There was a chilling story on one of the TV news broadcasts last night. Can't remember which one. When I tell you, you're going to think it's one of those end-of-the-worlder's fundamentalist stories, but it happened in Africa - Somalia, I think - and it's probably the first time I've seen such a story reported in the international media and it almost makes me want to start stockpiling things.
In short, it was about a man in one of those drought-devastated areas who was attacked by men with machine guns - they shot up some of his family and (wierdly) his animals that had not yet died from starvation and drought to get hold of his land, which is one of the few pieces of land around that neck of the woods (woops, no woods there) that still has some grass and a little well or stream providing water. THEY KILLED HIM FOR HIS FOOD AND WATER. Got that?
One only has to look around for stories about unusual weather that has destroyed the food crops we're used to finding in our stores - tomatoes from California, oranges from Florida, wheat from the prairies, garlic in Asia, you probably heard many more and watched food prices jump accordingly, or saw some products disappear off the shelves.
In Vancouver, it is hard to convince anyone that water will be the next oil, not only for drinking, but for irrigation and hydro power, because, well... we have so much of it. But in August this year, Vancouver was hotter and drier than ever before in history. Scary thing is, here in Lions Bay, the new Village Manager reports that water usage levels in August remained exactly the same, even after water restrictions were introduced. Of course no-one ENFORCED these restrictions, heaven forbid we "whip" people into complying, as one resident termed it. It's as if no-one can see that only a united effort will ensure a future for us all... CO2 knows no borders, so climate change isn't about one country or another, same as it's not about one neighbour doing his bit, but not the guy next door.
The point is, we're in this together, like it or not. We only have this one planet. No matter who destroys it, we all are doomed unless we start making it well enough to sustain us going forward.
Irritating, to say the least, for those of us who are doing our bit. Nope, that's not nearly the right word... infuriating, maybe? Terrifying, in those wee wakeful hours of the night?
But even if you "don't believe" in climate change, if you extrapolate the story of the African man above to its logical conclusion, if we don't act now and food crops fail and water resources dry up, there will come a time when some will kill others for food and water all around the world in order to survive, just as polar bears are now known to be resorting to cannibalism in order to survive.
How can you not see this? And how can you not do your part? It's not difficult, truly.
So here's a little ditty in the making from me. It has no music yet and there are only a couple of verses (or maybe a verse and a bridge, or verse and chorus, I don't know yet). And those who know me know I am not really advocating we forget about the polar bears and the whales, in fact, a percentage of my business profits will go to World Wildlife Fund Canada to help protect the polar bears and more.
In this song I am trying to appeal to those selfish individuals who think "they" should do something about climate change, or more commonly, they chide "the government" for not doing anything (including you, Mr Ignatieff and Mr Layton).
Who cares what happens at Copenhagen? Each one of us has the power to make a difference, no matter how simple, and cut our CO2 emmission and energy usage. Drive less, switch off the lights, reduce your waste, recycle, grow food not flowers, cook in a pot on the range and not your oven, hang clothes to dry and get rid of the dryer, select the recycled paper in Staples above the other stuff, it's all about simple choices, and it starts with me, and it starts with you. Tell a friend (or a stranger, except mostly they don't like it very much, but your friends will still love you).
Anyway, here's the song thus far. Feel free to suggest some verses.
Yup, I could wait for "they", or wait for "them",
Maybe I should wait for the govern-ment?
But in the end, in reality,
Sustainability begins with ME.
Forget about the polar bears, forget about the whales...
what you gonna do when YOUR food crops fail?
What you gonna do when your water's all gone?
It's already real, just look around.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
If I were to pick a builder right now...
... this would be them. I wrote an article on these guys for Cottage Magazine and I love the way they work, and what they build. I think the pics speak for themselves.
Personally, I would like an open-plan home where the timbers are exposed on the interior, so you can enjoy the organic texture of the wood (how tactile is that?!) and combine that with a clean-lined, more contemporary style.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Tis the season to plan and dream.
Until we have a place to stay other than a tent, there is not much we can do over the Fall and Winter months to further our dream Republic. However, 'tis the ideal season for planning and design, so we thought a quick overnight trip to Cortes Island on a relatively good weather weekend would be a good thing (see previous blog re site measurements/plan) so that I can begin on our (currently favoured) design for the main house (sketches above - no comments on how on earth I'm going to deal with snowload on this roof, pse).Unfortunately, we have guests in the B&B for 3 nights this weekend coming (think of the money, Penny) and the weekend thereafter, looks like Nev and the work crowd are finally going fishing (hard to begrudge this). Weekend after is Thanksgiving, a vague possibility for a trip except we accepted a booking on the Monday evening (lady coming back from Cortes!), so it will have to be a quick trip indeed.
In the interim, I have switched from presenting Green Building at Lighthouse to manning the resource centre once a week, which is an amazingly timeous opportunity, because that's where their library of sustainable materials are kept, along with lists of suppliers and other interesting contacts. And at least I will feel like I'm contributing while learning more, even though I am nuts about materials and finishes, so am pretty clued up, even if I say so myself.
This also ties in very fortuitously with my decision (at last) to start a small "green" design business. It is after all why I went back to school, and presents the same opportunity to change old, unsustainable design and renovation practices one homeowner at a time. Wish me luck and watch this space!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
More learning.
I started my Construction 1A Course on Wednesday and I am stoked. It is really basic, and fortunately I do know some of the terminology and techniques involved already, so I think I will be OK. Put it this way, I was way more worried about passing the Built Green exam and that turned out OK.What's exciting is knowing that in a few weeks' time I will be able to put together a set of drawings for a house. That's the thing with BCIT courses - you start out wondering how you will ever learn everything on the course schedule, but by around week 9 you think "wow, look how much we've learned!".
We saw a house on the Extreme Homes TV show today. It's in Phoenix, AZ so obviously a whole other weather area, however, it was exactly how I would build the main cabin if budget permits. It's built into the rock of a mountain, and it would work fantastically on our gully site. The trick, they said, was to cut a laser line into the rock to the depth of around 3" and then scribe the glazing into it using lots of silicone. The end result is a rock wall inside the house, which merges seamlessly into the rock. Wish I had a pic of it to stick in my design sketch book.
The latest Dwell mag features a house in California with stunning bare concrete floors. That's it at the top of this posting. It also has the front door I dream of having. Sooo... how do we make THIS happen? It would help to have accurate site measurements on the main building site. We haven't done this yet. We actually started doing a site map for the teeny cabin site: we did it on the visit earlier this year when Delia gave us a ride. It's a standing joke between us now. I took ONE measurement to avoid having to cut down a scrawny young arbutus tree and the joke is that even though I only took one measurement, I drew the dimension incorrectly... the 10' is to the FRONT of the rock, not the back. That's it.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Norpine Cabins
I decided to follow up on those prefab cabins they are selling through Home Depot, my most UNfavourite bog-box store. You know the joke - HD employs 3,000 people (or whatever) and they're all at the same store somewhere else... hate going in there.Anyway, worth a quick price check for the bunky. The Norpine website is http://www.norpineproducts.com/. I checked on the Fraser, Mackenzie and Palliser because we really want something with a small footprint. I think the Palliser might even be too big.
Called 2 HD stores: at Campbell River everyone was "helping other customers" (yeah, yeah, all other customers are more important than me), but I managed to establish all HDs charge the same for the cabins.
I then called the Abbotsford branch, because having bought the composting toilet there, I know they have a number of older, experienced, English-speaking employees who are very helpful. However, they had no prices and no phone number on record, but the kind chap I spoke to told me to look them up under Winton Global, which is how I arrived at Tammy. Who was FULL of info and advice and gave me all the prices and then some.
Since we will be building on a pier and beam foundation, it looks like the cheapest we can go is the Fraser (16' X 20') at $20,749. We can do our own siding if we don't want the log-look - subtract $4,080 and buy your own siding plus Tyvek instead. I do like the metal roof and it comes in BLUE! Ha! Of course, there are other colours as well.
But when I look at it, I could probably buy enough lumber for my own design for less. If I design it right, I can have minimal waste on materials too. Interesting though.
For the record, the Mackenzie came in at around $27,887.
Root cellars again, and propane refrigerators.
OK, I see what they're doing: it's an underground or bermed "room". Of course the temp is lower in winter and higher in summer, but still cooler than ambient. It needs to be ventilated and drained properly and the reason it's called a root cellar is because it appears to be a storage area for produce. But one chap says he can keep milk in his till the sell by date, so I think it'll be good for many things except potentially meat and keeping beer and wine chilled. Kinda knew that though.
Useful, but we'll still need a small propane refrigerator. We will need around $1,000 for a small one, I think. The solar power models are even more expensive... oh well. The bunky is not supposed to be kitted out though - we put real budget into the building of the main house for appliances, but not the bunky. Dreams don't come cheap. That's what research is for.
Useful, but we'll still need a small propane refrigerator. We will need around $1,000 for a small one, I think. The solar power models are even more expensive... oh well. The bunky is not supposed to be kitted out though - we put real budget into the building of the main house for appliances, but not the bunky. Dreams don't come cheap. That's what research is for.
Monday, September 14, 2009
It's a process, not an overnight thing.
My friend Barb and I had lunch on Friday. It was truly wonderful to see her again, as always. Lo and behold, she too is contemplating an alternative place to live, and a more suitable way of life. I hesitate to say alternative, because I think it's a choice, not an opt-out, as some city dwellers seem to think.
When I called Barb today, she was in front of her PC, looking at properties. This is something Nev and I spent literally hundreds of hours doing before buying The Seagull Republic. In fact, it was an obsession all of its own. We had The Tree House on the market at one point in order to be able to move forward with our plans, but truthfully, we weren't ready to sell. Or were we? You see, none of this happens overnight; it's more like a process one goes through, from the dream, through the thinking, the research, the planning and then the hardcore business of it all: the financing, negotiating, building, moving and more.
Those central stages involved a lot of math: running the numbers on umpteen spreadsheets, such as what do we actually need to live? What will it cost? What will cost less and what will cost more? For instance, one has to have a boat, a dock, and insurance, to name a few items that would cost more, but food and heating may cost less, depending. Some items didn't figure much in our planning, for example, we don't often buy take out, mainly because there isn't any in Lions Bay (!) but also because truthfully it's tastier, healthier and CHEAPER to eat at home. But I guess for others, this could be a huge saving outside the city.
A vital part of our research was definitely visiting numerous little places around Vancouver Island and particular properties. We spent a small fortune on ferries, B&B's and, most expensive of all, water taxis. Those guys are usually fishing guides (or similar) using their boats as taxis only when they are not taking tourists out fishing. So typically they were as much as $100 an hour. This is something one should take into account when thinking about a recreational/rural property... even the looking ain't cheap if you're looking at an island or boat access only spot.
It helped that we spent many hours online narrowing our search down according to our pre-determined criteria: Must be 1. on the ocean 2. boat access only 3. must have a great view with mountains. FYI we got 2 1/2 out of 3 in The Republic, but you can't help yourself when you fall in love... and that's what this is all about, falling in love with a spot. You don't SETTLE when it's the dream. You ask yourself, "is this the dream?" - and Nev was good at asking this - and if the answer is no, you keep looking.
We invested in courses, as mentioned somewhere else on this blog, books, trade shows, phone calls and countless hours of research. I still wonder what we'll find to talk about once we've actually built a place and moved in, although I'm certain the learning will continue.
Life in Lions Bay has been ideal training for moving to a more remote spot. Living on half an acre of forested land close to the San Andreas fault means we always have to be prepared to take care of ourselves for a few days (technically 3, 7 is better). It's kind of eased us into the rural lifestyle. We have the odd power outage, such as the storm in November 2006 that left us without power for 5 days, but usually it's a day or a few hours. Nevertheless, one has to be able to keep warm because the house gets cold very quickly when it's around zero outside.
In 2006, I had to buy a generator to keep the fridge cold and cook dinner. We could have BBQ'ed except Nev was up north at Snap Lake having lobster dinners and warm showers (long story) and I'm not great on the gas BBQ (gas terrifies me to be honest). Luckily it wasn't too cold, and the woodpile meant we had heat (thanks to Nev's diligent wood curing and chopping regime). But you get the idea... our beloved Tree House has been great training for The Seagull Republic.
Even now, we are probably not quite at the point of selling The Tree House, buying a small city home and moving permanently to Cortes. Will we ever be? We want to be on the North Shore during the ski season and for Christmas with Lee (which fortunately coincides with the bulk of the hockey season). In short, we want it all. Having said that, when I left Cortes last week, I was very sad to be leaving.
This is exactly my point: it's a process. No-one decides to do what we're doing overnight. In my case, it's taken all my life thus far. I moved from the dreaming stage to making it real because it gets to the point where you think, "OK, if this is what we really want, how do we make it happen?". Even then, one has to work through the complexities of everyday life, the reality of that new life, and the most important thing... finances.
That's what's so amazing about Canada: one can have a wonderful life almost anywhere and it needn't cost too much. Once one figures out exactly how much money one needs to live on and how one wants to make that money, you can make it happen.
But it's a process.
When I called Barb today, she was in front of her PC, looking at properties. This is something Nev and I spent literally hundreds of hours doing before buying The Seagull Republic. In fact, it was an obsession all of its own. We had The Tree House on the market at one point in order to be able to move forward with our plans, but truthfully, we weren't ready to sell. Or were we? You see, none of this happens overnight; it's more like a process one goes through, from the dream, through the thinking, the research, the planning and then the hardcore business of it all: the financing, negotiating, building, moving and more.
Those central stages involved a lot of math: running the numbers on umpteen spreadsheets, such as what do we actually need to live? What will it cost? What will cost less and what will cost more? For instance, one has to have a boat, a dock, and insurance, to name a few items that would cost more, but food and heating may cost less, depending. Some items didn't figure much in our planning, for example, we don't often buy take out, mainly because there isn't any in Lions Bay (!) but also because truthfully it's tastier, healthier and CHEAPER to eat at home. But I guess for others, this could be a huge saving outside the city.
A vital part of our research was definitely visiting numerous little places around Vancouver Island and particular properties. We spent a small fortune on ferries, B&B's and, most expensive of all, water taxis. Those guys are usually fishing guides (or similar) using their boats as taxis only when they are not taking tourists out fishing. So typically they were as much as $100 an hour. This is something one should take into account when thinking about a recreational/rural property... even the looking ain't cheap if you're looking at an island or boat access only spot.
It helped that we spent many hours online narrowing our search down according to our pre-determined criteria: Must be 1. on the ocean 2. boat access only 3. must have a great view with mountains. FYI we got 2 1/2 out of 3 in The Republic, but you can't help yourself when you fall in love... and that's what this is all about, falling in love with a spot. You don't SETTLE when it's the dream. You ask yourself, "is this the dream?" - and Nev was good at asking this - and if the answer is no, you keep looking.
We invested in courses, as mentioned somewhere else on this blog, books, trade shows, phone calls and countless hours of research. I still wonder what we'll find to talk about once we've actually built a place and moved in, although I'm certain the learning will continue.
Life in Lions Bay has been ideal training for moving to a more remote spot. Living on half an acre of forested land close to the San Andreas fault means we always have to be prepared to take care of ourselves for a few days (technically 3, 7 is better). It's kind of eased us into the rural lifestyle. We have the odd power outage, such as the storm in November 2006 that left us without power for 5 days, but usually it's a day or a few hours. Nevertheless, one has to be able to keep warm because the house gets cold very quickly when it's around zero outside.
In 2006, I had to buy a generator to keep the fridge cold and cook dinner. We could have BBQ'ed except Nev was up north at Snap Lake having lobster dinners and warm showers (long story) and I'm not great on the gas BBQ (gas terrifies me to be honest). Luckily it wasn't too cold, and the woodpile meant we had heat (thanks to Nev's diligent wood curing and chopping regime). But you get the idea... our beloved Tree House has been great training for The Seagull Republic.
Even now, we are probably not quite at the point of selling The Tree House, buying a small city home and moving permanently to Cortes. Will we ever be? We want to be on the North Shore during the ski season and for Christmas with Lee (which fortunately coincides with the bulk of the hockey season). In short, we want it all. Having said that, when I left Cortes last week, I was very sad to be leaving.
This is exactly my point: it's a process. No-one decides to do what we're doing overnight. In my case, it's taken all my life thus far. I moved from the dreaming stage to making it real because it gets to the point where you think, "OK, if this is what we really want, how do we make it happen?". Even then, one has to work through the complexities of everyday life, the reality of that new life, and the most important thing... finances.
That's what's so amazing about Canada: one can have a wonderful life almost anywhere and it needn't cost too much. Once one figures out exactly how much money one needs to live on and how one wants to make that money, you can make it happen.
But it's a process.
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