With the counters installed this seems like as good a time as any to introduce the burner I've been making my meals on for the last few weeks,  the Origo 4100 flush mount alcohol stove.    I chose alcohol because aside from wood and electricity (both of which I will be using)  there's really no other option if you want to unplug from fossil fuels.  If you're new to my blog this matters because living inside our carbon budget is paramount if we don't want to turn earth into venus by the end of the century.  Yes, alcohol emits CO2, but in doing so it's just releasing carbon that it sequestered while growing as plants, which makes for a net zero sum.

Choosing the Origo was easy because it's the only available flush mount alcohol range out there.   It says "designed in Sweden, made in Europe"  on the box, which helped me feel a little less queazy about the 450 dollar price tag.   The high cost of stainless along with a lack of competition is likely driving that price.

In researching the Origo, I learned that alcohol is expensive, might smell a little funny*, and doesn't burn as hot as other fuels, which is why it's often a dealbreaker for the less than carbon conscious.   After actually cooking on it for a few weeks I can tell you that's completely true, but not neccissarily a bad thing!   Let me explain.

One thing I've learned living off-the-grid is that if energy is just a little more expensive and slightly harder to access it encourages big changes in how we use it.   Suddenly you find yourself turning the pot off when it boils, paying attention to cooking times, always using a lid, and not heating more than you need to.   People are terrible at self-regulating, and that's why I like systems that regulate themselves.   No single energy source is all that "green" when you try to apply it to a planet crowded with seven billion people, but for me personally alcohol is still a winner because not only are we using a renewable resource, but using it with the care and respect that it deserves.   Plants worked hard to grow those calories!

*the alcohol smell is easily eliminated by lifting the hinged range when done and placing neoprene covers over the burners inside,  pretty easy.

If you haven't built an entire house before, it's easy to look at a project like this and feel like things and moving along nicely when the big, pretty steps in the process are complete,  but this is really just the beginning, it's all the little things that eat the most time.   Case in point:  I came home this afternoon after a few days away determined to get something done on the trailer.   With plumbing looming, I thought I'd install the sink.  Put the old faucet back in, replace a drain basket, add silicone, no sweat.  But wait, the counter dips where it shouldn't, meaning I'll have to add a reinforcement under that part of the counter before I can set the sink.  Subtract two hours.  Next problem,  I lost the tiny plastic clip that holds the spray attachment to it's copper stem.  Get online, find a replacement, get it shipped.  Subtract an hour, and 3 days of waiting for shipping.  

Ok,  what can we do?  How about that shower pan?   It turns out that I routed the spot where the drain goes just a bit too deep, so now it's time to build it back up with epoxy.  Level the pan on saw horses,  make a tape dam, mix and pour in epoxy.  Subtract a half hour,  and a day of waiting.   Next problem,  it turns out I nicked the drain fitting that the shower pan needs to drop perfectly into while trimming the hole in the floor with a jig saw.   Solution:  Cut a larger hole in the floor so I can reach through and clean it up so the shower pan fitting will drop in when the time comes.  Subtract 30 minutes.   So, the next step in a day or so will be to put the shower pan in?  Wrong!  because the shower wall needs to be painted first.   But wait,  before the shower wall can be painted, I need to cut the hole for the shower fixture that I'm adding to the outside of the trailer,  then install that fixture and it's stub outs,  then patch the hole on the inside with a sheet of aluminum and rivets,  and then I can paint the shower wall?  Nooooooo....  because before that happens, I have to install the ceiling mounted curtain track so I know where exactly I'm painting to.   THEN I can paint the shower wall,  let it dry,  and THEN install the shower pan,  which of course is only part of the battle, because after that's in, I still need to build and finish some waterproof paneling down the bed side of the shower, which of course can't be done, because I recently realized that I screwed up the bed math and the bed is 1/2 inch too short and my clothing tubs won't fit under it.   So first we dismantle and reassemble the bed, and THEN we build the waterproof wall, and THEN we install the shower pan.   Once the pan is in, it's time for a faucet and sprayer,  but before that happens a custom fixture mount has to be fabricated, new handles and cartridges need to be sourced for the old fixture I'm keeping, and I actually have to get plumbing over to that area.  Before I can get plumbing to that area, however, I have to pass by the hot water tank,  which it so happens needs to have accommodations made for both a solar AND a wood fired hot water loop,  as well as a PRV drain, normal drain, and a thermostatic mixing valve.  These things must be planned when deciding the initial orientation of all the ports because otherwise I could have a very difficult time in a few weeks when I install those things,  not to mention the small task of running a dedicated electric line in conduit (which first has to be painted white to match the walls,  subtract two hours)  over to the water heater itself.  

THEN I can bring the plumbing over to the shower.  Stopping by the direct water hook up regulator to throw in a diverter and a few ball valves along the way,  riveting u-clips to the walls as I go.   Plumb in the shower, then it's on to the sink.  

All of this needs to be done by thursday at noon.   That's two and a half days from now.

With my most recent class wrapped up I was finally able to get the laminated scrap lumber slab down to the mill at Zena Forest Products, the sustainable forest and sawmill owned by Ben Deumling just outside of Salem.   With Ben's massive saw and planer we cut it into 1 inch slices and then planed down to 3/4 inch.  Thanks Ben!  (for beautiful and environmentally responsible flooring check out Ben's website.)

Because everything in a tiny structure has to do some sort of double duty,  planning and layout can be a bit mentally taxing.  compounding is building  directly into the floor and walls to save weight.  In two days I built 4 counters with legs, a small table, and a lid for the refrigerator.  We coated it with three layers of the same Vermont Natural Coatings Polywhey finish that I used on the floors.

Install day was a little hectic. With all sorts of last minute modifications and a looming deadline I hired my friend Henry to watch me flap about like a chicken and lend a hand as needed. I realized I hadn't accounted for the curvature of the wall, and had to backbevel the backsplashes on the fly.  Also, we'd moved the refrigerator (which everything keys off of) without marking exactly where it was.  I realized a support leg was partially blocking the sink hole and needed to be notched around a cross piece as well. The rivet gun jammed necessitating a complete rebuild before we could keep going.  An electrical box that I'd moved to be out of the way of the counters was acutally still in the way and needed to be moved, again.  Finally, level and plumb mean nothing when you are working in a vehicle that lifts and drops whenever someone shifts their weight, so level, or rather the degree of unlevel had to be taken at the floor and the transferred to the counter and then marked without anyone moving.  Plumb was basically hopeless so we just eyeballed it.    When it was all done though we had beautiful new counters made entirely of scrap wood salvaged from an old cottage.  Neat!

Standing in the most beautiful workshop I'd ever set foot in at nearly midnight, a famous sculptor once said to me:     "Time means nothing to me."  

Horrified, I could only think of how I exemplify the exact opposite of this mentality.  My whole schtick in life is finding the intersection where the least amount of effort will produce the most amount of effect.  In this way I make my living impersonating a "real" artist, and nobody is usually the wiser. Sometimes, however, when an aesthetic is compelling enough and simply cannot be cheated, it's time to put my nose to the grindstone and pay the toll that beauty requires.

The problem with replacing the shower pan in the Airstream is that it sits in an eccentric radius curved corner and there is just no simple way to build one and no aftermarket product available.  A mortared and tiled pan just seemed like the wrong thing for a floor that would be bouncing  down the highway,  so after much consternation I came to the dismaying conclusion that wood was what I wanted to go with.

After planing down some de-nailed scrap boards and some left over cedar from the kayak shop,  I built a couple jigs and fired up the table saw for 6 LONG hours,  resulting in what can only be described as a testament to being somewhere on the autistic spectrum.   When I was finally done at midnight I'd created a 72 inch circle of perfect staves,  all of them tapering evenly from 1 1/4 inch square to just 1/16th inch square.   I chose a fairly aggressive drain pitch of 1/2 inch per foot because I have my doubts that the trailer will always be sitting level when I bathe.

Even with all that work in, I was skeptical that I could get all of the now warping and twisting pieces actually glued together,  but with the help of a friend, a big rock and 6 hours,  we were able to finally get the circle complete.    Two days later I trimmed it to the final shape,  sanded it down, and flooded the entire thing with four thick layers of epoxy.    Not the easiest thing I've ever made,  but sometimes you just have to take the hard way.

I've been a little stressed out the last couple weeks trying to find wood for the countertops.  You'd think it wouldn't be so hard to find sixteen used 2x6's, but after searching high and low, I just couldn't find enough of the same size boards to make it happen.   Driving to Cart'M recycling on Sunday afternoon I decided to give it one final shot before I just gave up and bought some wood.  Sadly, the wood racks were mostly barren,  and so I'd pretty much surrendered to the idea of buying wood on Monday morning when a silver truck loaded to the axels with old 2x4's and 2x6s pulled in next to me.   

The owner saw me eyeing his load and before I could say anything he offered,  "I'll drive it all straight to your house if you want it?"  It took me a minute to process and reply,   "Hell yeah I want it!"   Fifteen minutes later we unloaded over 100 2x4's,  and he told me there was more where that came from.   An hour later we were stacking another load, and an hour after that yet another.   The source of our good fortune was an epic garage clean out which included all of this wood which originated from an old cottage his father had dismantled and painstakingly de-nailed,  over 30 years ago!!

I'll admit, stacking a cottage of wood on a Sunday afternoon wasn't exactly what I was hoping for,  but how can you turn down something like that?   So, with swimming and blackberry pie making both summarily cancelled, my long suffering girlfriend was put to work at 4pm planing board,  after which we made the one seriously messy glue lam with a gallon of titebond II and every long clamp in the shop.   

People might think I use salvage wood to save money, but the truth is working with scrap always takes longer and ends up costing more.   So it must be better for the environment right?  Maybe, if you don't have to drive it too far to get it sawn and sanded.  The real reason I love salvage is because every project is a mini-adventure, a treasure hunt, an opportunity to overcome challenges and meet new people.   These are the experiences that we miss when we go to the store and trade a buck for a product,  and at the end of the day, after a hot shower, chewing on ribs in front of a roaring fire built from the off-cuts of the days milling,  it's the stories we've collected and the places they lead us that make our lives meaningful.   

The next step is to slice this giant block into 1 1/4" slices on a sawmill, and plane it down to 1" countertops.  Then I need to figure out what to do with the rest of this wood!