The Parable of The Shed: Why 30 years is not forever.

One useful aspect to all of us forcibly attending Camp TEOTWAWKI now, is that many people truly are starting to be more mindful of their choices.   Think before you invest.  Look before you leap off your burning bridges.  That sort of thing.

Guidance in making long term decisions though, is hard to come by, and harder to judge.  Does this expert advisor actually have a clue, or ...  have I wound up with Alfred E. Neuman,  yet again?

Not long after Spouse and I built the Little House, and actually started living here, it became quite clear that we needed more space.  15' x 20'; including a wood stove, piano, and kitchen sink, and dining room table, just does not leave a lot of room for projects, like building a set of shelves.  No place left to walk, while that is under way.

Virtually all farm type operations include outbuildings; a barn, a shed- a workshop.  So it wasn't too difficult to decide that we did, indeed, need a multipurpose shed, not too far from the house.  We figured it should serve as a: work shop, bad-weather wood shed, seasonal storage space (eg. storm windows and skis in summer), materials storage (eg. boards, plywood), tool storage, empty mason jar storage.  You know.  A shed.

So quickly, you get to "where, exactly"; "how big", and "how".  "Where" was pretty limited; by the need to be close; "how big", it turns out, was partly determined by "how".

Standard construction around here would be a "pole barn" - treated wood poles, gravel or concrete floor, pre-fab roof trusses, and sheet metal sides and roof.  You just go the lumber yard, and order the stuff.  And there are loads of experienced construction teams who can zip it up for you in a couple days.

It was very easy to decide not to go that route- we had no money whatsoever.  Which meant- materials out of our 40 acres of oak/maple woods, and/or scrounged materials, and a "barn-raising" party for labor.

Then, you have to work out the details.

Something you pretty quickly find out, when you're living this kind of do-it-yourself life; the details are NOT "important".  The details are EVERYTHING.

Oddly, we teach our children the opposite, these days.  "Sure, teacher, I got the answer to the question wrong, but you can tell I understood it!" - will often get you a pity-pass in schools, even in universities.  But not in real life.  My father pounded this one in when he was an engineering prof, and I was in High School; and I got to listen to him gripe about his students.

  "But Professor, yes, I got the math wrong, but it's just a decimal point!  You can tell I totally understood the problem!"  "I don't give a good goddam if you 'understood' the problem!  Your goddam building FELL DOWN; and 370 people died!!  The only thing that matters is the right answer.  The F stands. "  And he would shake his head in amazement at their incomprehension.

So, I was well trained to do my homework regarding construction, and I'd adsorbed quite a bit of information via osmosis- and from helping my father re-build most of the houses we'd lived in (many).  Looking around at the old homesteads here, I found quite a few old chicken coops and corn cribs that were made with just white oak posts for their basic support; planted in the ground; and easily 50 years old.  Obviously, white oak can last a long time in our soils; the stated lifespan for chemically treated poles in direct soil contact is usually 30-40 years.

Doing more homework- the expected lifespan for white oak fenceposts around here is less; 20-30 years.  The difference is attributed mostly to the roof- poles under a roof should spend more of their life dry.

Most of my available poles are not exactly "white oak" - Quercus alba; but burr oak; Q. macrocarpa.  The textbooks say, though, that in this case, they're pretty much the same in regard to rot resistance.

So, using my own oak poles, we should be able to put up a shed that will last 30 years; no sweat.  We had a good supply of 12"-8" diameter red pine poles for rafters and plates; pine boards and 2/4's for other structure- and we helped a friend tear down a local railroad station for windows and siding.  We did buy metal for the roof.

When you're 30 years old- 30 years into the future looks indistinguishable from "forever", or "until we die."  And, guess what?  It isn't.  Here I am- 30 odd years later-

And sure as heck; the time has run out on some of my burr oak poles.

This is the SW corner pole.  And, as you can see- it's entirely rotted off- the bottom of the pole is now a good 6" above the ground.  Hm.

We just discovered it, absurdly enough.  The shed had gone through a phase where it got increasingly cluttered and useless, to the point where I only referred to it as "The Dread Shed"; and it got to the point where Middle Child and his wife decided to totally overhaul it, bless them.  Unburying the corner- where we already knew a woodchuck had chewed through the outer wall (and wrought havoc inside for months); we discovered the rotted off pole.  Oh, so that's why the windows have been breaking.

The shed is not falling down.  One of the advantages of using big logs for plates and rafters- they're enormously strong, and well secured on the other poles- most of which are not rotted off.  This corner is the wettest one.  But- the building is sagging, putting stress on everything.  

So now what?  Fix it?  Tear the shed down and rebuild?  I don't want to.

Dammit, I'm 60 years old now, busy, and I want the bloody shed to be in usable shape; I don't want to be building, or fixing.

Why didn't I build it to last in the first place?

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That turns out to be a complex, and highly significant question.  Lissen up; and maybe you can avoid my mistakes.

A)  I was young (30) and stupid.  I thought 30 years was forever.  It really really isn't.

B)  Everybody I asked thought 30 years was forever, too.  Or plenty long enough.

C)  The entire construction industry is built around the idea that structures should not last more than 50 years; even homes.  Then you should build a new one.  You want to benefit from the constant improvements in modern materials and design, don't you?  Well then.  They really like that- so if you read their text books, or go to them for advice- that's what they'll tell you.

and

D) Building structures with longer life-spans is quite a lot more expensive.  Like double.

E) Financial advice is always- that investments in durable structures are not sensible.  The reasoning there: if you put that money in the stock market instead, it would give you better returns (no laughing, now); and, they're quite sure you will move to a better, more expensive location later in life, as you become more successful; so you won't get the benefit of the more durable structure anyway; and whoever you sell your old place to will not pay you any premiums for the better buildings; people just don't.

F)  That's the way we build stuff in the States- always have.  Ever since Europeans arrived here- they've been sure they were going to move in the next 10-20 years, to someplace better. Why build for the long term?

See any holes in any of the logic here?

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I'm cogitating, pondering, and kneading all this stuff right now for a couple of specific reasons; I've got to figure out what to do about this shed; and- about future construction here.  We're in the process of building space for animals (guineas! ) - and you can check out a recent rhapsody on barns by Sharon, here.

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More in the next post.   Think about it!  And think about all the stone farmhouses in Europe... and how old they are...

The Guinea Saga; A Post-Peak Parable; part 1

The bumps in the road-

I sometimes think half my life is spent delivering one form or another of "sorry this is late, but..."

After that last post, I was intending to zoom off and write the brilliant story of the guineas, so far- and, as happens so consistently around here, zoomed instead into a bump in my road; requiring me to spend all my energy elsewhere for several days.

The biggest problem with bumps, for me, is that they put you behinder than you were, on your previous plans.  More catch-up to play.  I have to keep raising the limit on my National Chores Debt- but what the hay, if an extra trillion here and there doesn't bother Congress, I should be able to do it too, right?

At the moment, I'm chasing the urgent chores that desperately needed to be done 4 days ago, and alas, writing about the guineas isn't right up at the top of the hyper-urgent list.

So although I'd rather write this as one piece, I guess we'll do it in short chunks, as I can get it done.  Here's the first bit of the Guinea Saga; A Post-Peak Parable-

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Building the Chicken Dungeon (otherwise known as the part-earth sheltered, part sod, poultry house) has been taking a loooong time.  As good solid permanent structures are apt to.  Meanwhile- the year progresses, and the ticks do not abate- so we ordered the guinea keets anyway.  Maybe, we thought, that will make us build the Chicken Dungeon faster.

See, now I need to explain why we're calling a guinea housing facility a Chicken Dungeon.  

Adding guineas to our operation here is not a whim, nor a single -purpose project.  Yes, we need to do something about the tick explosion.  (The geese, incidentally, didn't stick- they both appear to have been "homing geese" - and when they got the opportunity; they went home.  Someplace else.)  But; far far beyond the ticks; we really need to have animals- of a variety of kinds, become a part of our crop operations.  We have bugs that need to be eaten- in the apples and other crops; and we have way way too much grass- which we cannot afford to just mow forever.  The guineas are intended to be the start of all that- chosen because they are more able than most to take care of themselves; and they have the reputation of being excellent "watchdogs" - alerting everything else on the farm to the presence of predators; four-legged, two-legged, or winged.  And they eat ticks, and weevils, of course.

We quickly discovered, though, that our real farmer neighbors do not take guineas seriously.  Many have a few- as pets, for amusement.  The idea that we're contemplating a future with maybe 300- 500 guineas on the place- just freaks them out too much.  But somehow, the fact that we're building a sod poultry house- is mildly amusing, but not as threatening.  And, we do intend to add chickens- as foster parents for the guineas, at least- pretty soon, so it's not a prevarication, much.

Back to the guineas.  The keets (chicks) are cute little devils.  They came in the mail; 33 of them; and at 2 days old, were avidly chasing the laser spot from the infrared thermometer we used to make sure they were at the right temperature- a hopeful sign for our fantasies about them becoming real tick controllers.  Somehow this video came out soundless; they peep, at this stage, just like chickens.

They are closer to wild than chickens, though they were kept as domestic fowl by the ancient Egyptians.  Which means, among other things; they fly; strongly.  And, it turns out; very very soon.  We discovered (no, the web information did not really point this out!) that guinea keets grow full wing feathers, and start flying, at the ripe old age of 3 weeks.  Which meant they really needed to get out of their brooder box- now.  And the Chicken Dungeon was far from ready.

Ah- temporary construction.  

Basic advice- don't ever, ever, ever build something temporary.  For one thing, you're wasting resources and time that should go into the real, permanent solution for your need.  For another- the overwhelming tendency is for temporary structures to slide, sneak, and lapse into permanency.  Because they're "good enough"- at the moment- and something else is now more urgent.  So you are stuck with what is an admittedly inferior, inadequate structure- for all eternity.  Temporary structures never die- you just add wire, and duct tape.

Knowing that fully, I set out to build a temporary guinea pen.  It was a matter of life or death for the guineas, literally, and here I was on the farm, all alone- Spice off gallivanting- allein, und abgetrennt, von aller freude.  (holy smokes, my spell checker speaks German, I had no idea.)  Anyway- I was stuck; no choice; temporary is necessary in this case, and I hate it.

The bloody thing consumed about 4 days of my life, and should have taken about 4 hours.  First I had to clear some ground for it- and the mower wouldn't start.  So I had to fix the mower.  Then I went in to town and bought chicken wire- only to have Bruce present me with a big weasel the next morning (not an Ermine, as I first thought, but a Long-Tailed weasel; a significantly more powerful predator, but still slender enough to maybe just walk through the mesh in chicken wire).  So- back to town- a different town, a farther town with a bigger farm store... which still did not have the "right" wire...  

Another reason not to build this way;  if I hadn't been under such pressure to build something now, I could have ordered the right wire, through my nearby store.  Now I'm stuck forever with 50' of half inch/half inch hardware cloth that is not, and will never be, exactly what we need.

Then spend a morning gathering the steel T posts (pulling old ones by hand, buried in sod...) then an hour searching for the post driver- which is missing in action...  All of this in deep Equatorial African Jungle sweat conditions; hot, windless (all these damn trees I planted cut all the wind) and 290% humidity; blink, and you sweat- and the sweat drips onto and over and fogs your glasses- incessantly.  Drive a post in that, please.  Wrangle tightly wrapped 4' wide x 50' long rolls of wire onto the posts, and stretch it, alone... then chicken wire over the top, so the little bastards can't just fly out and turn into Instant Owl Chow-

Heroic work, I assure you.

Finally, the bloody thing is functional- I hope.  Time to put birds in.  At this point, we have, I think, 28 keets, after a few "failed to thrive" and passed on.  They need, really need to be out of the brooder, but- does the new pen really work?  Will it be safe?  Will it actually keep the birds in?  Don't put all your eggs in one basket, right?

So I moved 10, I thought- and put them into the pen.  Except, when I let them out of the transfer box- there were actually 11.  You cannot count more than 10 guineas while they're moving around, I guarantee; impossible to be sure if you've counted that one, or that one- or twice.  Just counting 10 usually requires 4 tries, to be sure.  And when you're stuffing them into a little box, some of them squirm back out again.  (Once in, and the box is closed, they're actually very quiet and comfy.)

Sure enough- there was one little place where the wire didn't sit right tight on the ground- and one of the keets immediately ducked under the fence- and was out.  Who knew they were half mouse?  It doesn't mention this anywhere in the references I could find.  Immediately- zip- up in the apple tree, way up in the top (my apple trees are not dwarfed).  No way I'm getting that bird back.  Sigh.  This is why you start with 30ish- they're not all going to make it, no matter what.

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Tune in tomorrow (I hope) - for the next episode- it gets more exciting, I guarantee-