The Mystery of the White Oak

The guys are still working inside. Even though the Noah’s ark-like deluge we suffered the past couple of weeks is over.  So I said to myself, says I, what are a couple of big, tough restoration workers doing inside during these last sunny, pleasant days of fall?  Why aren’t they taking advantage of the “warm” weather and working like crazy outside?  The anticipated completion date for this phase and a half of the restoration work is sometime in November.  I smelled a mystery…well, it was either a mystery or the forgotten tuna salad sandwich I found shoved into the bottom of my bag.  Either way – something smelled fishy.  I did what any curious Communications Coordinator would do-- picked up my magnifying glass, dusted off my copy of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and went straight to the Director to get the answer to my question.


The following is a dramatized version of the conversation that ensued:


CC - “Why aren’t the guys working outside?”


D - “They’re waiting on lumber.”


CC - “Oh.”


D - “They need wood with a certain moisture content.”


CC - “What exactly does that mean?”


D - Silence


CC – Silence


D – More Silence


CC – Throat clearing.


D – “Oh are you still there?”


CC – “Yes.”


D – “That’s a good question for our architects. Why don’t you email them with it?”


Clearly the Director wasn’t talking.  There was obviously more to this mystery than she was willing (or able) to fill me in on.  It became painfully obvious to me that I needed to (actually) do some work.  So I composed an email and sent it off to the Preservation Assistant at Tilly Architects, I’ll call her Agent L (L stands for Laura, I’ve mentioned her once before in the blog – I can’t believe I just told you that! It’s because I am the Communications Coordinator, and I just feel a need to communicate information all the time. Curse this gift of gab!).  I sent her a deceptively innocent email, basically asking what moisture content was and why it was an important factor for the type of lumber used in our restoration.  The truth is, I felt I was on to a much bigger plot – a planned sabotage, if you would, of the restoration project.  I had a hunch (my mother never made me walk with a stack of books on my head like the other moms did – hence the hunch).  I also had a suspicion something more nefarious was afoot at the Hill and I was determined to get to the bottom of it.


Agent L tried to pull the wool over my eyes by giving me some “legitimate” answer to my questions:  “To answer your questions, Western is working to locate the specified lumber, White Oak, No. 2 with 19% moisture content.  Finding lumber with the right moisture content for restoration projects is extremely important.  Wood with too high or too low moisture content can be either too wet or too dry, causing the wood to shrink or swell.  Since we are repairing the structural posts and studs and eventually the sill, we want to avoid a large amount of movement (swelling or shrinking) of the wood elements.”  Sure it sounded believable and apparently is technically true, but I didn’t buy it.  Especially not when I read her next line:  “Because the required lumber sizes are big (8.5x8.5, 4x4), finding certified white oak with the necessary moisture content has proven tricky.”  Right there!  Did you read it?  Finding the right kind of wood has proven tricky.  My spider senses were tingling, something seemed a little off here…her answer was too smooth, too professional, too factual to take at face value.  So I began to look deeper.


Who would benefit by extending the length of time it took to complete the first phase of work and part of the second?  Would the architects?  Would Western?  Then it occurred to me, what if this was an inside job?  What if one of our own was behind this scheme?  Could it be the Director or the Curator?  Maybe they had taken a sudden liking to being at the house by 7am in the morning, maybe they discovered how much more work they accomplished after having seven cups of coffee in a three hour time period instead of their regular four.  Or was it the Education Director?  She hasn’t made an appearance yet in this blog which is already suspicious.  Maybe she was enjoying the break from all of those fourth and fifth grade classes whose yearly pilgrimages to the museum have been suspended due to the restoration work – maybe enjoying it a little too much.  That made much more sense.  But as I know from having read a mystery tale or two in the past, sometimes the suspect is someone who appears to be above reproach, who seems to have an unassailable, airtight alibi.  Who would that be in this case?......

The List of Suspects:

Western - is their absence a sign of guilt?

This question mark symbolizes Agent L and her cohorts at Stephen Tilly, Architect - nameless, faceless - guilty? 

Maybe a certain Director has been hitting the mug a little too frequently and thinks a delay in restoration work will fuel her habit?

The classic signs of a coffee junkie are evident in this picture - but does it mean the Curator is guilty?

Perhaps someone doesn't want to interrupt her beauty sleep with real work - is the Education Director the likely culprit?

OMG, it’s me!  I’m the sinister, scheming suspect; the dastardly, daring dilettante; the maniacal, menacing….mom. 

Public Enemy Number 1

Of course, it all makes sense now.  Who would benefit the most if this restoration project was delayed?  ME!!  Because I am the blogger.  I’m the one basking in the adoration of my readers, I’m the one with all of the fame and glory. It’s so simple, and uncomplicated and genius…just….like…me!!  How did I not see this before?  And what do I do about it now that I know the truth?  Stash myself in some tiny little cell as punishment? – oh wait, already in one-- it’s called my office.  Put myself at the mercy of some warden? – that position’s filled, she’s called the Director.  No, I’ll just sit at my computer and bide my time – let the rest of the staff, the architects, and Western think all is well, I won’t clue them in to the discovery I made about me.  Then when the opportunity presents itself – I’ll flee this little popsicle stand I call Albany, cut the husband and kids loose, and head someplace where nobody will ever find me.  Someplace where the sun is always shining…I’m thinking Vegas baby, I’ve always had a hankering for sequins and slot machines.
Nooooo!  The Director just received word from Agent L – Hey (Jude) has located some reclaimed white oak just the size we need.  The moisture content of this wood is on the low side of what we need, between 7 and 8%, but by wetting the wood, Western will be able to raise the moisture content.  The architects will accept anything within a range of 15 to 24%.  Drat!!  My scheme to delay the restoration has been foiled!  So long Vegas dreams, at least until another underhanded plot is conceived and carried out.  Hopefully I will be smart enough to catch my next double-cross - as a wise president once said, ‘Fool me once...shame on...shame on you......you fool me, you can't get fooled again.’

A River Runs Through It

You know what’s no fun? Bulk mailings. Bulk mailings are no fun, as I learned this past week. Especially when you have to mail out 1700 pieces of mail. Maybe some of you out there think that that’s small potatoes, and maybe you’re right. Or maybe you’re being a little judgmental and should take some time to reevaluate how you view the world. All I know is that stuffing 1700 flyers into 1700 envelopes, stamping 1700 envelopes 1700 times with the museum’s permit number, printing out 1700 return address labels, and 1700 address labels, and then putting those 1700 return address labels and 1700 address labels onto the 1700 envelopes, and gluing 1700 envelopes shut and putting 1700 envelopes into zip code order seemed like a lot of work to me. I say seemed because I approached the bulk mailing less as the person who physically was doing the work and more as the person coordinating other people who did the work (including a bunch of volunteers and pretty much all of the staff) - I’m not doing that work by myself, that’s just crazy! But from my vantage point (the floor underneath my desk where I hid so no one could find me) it seemed like a lot of work.


You know what else is a lot of work and absolutely no fun? Cleaning up after Mother Nature. In case any of you have missed the rain that poured down outside your window almost every day this past week, we at Historic Cherry Hill can tell you all about it. We can tell you that restoration workers don’t work outside in the rain. (Talk about a bunch of sissies). Luckily Joe The Hammer was able to spend a day inside measuring the windows, but unsurprisingly not a lot of exterior work can be done in a downpour. We can also tell you the sound water makes when it flows along a needle beam right into the north parlor of the house. It sounds like water coming from a low-running faucet, and it looks like water coming from a low-running faucet, and it leaves a mess behind like water coming from a low-running faucet would when it is running into a historic house and onto the historic wood floors. In case I haven’t been clear enough, earlier this week some rain decided to take a journey following the route provided by a downward-angled needle beam (downward meaning the exterior end of the needle beam was higher than the interior end of the needle beam) right into our north parlor. Now a situation like this is already the stuff of nightmares but what gave this mini-disaster a particularly Wes Craven-Freddy Krueger-Nightmare on Elm Street type of feel was the way in which the running water was discovered –

By the Director…

while conducting….

a special tour…

to a group of graduate students from SUNY’s Public History Program.

They say you can tell a lot about a person by the way they react in a crisis. When the Director discovered during her tour that HCH had its very own Niagara Falls, she tried to pretend that it wasn’t really happening while she continued the tour, and then at her first opportunity she went back to plug up the leak. Interesting approach. Probably better than what mine would have been – acting the part of the little Dutch Boy with my finger in the dam (except instead of using my finger I would have been using my cupped palms to try to catch the water) while I laughed nervously and turned fifteen shades of red.

The Director was able to temporarily stop the influx of rain water into the parlor. Towels and a fan were used to clean up the mess and there was no lasting damage done to the floor. The next day the Director purchased a large amount of plastic sheeting and attempted to temporarily correct the problem on the outside of the house until the project manager from Western, named Jude (I like to call him Hey), arrived to deal with the problem permanently. The permanent solution also involved rerouting the gutter that previously was dumping water right onto the naughty needle beam to instead dump its water in a more appropriate place, namely the ground.

There you have it, straight from the Communications Coordinator’s mouth – bulk mailings and downward-angled needle beams are a lot of work and no, I repeat, no fun.

(And to Big D and The Hammer, in case you guys are reading this, I was totally joking about the whole “sissies” comment. No disrespect meant. Really, please believe me. You guys are very strong, and your nicknames make you sound like a couple of hit men or bald-headed bouncers at a biker bar, or pro-wrestlers, and I just want to make sure you understand that I do NOT think you are sissies. I’m very attached to my knee caps, and I don’t like swimming with amphibians of any kind. Just so we’re clear.)



The river ran through here.



Between the red arrows you may notice a section of the gutter missing which contributed to the amount of water that flowed into the house. 

This view better shows the Director's temporary fix until reinforcements could arrive.  She may be no Bob the Builder, but she got the job done.

The professionals came and fixed the problem.  The shiny metal you see in the picture filled the gap in the gutter.  Also notice the absence of the plastic sheeting.  A nicer look all around.

This picture may be difficult to view, but if you can look past the chain link fencing in the foreground you will see the bottom of the gutter where, thanks to the shiny metal piece shown in the previous picture, the water can now flow to the ground...instead of into the north parlor.

  

More of the Same

It’s probably not a good sign when I approach Big D and The Hammer for a work update and they scurry for cover. And let me tell you, these guys tower over me and I’m about 5’9” - it’s not easy for them to scurry (and it’s also pretty obvious when they try and hide behind one of the posts of the deck). They probably view my weekly visit as something akin to a root canal – painful. Not only do they have to put up with my vapid smiles and vacant stares, they have to try and explain things to me with crayon drawings because real construction plans are too advanced for my simple eyes. It’s not easy for me either, you can imagine my own feelings of trepidation when I walk out the door of the museum and around the corner to interrupt their work and ask my questions. At least they’re good-natured about it (once it’s clear they can’t escape)…when Big D spied me through the chain link fence Wednesday morning he greeted me with a deadpan “Not you again!” He was joking, I think, although, he didn’t really smile afterwards and he did pantomime hanging himself to The Hammer when he thought I wasn’t looking. Thankfully they didn’t have to explain any new concepts to me this week – it was just more of the same work. They’re still working on shoring up the east façade of the house to conduct their repairs to the exterior posts and studs. I forgot to specify something last week. All of the interior repairs they have completed thus far as well as the shoring and planned exterior repairs they are working on now are on the north side of the east facade at this point. There is still the south side of the east façade to get to, and when they do, they will be starting the process all over again! And there are still those darn windows to restore, all 49 of them. But that’s another tale, for another day.

Oh where, oh where has our little porch gone?

 

Oh where, oh where can it be?

Oh, there it is, neatly stacked.

These are called lally columns. 

The needle beams (shown here perpendicular to the house) are anchored to the lally columns.

Interior view from the north parlor showing where the end of the needle beam pokes into the room.  



Ode to Fall

I love fall. I love apples, sweaters, cider doughnuts, pumpkins, Halloween, Halloween candy, beef stew, oatmeal. I love fall. (That was my lame attempt at a haiku…I know it’s not a haiku but that’s because I didn’t pay attention in English class when we learned about them…which is a sad commentary on the length of my attention span if I can’t make it through a haiku). While the calendar hasn’t officially declared fall yet, the crisp bite in the wind and the falling leaves show us what Mother Nature suggests we can do with our calendars – advance them forward by a few days. Why? What were you thinking?


There is another thing I like about the fall (surprisingly, it doesn’t involve food) – fall cleaning. Yes I admit it – I enjoy spring and fall cleaning. But let me be clear, it doesn’t mean that I am a regular practitioner of the biannual tradition - I’m lucky if I can get my kids cleaned twice a week, let alone my house thoroughly cleaned from top to bottom twice a year. Still, I enjoy the feeling I have after a job well done, a house well cleaned. This fall, I turned that love of cleaning and organizing towards my Director’s office. My Director turned me back towards the door. But I persisted and after a couple more knocks on her door and a pretend phone call from a senator who had a bucket of money he was looking to spend on a historic house (how did she fall for that one in this financial and political climate?), I was able to distract her for a moment and sneak into her office while she hung up the phone in disgust.

Gesturing to her current “organizational system” which consists of stacks of papers sitting on every level and unlevel surface available in the office she shares with the Business Manager, I suggested it was time to clean out her files and organize her space. After a lot of discussion back and forth, the Director agreed to a fall cleaning. (If I was talking with any other person, I would categorize the “discussion” as foot-stomping and pouting on the Director’s part and stony determination on my part.) Once the dirty work of going through file drawer after file drawer began, the Director started to second guess the advisability of following through with the job, and to fearfully question whether this was the right thing to do. My answer was, it’s too late to go back now.

There’s a point to my rambling, I promise. When I arrived at work this morning, I commented on the work Big D and his partner in restoration, Joey the Hammer, (totally made up nickname, just thought it went well with Big D), were doing. In the midst of the discussion, the Director began to voice her sudden fears about the whole restoration undertaking, asking herself more than me, “Are we doing the right thing?” She knew the answer to her own question: We don’t have any choice. We have to address the structural issues facing this house. We have to resort to these serious measures because these are serious problems. She got a handle on her fears and went back to trying to renegotiate the timetable for the fall cleaning of her office. (It has suddenly dawned on me that her restoration fears may not have been real but instead may have been a means to delay the inevitable continuation of office organization.)

Stall tactic or not, as I inspected the restoration work - more closely following our conversation, I had a better understanding of the Director’s sudden doubts. When I walked into the north parlor of the house, I could see clear through the wall to the sun-shiny world outside. And no, the accidental inhaling of radioactive plaster dust did not give me the superhero power of seeing through walls (although the accidental inhaling of plain old plaster dust, which is floating in the air in liberal amounts, has given my airways a white-washed look). The reason I could see through the lower portion of the wall was because the wall was not there. The brick nogging has been removed from between the posts and the room is exposed to the elements. I don’t know how anyone could avoid the moment of panic and second-guessing a scene like that generates. Particularly when one works in a historic house where shoes with pointy high heels are not worn because of the soft pine wood floors. (If you do wear pointy high heels you walk around on your tip-toes like an overgrown fairy, lest a heel should come in contact with the pine wood surface.)



Enjoy the panic inducing view!



The interior studs are shown here with their dutchman repairs.  The dark colored wood is original, the light colored wood beneath is the new wood.  The long piece of light colored wood to the left of the repaired original probably provided support while the repairs were being done.



This is a picture taken a couple of weeks ago which shows the new pieces of wood used for the dutchman repairs to the interior studs prior to their installation - each piece of wood was cut to size to fit with a specific interior stud.


Putting on my investigative blogger hat (a truly hideous looking thing) and my “I swear there are some functioning brain cells in my head” face, I approached Big D and The Hammer. Interrupting their work, I asked if they would mind explaining what they were doing. They didn’t mind at all, Big D and The Hammer are very accommodating guys. They explained what they had done thus far as well as what their next steps would be. I warmly thanked them and trotted back downstairs to my little cave, sat down in front of the computer and couldn’t remember a single thing they told me. I tried my best to write down what they said but when I read over my first sentence, ‘They will use a [blank] thing and also a needle[?] to keep the house from falling.’ I knew there was no help for it - I had to bother them again.

Back outside I went, to take pictures and figure out how I could get them to repeat everything they just told me, without letting on that I had the memory of a small sieve. Luckily Big D was able to interpret the clueless look on my face and checked to make sure I understood what was happening. That was all the opening I needed, and in the next minute I was under the porch with the guys, looking at c channel beams, listening to Big D patiently explain things a second time. From the blankness of my stare it was apparent that the lights were on but no one was home. Luckily the ever resourceful Hammer grabbed the construction drawings and visually showed me what they were doing. Then I got it! Finally! Until I got back to my desk and promptly forgot the names of all the materials being used. I put a call in to my engineer husband (no way was I going back outside to bother them a third time), and he, more than familiar with my mental limitations, verified my understanding of the process. Once I hung up the phone with him, I felt pretty confident. That confidence hitched a ride out of the museum as I tried to explain the process to the Director and the Curator - several torn sketches and a few tears of frustration later – they got it.




This is the area under the front porch where Big D and The Hammer tried to explain their work to me for the second time.  Did I mention that I bothered them while they were on their break?  I know, could I be any worse?


Now I’m going to try and explain it to all of you (my apologies ahead of time). Big D and The Hammer are prepping for dutchman repairs to the exterior posts and studs of the east façade of the house. To carry out these repairs, they have to shore up the façade before they begin removing the rotted sections of wood. They have already completed dutchman repairs to the interior studs, which did not require the shoring the exterior repairs do. They have to anchor temporary posts both inside and outside of the house - the temporary interior posts will sit on the sill and the temporary exterior posts will sit on the ground underneath the front porch, rising up through holes cut in said porch. On top of these two posts will sit the needle beam. The needle beam will rest on the temporary posts, perpendicular to the house. The restoration guys have anchored c channel beams along the exterior façade of the house, just below window level. These c channels will rest on top of the needle beams. Basically, when they begin to cut out the rotted wood of the original exterior posts and studs, (thus removing the original support for the walls of the house), the weight that once rested on those posts and studs will be transferred to the needle beams and theoretically the façade of the house will not collapse while they complete their work. Comforting theory indeed. No wonder the Director was questioning the whole process. Who in their right mind would not doubt whether or not it was advisable to knock out the walls of a 223 year-old house and cut off the bottoms of posts that are supposed to be holding up the house? It makes me nervous thinking about it, but then again, my office is directly underneath the façade of the house where they are working so I may be a little oversensitive. Should anything, theoretically, go south, I will probably go with it.




View of the c channels, located below window level, along the length of the facade.  When the dutchman repairs are done, the weight of the house will shift via the c channels to rest on the needle beams.  



They are called c channels because the shape of the beam resembles a c.

Looking at the physcial evidence of the structural damage of the house sure cured my fears about the holes in the walls.

This evidence is a little bit of overkill on the part of the house - okay we get it Cherry Hill, posts and studs are hanging in mid-air, you don't have to be so dramatic about everything. 

Just like the dreaded fall cleaning the Director was forced to undertake – the restoration project must continue on as well. It is work that needs to be done, and the longer it is put off, the worse things will get. Even if the necessary work is liable to give all of us on the staff moments of doubt and hysteria, we have to think of the bigger picture - our responsibility as caretakers for a cultural institution. There’s no backing out now. (The work of shoring the façade is going well, the same cannot be said for the fall cleaning of the Director’s office - that project is on a temporary hiatus.)

Is the glass half empty or half full?

Riddle me this: If the front porch of the house has to be taken down to allow access to the sill but the front porch can’t be taken down because it is holding up the east wall of the house – what do you do?

Well, if you’re Western Building Restoration, Stephen Tilly, Architect or a structural engineer from Structures North Consulting Engineers, Inc. what you do is, you have a meeting where you figure out what to do. Just such a meeting was held on Monday August 30th at Cherry Hill.

When I asked the Director for a recap of the meeting she actually squirmed a little in her Director’s chair and said something to the effect that the meeting was really supposed to be for Western, the architectural firm and the structural engineer and that she wasn’t privy to the entire conversation. I’m not questioning my Director’s listening abilities. I’m wondering if the coffee machine was malfunctioning that day or something because that might explain the situation better : no caffeine = no interest in living in this cold cruel world. But again, that is mere speculation on my part. Thankfully Laura from Stephen Tilly, Architect was good enough to write up the minutes from the meeting and share them with us, (she was probably fortified with a strong supply of caffeine).

The results of the meeting were both positive and negative. Since I consider myself an optimist I choose to begin with the positive findings from the meeting.

First of all, almost all of the brick nogging was intact between the studs and posts (okay - sure the mortar was In worse shape but everyone knows mortar lacks the backbone that brick nogging possesses). All of this lovely intact brick nogging will be preserved since we’re in the business of preserving.

Exterior view of brick nogging and posts.  Note the spineless mortar -It's just pathetic, I don't know how the nogging lived with it for 200+ years.

Another exterior view of the nogging and posts

Interior view (without the flash) of the brick  nogging, brace and post in the South Parlor 

The same view with the flash.  Now, was that a prototype of an 18th century peephole?  Maybe it is true that people were a lot shorter back then!  (Note, the diagonal wood is a brace.  Bracing prevents the studs and the wall from moving horizontally - which would be a bad thing)

The bases of the exposed posts and studs were in better! shape than was previously anticipated. Thank you very much 18th century wood!

Interior view of exposed post in the North Parlor

Interior view of post in the North Parlor, clearly missing something at the bottom!

The visible areas of existing sill were also in better! than expected condition – and of course the goal will be to preserve as much of the original historic sill as possible. Once the south end of the sill is fully exposed, Stephen Tilly, Architect and Structures North will determine the condition of the sill and see if the entire sill can be preserved instead of carrying out a complete replacement of the sill which is currently the plan.

That was the good news as proclaimed by HCH’s apostles: Western, Stephen Tilly, Architect and Structures North Consulting Engineers.

Now for the less than good news. Some of that quality brick nogging might have to be removed in order for Dutchman repairs to be carried out on the corner posts and exterior studs. (Apparently a Dutchman repair does not refer to a construction worker of Dutch descent who wears wooden clogs while he works…yeah I was way off base with that. From what I understand now, a Dutchman repair basically is when a portion of rotted or degraded wood is cut out and a new piece of treated wood is inlaid in its place…no clogs involved whatsoever). That’s not so bad.

Except that isn’t the only not so bad thing. The bottom of the brace north of the entry door between the exterior studs has deteriorated and as a result a gap exists between the bottom of the brace and the sill. Either the bottom of the post will have to be repaired with an epoxy consolidation or the deteriorated brace will have to be replaced.

Okay, but what else is there really? Oh, right, yes, well when the southeast corner post was being exposed some black ants were seen double-timing it out of the newly exposed premises. The exact species of ant was not identified at the time. As the rest of the post is exposed in preparation for Dutchman repairs (once again, Dutchman repairs does not refer to a Dutch construction worker named Maarten with an affinity for wooden shoes), Western promised to keep us all posted in case evidence of an infestation becomes apparent and Tilly recommended treating the wood with a borate preservative treatment, something with the active ingredient Disodium Octaborate Tetrahyde. (Borate is a form of kryptonite for carpenter ants)

Did I mention that Western thinks they might have to remove the floorboards in the center hallway? The hope is that Western will be able to access the sill from the exterior wall but the fear is that the previously expressed hope will be dashed and they will need to remove the floorboards to access the sill from the interior.

The imperiled Center Hall floorboards (also the future site of HCH's Communications Coordinator Exhibit - Please do not provoke the staffer)

We already knew that a few of the floorboards in the north and south parlors would be removed but that wasn’t as big of a deal because the said floorboards run parallel to the sill and are already damaged as a result of the house’ structural problems. The center hall floorboards however are in perfect condition and they run perpendicular to the sill. Removing floorboards from the hall is much more invasive and will result in a bigger surface area loss. Plus, as Western bleakly pointed out, when the floorboards are eventually replaced, it will be very difficult to get them to fit together as tightly as they do now. Okay, thanks a lot Debbie Downer.

But let’s not dwell on the negative. Let’s instead find out the answer to the riddle at the beginning of this post. Work will be started on the north end of the building – repairing studs and posts. These repairs, having been completed, will provide stability for more than half of the building. That stability is pretty important in setting the stage for the south end work. The south end repairs are in the words of Western – “A tricky little bit of business” (not exactly comforting, but not exactly panic inducing unless you are the Director who has taken to walking around with a paper bag in her hand at all times – just in case).

How do you remove a porch when said porch is holding up the facade of the house? You cut holes into the deck of the porch and insert the shoring (most likely some really long, sturdy pieces of wood), then you brace the shoring against the house, through these holes, and then you (now start holding your breath) remove the porch (keep holding) and be very optimistic. A tricky bit of business indeed – especially when you are removing the porch while keeping your fingers crossed – that’s down right painful if you ask me.

Things really aren’t so bad, even if they aren’t so good. However, if it turns out that the center hall floorboards need to be removed that might be bad news for me. My office currently sits directly underneath the center hall and I’m pretty sure that my ceiling is composed of the hall floorboards and nothing else. If the floorboards are removed then yours truly’s office will be visible from the first floor. Western has kindly promised to install temporary railings along the edge of where the floorboards are removed in the north and south parlors so that when the public comes through on our restoration tours, they will be able to get a close look at the sill. If they remove the hall floorboards they will install the same temporary railing in the hallway - which means that while I am sitting at my desk answering the phone, I’ll be on view for the public above. But since I am committed to looking on the bright side of things – maybe I’ll get lucky and the public will throw peanuts or seeds down at me like I’m some kind of wild animal on display at the zoo, at least then I won’t need to bring in a lunch.



**Update**

I wrote a couple of weeks ago about Operation Garbage Retrieval which was an aborted mission that the staff of the museum were preparing to carry out to liberate our garbage can and lawn bags from within the confines of the construction fence currently encircling the front porch of the house. If you remember, I called off that mission when it became apparent that the museum had ready access to the area. Well, apparently one of our staff didn’t get the memo (or in this case the blog) because she went rogue. I’m not talking Sarah Palin rogue – I’m talking Rambo rogue. In defiance of a direct order, the PA/FSA took matters into her own hands and rescued the garbage can (there was no hope for the lawn bags).

PA/FSA (with personal photographer) slips through the fencing

It was a poorly thought out course of action, a waste of resources, and totally unnecessary, and yet it felt so distinctly like a patriotic, red-blooded reaction to the tyranny of terrorists that maybe it was Sarah Palin’s type of rogue.

Mission Accomplished

For your viewing pleasure

I apologize for not updating the restoration blog last week, but I promise there will be a new post up by the end of this week.  In the meantime I encourage you all to check out the following link.  The video you will see was inspired by this blog. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oLapQDnJXFk

Enjoy!

Operation: Garbage Retrieval

I have to apologize.  I'm afraid I may have mislead you all when I made the bold statement last week that the Director is a magician.  It turns out...not so much.  The proof of her muggleness being August 16th (which, in case any of you forgot, was a Monday).  Turns out what I naturally assumed was magical ability apparently is only a combination of luck and talent.  (All the more disappointing because I thought she was going to be able to finally grant me my ultimate childhood wish - to ride on a unicorn.  I never wanted to own one - you can imagine what an expense that would be plus the whole liability aspect of the thing, what with the horn and everything)

Monday, August 16th arrived.  That's it, that's all I have to say about it - Monday, August 16th arrived.  Tuesday, August 17th arrived and I did see a truck that may have been related to Western Building Restorations, Inc. pulling out of the driveway as I turned in to make the long haul up the hill (It's not called Cherry Hill for nothing).  August 18th arrived but I didn't because I wasn't in that day, but I was assured that nothing happened.  August 19th arrived and bam! - now we were cooking with gas because as I drove up the hill to park in my usual parking spot I was greeted by a sight that never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would find so attractive and welcoming - a silver chain link fence.  That beautiful specimen of metal work (has anyone really taken the time to truly appreciate the links of a chain link fence?) stood in place, ringing the front section of the porch.  But not only was there a fence, but by golly by gosh there was a real live truckish-sort of vehicle (cars have never been my thing) with a, be still my beating heart, a real live employee from Western Building.  In my excitement, I grabbed my purse, got out of my car, (got back in my car to put the car in park), jumped back out of the car and circled around the back end all the while grinning idiotically as I sought eye contact and once having gotten it, gave a booming hello.  Judging from the confused and slightly alarmed look on the man's face I realized my enthusiasm was a bit overdone so I tried to reign it in and settle for a more normal expression, unfortunately I think I only succeeded in looking like someone suffering from partial paralysis of the face as I tried to keep my lips from smiling while talking at the same time.

Can you see the morning sun glinting off of the metal loveliness?

(I'm sorry I just have to take a moment to sit and listen to the melodic sounds of plaster being removed from the interior wall of our South Parlor on the floor above me...and I'm back)

I entered the building to find my Director sitting at the table in the volunteer room, or perhaps it would be better to describe her as being held up by the table in the volunteer room.  She fixed me with a bleary-eyed look and explained (because the Director does not complain...never...ever) that she had been at the museum since "7:45!"  Now I'll admit that I wasn't very impressed, especially because my morning started at 6:23am with me waking up to the weight of my soon-to-be three year old son sitting on my spinal cord and cheerfully inquiring, "When mommy's done sleeping then I can have cereal?"  But I did my best to look sympathetic and understanding.  I think I must have emoted the right mixture of both, because the Director seemed to perk up a little (that could have something to do with the IV bag of coffee that was producing a steady drip of caffeine into her veins which was weird but since she didn't mention it, I didn't ask about it) then informed me that the chain link fence I was so enamored with went up this morning and that the construction guy, we'll call him Big D, would begin to remove the interior plaster from the North and South Parlors of the house today.

And what's more, he actually did.  Trust me, I know because I've been hovering around him with a camera in my hand like some crazed Justin Bieber fan and probably scaring the h-e-double hockey-sticks out of him in the process.  Trying to learn from my disastrous first attempt to talk with an honest to goodness restoration worker, I approached him a second time, with a slightly less psychotic smile on my face, introduced myself, asked if he minded me taking pictures and then, because when I'm feeling a little self-conscious I tend to uncontrollably spew forth unfiltered sentences,  I announced that I was probably going to be bothering him "with lots and lots and lots" (no exaggeration folks, I really did say 'lots and lots and lots') of questions and then proceeded to bother him with lots and, well you get the point, questions.  Luckily he was able to choke back his fear of the crazy lady in front of him, and explained that he would ultimately be removing the plaster from the two parlors, as well as both sides of the front door, from just under the windows down to the base boards.  According to the construction schedule provided by Western, the work of removing the interior plaster in those locations, as well as exposing the front facade of the house by removing the exterior siding will take place over the next week or so.  As it turns out the porch demolition won't be taking place till closer to Labor Day.

Preparation for removal of interior wall plaster in the South Parlor

At one point, when Big D was out of the house I slunk back upstairs, to take pictures without running the risk of freaking him out even more than I had already managed to do that day.  The Curator and the Intern joined me and we examined the work done so far.  The baseboard had been removed and the nogging (rough brick masonry used to fill in the gaps in a wooden frame, to function as another source of structural support) was exposed.

The visible brick masonry work is what those in the know call  "nogging"

Our goal is to reuse as many of the original materials as possible.  Therefore the baseboards will be kept safe to be reinstalled at a later date and the Curator informed me that lath (narrow thin strips of wood used as the backing for plaster) that is removed will be reused to the greatest extent possible.  Of course her information exposed the depth of my ignorance concerning lath and plaster techniques, so I sheepishly asked her how that all worked again (I like to add in 'again' at the end of my questions, because it implies that at some point I did know the full explanation for the question I'm asking, but for some inexplicable reason can't recall it at the moment). 

She explained that the lath is nailed in strips to the studs across the length of the wall.  Once the lath is in place, an initial, binding coat of plaster (which is full of rough particles like animal hair) is smeared against the lath, the rough particles in the plaster are necessary for the first coat to adhere to the wood.  Then a couple more layers of plaster are applied on top of that first rough coat so that by the last coat there is a smooth finish in place. 

Big D then is removing the coats of plaster which of course are covered by the existing wall paper, and hopefully the remaining lath will be reusable. 

Have you no shame madam? - The exposed lath of the South Parlor

I don't know if the hardware, (i.e. nails) will be recycled as well, but clearly it's made of strong stuff having hung out in the walls for a couple of hundred years. 

These were the only two nails that were keeping the whole east side of the house from collapsing (note - totally lying for dramatic effect here, give me a break, how else do you make a picture of old nails exciting?)

I never expected the first day of real construction work to go off without some unexpected problem turning up.  That's what makes the process exciting to talk about.  I was not wrong.  Very quickly it became apparent to our Facilities Support Assistant/Program Assistant (FSA/PA for short, which it is not)  that there was a potential hostage situation in the works.  The chain link fence that has Cherry Hill under temporary house arrest (pun intended) is also holding our garbage can, and several rotting lawn bags of weeds and leaves hostage under the stairs.  We have been unable to establish communication with them at this point, but we have gotten some glimpses of them through the fence. 

In this surveillance photo you can just make out the huddled forms of the hostages

They look about as well as you can expect a garbage can and rotting lawn bags to look under the circumstances.  They're holding up, but who knows how long they'll last.  The FSA/PA bravely offered to scale the chain link fence after a brief reconnoitering mission.  But gathered around the table in the volunteer room we discovered a logistical problem that threatened the whole mission - once inside, how do you get the hostages out without making a mess an alley cat would love?  Turns out the whole thing was an overreaction on our part as a quick conversation with Big D revealed that the gate will open in the front to allow access to the porch and the areas under the porch.  Stand down staffers, I repeat, stand down.

On a serious note, it's exciting to see the real construction work begin...to touch studs of wood that haven't been exposed in a couple of generations of Cherry Hill family members...to ponder whether two nails we're holding in our hands are of 18th or 19th century origins.  But as thrilling as it all is, I promise to continually fight the very strong impulse I have to ask Big D if he has a spare construction hat that I could wear while I'm at work, or at least wear while asking him lots and lots and lots of questions.  It's tough, because I think I could pull off the whole construction hat look, but I am going to try to quell the urge.

The following is a prepared statement from the Communications Coordinator:
There have been some aspersions cast on my posting from last week which included what one board member referred to as my "deifying of the Director."  I want to emphasize that I was in no way attempting to negotiate an increase in salary from the said Director and Board (no matter what I might have hoped for in my heart of hearts).  Having worked in the non-profit world for long enough, believe me when I say that I am perfectly aware that a monetary raise is a little harder to come by than just penning a flattering ode to a Director.  In fact I am perfectly content with the system of "raises" practiced here at Cherry Hill, that includes but is not limited to, receiving an update in computer software from Microsoft Office 95 to Microsoft Office 2007, or trading in one old secondhand desk chair for a less old secondhand desk chair.  By my estimates, I may be the highest paid staff person on paper.