Replacing the deck. Part II: greener than concrete.

Decking
As per Part 1, now that the big old deck was rotting we thought: Let’s have a patio instead. Which we thought would be simple enough. It wasn’t. We were soon hooked on some attractive natural stone, and the project took on a life of its own. Done just before the snow. And now a daily joy.

Since I was talking about decking in Part 1, no further suspense, here is what we did. We went small, just a platform and steps, and we chose cumaru, a Brazilian hardwood. Yes, it comes from a distance. On the other hand, it will last more than 30 years without chemical treatments, unlike our native cedar. We will give it one treatment with a newish eco-friendly water-based solution. We are taking on faith its nanotechnology claims, because it looks just like diluted milk.

Maybe for future owners it will last fifty years, and they will keep it because of the design that lets you step down in any direction. We can't know, but it's nice to imagine, much like picturing the future when you plant a tree. The beautiful reddish brown cumaru will go gray, admittedly a sacrifice for me. It is a peaceful choice, though—we won’t be always fretting, when should we re-stain? and it will blend just as well with the stone.

Hardscape
We were shown concrete pavers and wall blocks, a mix of sizes and colors in a nod to esthetics. We couldn’t get excited. We did use it for small retaining walls at the side of the house as part of re-grading. But for the patio back wall, I quickly added to the con side of the ledger: concrete is not as eco-friendly as stone, and doesn’t last quite a long (go ahead and shake your head, I’m in my sixties, what should I care how long it lasts?).

The main wall we are going to be looking at all the time. When our breath caught in front of Montana Chiefcliff stone, it was true love, and we told ourselves it would be easier to build with than the rounded and jagged rock we have around here, and that rail transport is fuel-efficient. Hmmm, what might go with it for the patio floor? And that was the end of the original budget. We left it far behind. Thank you, Dad, for the funds to do this nicely.

After the deck tear-out came the excavation of an alarmingly deep hole, then the retaining walls, two new drain lines and an electrical conduit. And finally dry-laid flagstone locked in by crushed rock in the gaps. [The polymer and sand products just weren’t going to work for us. We paid a student to dig it back out and went with the crushed rock Tim originally recommended.] Always listen to Tim.

One issue that the original builder had left us was a sidewalk that sits at a wrong elevation compared with the door sill—neither a nice two nor a nice three step height between the two. He had papered it over with multi-level decking and nine inch steps. So it was either re-do the sidewalk or get clever joining the patio up with it. What made all the difference was we had complete confidence in our mason/landscape builder, Tim. We made the stair height short, six inches, and Tim feathered the rest of the difference. I also worried about sweeping vs. blowing, whether chair legs would sink in the gaps, etc etc. I needn’t have worried, Tim made it all turn out wonderfully.

Sensible?
By the calculus of how much longer we may be in our house, and its resale value, the choices we made are. . .well, they don’t “maximize.” But through the glass slider, every day we look out at a gorgeous stone wall, endlessly interesting, and in the rain? Marvelous color depth and high sheen. And the flagstone is pretty sweet, too. It’s all too nice for the house. Maybe the house can learn to live up to our new hardscape—draw itself up to its best posture.

Replacing the deck. Part I: composite decking?

I didn't expect replacing the back deck to be an odyssey. May I share?

You may recall that my outdoor greening-up projects must deal with the shade. Dappled shade to deep shade, partly due to being on the north side of a hill. Not gloomy to us but rather forest-flavored. However, with conifers all around, the large existing deck required a lot of maintenance.

Maintenance to forestall rot, and more chores for safety, to knock down the slippery moss a couple of times a year. Scrubbing, reaming needles from the gaps,* and the first few years, painting on a preservative stain. Don’t think that no gap between decking boards would be better—we inherited that erstwhile design and ended up going to some trouble sawing in gaps.

And in the end, the landfill. We did save some beams for a future foot bridge. But as an aspiring green householder, I wanted our next outdoor living space to last and not end up in a landfill once again.

Our idea was, Let’s have a patio instead. A greener solution, permanent, and easier on us. That was June. As of October 21, it is still not done. But we’re closing in on being done and I’m over my latest anxiety attack about it, so it seems a good time to share some notes.

We were going to need to scoop a level spot from the slope that the deck papered over, put up a retaining wall, decide on patio “flooring” material, and decide how to get down from the door level to the patio level—more decking after all?

For stairs we had used Trex before, and were happy with the material (turned upside down to avoid the stamped woodgrain pattern) and happy with the recycling of plastic that is integral to their material. But time marches on in decking products, and I was surprised to learn that composite decking competitors have jettisoned the recycling idea and are using virgin plastic. Such a charming term, virgin plastic. Tell me, what is the point?? I’m not using enough petroleum in my Toyota, you want me to use petroleum to make more plastic so I can install it in place of wood? Sorry, no thanks. I had just assumed the composites all used recycled plastics. I’m glad I happened to check on it, when the carpenter based a bid on a more popular composite, and found the shocking facts. And they are not content to make more garden-variety plastic; in the interests of consumer demands, they are even using PCBs on the newer versions. You see how things drift.


* We did find a simple tool that was a great help. A couple of nails in a special fitting and set up with a long handle for upright work, and up comes the gunk.

Greener vacation: Beach sweep

On the Olympic Peninsula of Washington State the beaches are varied and beautiful at any time of year. Early March the beaches just north of Kalaloch were also sparsely visited, making for expansive strolls lengthened by lots of warm clothing.

I wasn't surprised to see some plastic bits in the surf and further up the beach. Plastic is forever, right? Well, yes and no. While it can stay intact for decades and is responsible for a swirling mass in the ocean worthy of a good cry, I learned last year the damage doesn't stop there.

It does break down, but is toxic even at the molecular level. I'm not sure whether my brain wraps more easily around immediate danger to today's sea-dwellers or around long-run toxins in our foods and scary changes in ocean ecology and climate. It just seemed a fine thing to do to pick up some of the larger pieces, and soon my hands were full.

Beach walk number 2: Up to Beach 4 (did they run out of names?). This time I came equipped with a bag. This beach looks pristine and very interesting. Up closer, however, I see lengths of rope, the cheap yellow polypro you can get anywhere, as well as green, black, and red. Some half buried, and too much for my little bag. But my husband is joining in, and this is as much fun as any other beach combing I've done looking for agates. Truly. I'm not going all Tom Sawyer's fence on you.

Beach walk number 3: Ruby Beach. Gorgeous rock towers off shore, remnants of the headlands that once were. This time a little stronger larger breadbag. When they collect our garbage, our cabin housekeepers are going to wonder what we've been up to.

We collected a diabolical wad of filament with hooks, and some larger and smaller plastic fragments in a rainbow of colors. I seem to remember someone in the Beachwatchers organization saying that blue is the worst, or maybe it was the most plentiful as least likely to have been mistaken for food and ingested. I could brush up on it, but not right now.

This was plenty absorbing, just the spotting and picking up. And for meeting people this was like walking a dog. A man took notice of our haul and chatted with us about it. The long bread bag filled up to bursting. Is this coming from ship cast-offs? Some items seem like beach party detritis, but not most of it. Most of it is faded, the broken edges starting to round, been in the sea for awhile.

There seems no need to think deeply about all this. I'm content with our catch. But my aching back over the next days, whew. Next time? I'm bringing one of those long-handled reacher-grabbers!

Pay-off at last

Well, it got done and I'm happy about it. It took two more sessions and involved more measuring (the room is not quite plumb) and difficulty attaching the wires to the screws, which were snug against the housing. I ended up doing a cheat--a short length of lamp wire, softer and more maneuverable. Still difficult for me, but done, January 2.

The fun part was playing with position and beam direction of the three light fixtures. I may add a fourth sometime. Yes, this worked out great!

A morning to prep for ceiling track

Getting started on new track lighting--see my previous post for my hopes for this project. Given my capabilities, this is a multi-day project. I've been pre-threading two of those plastic screw-in anchors a day. They are a bear to do, but once done I like working with them. The honking big mollies that came with the track I'll take to the Re-Store.

Since the ceiling fixture power box is over the bed, I make my first trip down to the garage-that-has-everything and select a six foot chunk of 3/4 in. plywood to lay across the bed to stand on, and wipe it down. Is this necessary? It's darned heavy. But it's also pretty weird to stand directly on a Tempur-pedic matress.

I strap on my elbow brace and unpack the track, a mini project in itself--those thick cardboard tubes are just about bomb-proof, with caps heavy-stapled in. Screw driver and pliers and whew! A half hour later it's done and I'm ready for coffee.

I remember my last wiggly (not firmly fastened) electrical box in a ceiling and how hard it was to snap the track into the clip after it was in place on the electrical box. That's what the instructions say to do. How could I could I do the job if I snap the track in the clip first? This is going to involve one additional person, a ladder and a step ladder, swinging the track and holding it one way and then the other for attaching the clip/strap, marking, drilling, setting anchors and connecting wires, but it just might be the ticket. I just have to convince Bill that it's going to be a piece of cake.

There's the whole paragraph about measuring and deciding how close to the wall to go, and painting where the old fixture was--let's just skip it, and talk about the next day, which will be the big pay-off, I hope.

Low wattage: It's not about the money

For me, saving electricity can't be about my personal savings, because the $500.00 on Juno track lighting and a couple of hallway fixtures (Thanks, Mom, for the Christmas present) won't get paid back in energy savings any time soon.

No, what's in it for me is ending the household tussle over leaving the lights on when going elsewhere. Ah, family harmony!

And better lighting, which it absolutely is. I want to copy the success of the study, which I paid a handyman to install. I now direct three can lights (sorry, "step cylinders") to where I want light, using a mix of lamps and beam width. Even with one nice Par 20 halogen in the mix, it's 61 watts. This compares with the ceiling button fixture I took down, which used two incandescents for 120 watts of blah-nowhere-anywhere lighting.

My $500 is for three rooms and a hall, each getting a new lease on life. That's the max I'll spend--I'm going to do the installation myself. So add to the money the cost in pain and stiffness. You do realize that electrical work is darned physical for the arthritic. But I figure aches will be forgotten when I am enjoying new and generous illumination.

OK, I won't gloss over that entirely. To keep to my theme of "ten easy steps" vs. my reality, I'll chronicle the installation in the next segment. Wish me luck.

Enjoy your shower

I love the showerhead that the local utilities sent out by request last year--water saver and a better morning shower, both! Did you get one?

What I just found out is how to get more of these to outfit other bathrooms. They are called "Earth" showerheads and you get them online at www.nrgsavers.com. Mine is a 2.0.

It's simply wonderful.