strataThis part of England is known for its chalk soils – not exactly your typical blackboard chalk, but rather harder white stone (but still soft for stone) made from the same calciferous shell sediment. One thing that I learned, and found quite surprising, is that this kind of chalk deposit is also typically rich in flint – because flint appears where siliceous material somehow infills areas within the chalk.  Interesting, even Wikipedia claims not to know exactly how this happened.  “The exact mode of formation of flint is not yet clear…” As if 145 million years hasn’t been long enough to clear this up, but we might know soon?

We walked a ways (up what my colleague’s daughter affectionately calls the “hill of death”) to see the Durdle Door, a huge stone arch carved by the sea.  For size reference, those are people on the beach.jurassic_door

The beach here was itself interesting – a typical “pebble beach” created by the sea washing away the softer materials and leaving only stones. Not as comfortable to sleep on or as practical for the building of castles, but very pretty.jurassic_pebbles

 

Then it was back to work (and the Kings Head Hotel) for another week. The main other exciting thing that happened was that I finally got a chance to see the changing ringing in Wimborne Minster rather than just hearing it. The church is known for having one of the finest sets of bells in the southern part of England, and every Tuesday the bell ringers practice their art. On this visit, I finally made it up into the bell tower to watch how the acoustic sausage is made.  (It does involve squeezing a lot into a small round space, and twisting and pulling things, but I think the resemblance ends there.) Suffice it to say that while I learned a lot, most of it was about the magnitude of my own ignorance.