The Squirrel

The Squirrel

When we bought this house, 6 years ago, my wife said to me "You know honey, we can put a wood-stove in that corner."  Since then it's been in the back of our minds and this last Thanksgiving we finally decided to make it a reality.

After a great deal of research, performed mostly by my wife from the moment her eyes opened in the morning till the moment they drifted shut at night, we settled on a MorsØ 1410.  I won't go into the technical specs in detail here but it's a small Danish stove that puts out about 30,000 BTU (9KW).  The stove is designed to heat 800 -1000 sqft which matches the space on our main floor pretty well.  We expect that the living room, kitchen, and dining area will be comfy warm and some heat will drift back into the rest of the house.  We have a very functional (if old) oil-fired forced water radiator system (non-zoned) that heats our house well but we wanted a backup for power outages and an alternate to heating the entire house to get one room warm.

Because this project involved a potentially serious hazard to our home and family we went through the hoopla of pulling a permit for it.  I was apprehensive about the process but it actually turned out to be far less onerous than I had feared.

There were two main facets to our install...

Phase 1: Hearth and Heat Shield - This phase consisted of removing a closet and in-wall AC unit from the area where the stove would go, constructing a hearth pad for the stove to sit on and protecting the walls from the heat the stove would generate.

Phase 2: Chimney - This phase we subcontracted out to a local chimney guy who did a great job.  His estimate for materials and labor came in almost exactly at our cost for materials so that was kind of a no-brainer.

The first thing to go was the AC unit.  It looked EXACTLY like the one I had in my room when I was in high school which means it's yearly energy costs were only slightly less than that of a Tokyo department store.

I put a picture online and told all my friends that I was installing a through-wall fish tank.  They all laughed at my folly.

No stick framing here

It turns out that our 1951 post-war Cape is constructed to a standard not seen too often anymore.  We've always been impressed with the inherent R-value of our house and the cross section certainly helps explain that.

Once we had removed the AC unit it came time to remove the closet door, wall it up, and pretend that it never happened.  That was easier said than done as it turns out that every interior door frame in this house is steel.  Right down to the integral welded hinges that I had to cut off with an angle grinder.

With the AC unit gone and the closet a hanger filled memory we moved on to the framing for the hearth.  Not too complicated a task and I was happy to have it in the rearview.

In retrospect, I wish I had put down a "subfloor" between the durock and the framing.  I don't like the way it flexed on some of the larger gaps.  It's nothing big but when you're doing a tile install any flex can be a problem.  At any rate, we put down the durock and got ready to tile.

Wyfey had her heart set on a natural stone look so we ended up going with slate tiles.  I'd never worked with slate before and I would happily work with it again.  Each tile is different in hue and thickness, some drastically, and getting them all laid out in an aesthetically pleasing way while all being approximately the same height was a challenge.  The tiles themselves cut easily and they were so cheap that I have enough surplus to make myself a very nice slate house should this one fall down.

 We very pointedly ignored well meaning advice and trimmed the hearth in wood.  When in doubt for a building material we almost always go with nice wood.  The main room in our house has (original) oak flooring, birch kitchen countertops, tiger maple bar top, orange agate mantle, teak wall sconces, and now machiche hearth trim.  Machiche is a Very Hard Wood.  Ask my wife.  She's the one who spent an hour pre-drilling and then hammering in very small finish nails.  Apparently it's used for decking so we should be good for the foreseeable future.

After much discussion with the local building inspector we determined that we not only had to move the stove WAY the HELL to the right of the pad and we also had to tear out JD's lovely drywall work.  This turned out to be to our benefit though as it created a nice spot for a wood stack and

kindling area on one side of the hearth pad.

In order to maximize our available living room space we had to make sure that the stove was as close to the wall as possible.  The main concern was distance from the edge of the stove to "combustibles".  According to Wyfey's research the best way to shrink that distance was to install a heat shield positioned 1" away from the wall.  This allows the steel to absorb a bit of the thermal energy but more importantly creates a nice convection current of air behind the shield.  With this shield we lowered the distance down to 12" from the stove to the wall and thereby made our friendly neighborhood home inspector much happier.  Which makes us much happier.

Once the heat shield was up the install was mostly through and we were down to finish work.  JD found some nice tin paneling to cover up the stainless and her parents donated the gigantic bronze bucket that holds our kindling and matches.

Once it was all in and set we ordered a 1/2 cord of wood and stacked it out back under some cover.  That 1/2 cord lasted us all winter with about an 1/8 of a cord left and in early June (last month) we ordered another 1/2 cord.  That is now stacked and seasoning.  One of the major benefits of such a small stove is that it takes about an 8" long log comfortably.  This means that because most "cut and split" wood is 14-16 inches long you have to cut all your split wood once more before you use it but because it burns so effectively you still get about the same burn time for each load.  Less BTUs yeah, but the space fits the stove so it's not under heated.

In retrospect I don't know why we waited so long to put a wood stove in.  My wife is ALWAYS cold and spends the majority of her time from November till March curled up in an electric blanket with 2 sweaters on while she shivers.  My enduring memory from this last winter will be the time I looked over at her sitting in the brown chair to the left of the stove, realized it was 12 degrees outside, our heat was set to 62 and she was in a t-shirt and yoga pants while she calmly sipped her tea and worked on her laptop.

Counter Assault

All the literature says that the most effective bear deterrent is this stuff. Apparently you just spray it in the air between you and the bear and the bear wants NOTHING to do with it and runs the other way. Of course all the literature also says that if you're doing the right thing you'll almost never confront the bear in the first place. 

My first instinct would have been to bring a bazooka but that's apparently frowned on in the national parks. Friggen environmentalist hippies. 

Fire Starters

I realized that we were all out of fire starters so I broke out the paraffin and lint. One of the few uses of empty egg containers. 

Camping with Hairy Mommy

While my wife was in Italy my friend Justin came into town for a week to help out with the kids and catch up a bit. We went camping down at French creek state park and had a great time. 

Mobile Blogging - Take 1

In preparation for our upcoming trip to Wyoming we're piloting the mobile app blogging lifestyle. 

Hells yeah.

Thank goodness we paid for a quality mattress for the honey badger. 

Evil Genius in the Making

An unexpected excerpt from my bedtime conversation with Cayden:

"I mean, I love flamethrowers, but I am not planning on buying one anytime soon"

How…. comforting.

Learning Anatomy

D: (touching Ty's forehead) What is that?
T: Its my forehead
D: (strokes Ty's eyelid) What is that?
T: My eyelid
D: (reaches for Ty's eye again) Can I touch the colored part?
T: NO!

The Age of Literalism

J: Dalton, can I have a kiss?

D: No. I give Daddy a kiss! (runs over to Tyson and kisses him on the cheek)

J: Yeah! Daddy got kisses!

D: No Mommy. ONE kiss.

Power and Pesto

I came home a bit late from work the other night, and Tyson and Dalton were already in the kitchen working on making pizza for dinner. Dalton was standing on a stool with his hands wrapped around a container of pesto (we shun the traditional tomato-sauce pizza… too wet for home cooking).

D: I can open it?
T: Not yet honey.
D: I can open it?
T:Not yet honey, I need to finish spreading the dough first.
D: I can open it?
T: Sweetheart, count to five.
D: FIVE!
T: Fair enough, I didn't say count from 1 to 5. But I am going to take the pesto away now and give it back to you when it is time to open it.
D: And I will scoop it out because I am the teacher of eating!*

Dalton has been claiming teacher status often of late - and usually in a situation where he would prefer to have a little more power. I find it fascinating that he has not claimed the role of 'mommy' or 'daddy' but is completely comfortable telling me, "No, you don't sing it. I am the teacher, I sing the songs". It reminds me that two year olds are living a daily Catch-22: to learn about the world you have to interact with it, but as a two year old you have boundaries that your grown-ups are often not comfortable with, and so you are often told to stop or disengage. It is a useful reminder to create environments where I can say yes instead of no, and to have understanding for how overwhelming his emotional world can be (the good and the bad). Also, it is a good idea to keep pesto hidden if you want to cook with it (he ate about a quarter cup of straight pesto with a spoon after the pizzas were made).

Adventures of a Drama Queen: Episode # 129876

Setting the scene: Cayden and Dalton are running through the living room at top speed, as though their hair was on fire. Cayden stubs his toe.

C: AAAAHHHHH! AAAAAAHHHH! (rolls on floor producing blood curdling screams. BLOOD. CURDLING.)

T: Sweetheart, come here (gently prods injured toes)

T: Can you move it?

C: Yes

T: Bend it for me

C: It bends fine (in a completely calm and normal tone of voice)

T: I don't think it is broken.

C: Okay

J: You know son, the intensity of your screaming was completely out of proportion with the severity of your injury

T: Yeah honey, you were screaming like you had just broken an arm

C:……Yeah….. I'm okay with that.

This is your brain exposed to an older brother

Two choice conversations I had with my youngest today that I NEVER had with my oldest at age two. TWO! Cayden waited until 4 to turn into an obnoxious teenager.

J: What did you do at school today?

D: No! I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to talk about my day!

J: (delivering a requested orange truck and finding D out of bed playing with a different truck in the middle of the floor) D honey, you are supposed to be in bed.

D: Hey! I had to get a truck!

J: I can see that, but play with it in bed please.

D: Hey Mommy! I HAD to get a TRUCK!

Fun With Language Learning

setting the scene…. Dalton sits comfortably on Mommy's lap while Daddy points to a picture on the computer

T: That's Christiano Ronaldo opening a Cristiano Ronaldo Museum

J: No! Really? What a putz.

J (to D): You're not a putz, you're my boy.

D:. I not a boy, I a PUTZ!

For reference:

(Cristiano-Ronaldo-014.jpg)

Future NPR Anchorman?

This is what Cayden, my six year old son, said to me first thing in the morning last week:

C: Well, Mommy…. I had quite the battle with my pants.

J: Oh yeah?

C: Yes - but the I realized that if you push from the back that little thing pops out and you can just zip them up. So I think I have got this whole pants thing figured out now.

It's just not the same

Comparing the older sibling to the younger sibling (in a nonjudgmental way, of course):

Cayden (at age two, sad about going to bed): I want my Mommy!

Dalton (last night, also sad about going to bed): I want my Mommy! I want my Mommy!…….. Cayden, go get Mommy!

Irony is...

Getting stabbed in the eye with a wooden training knife less than 5 minutes after you, your training partner, and your instructor all agree that safety glasses would be a good idea and determine that we would all pack some in our bags for next week. Happily I managed to fish the contact lens off the back of my eyeball without a trip to the ER.

Child of Hippies

Dalton: Me Dalton napkin!
Cayden: No Dalton, not that one. We have cloth ones, we don't use those because they are disposable.

The Next Generation

Now that we are settled into Seattle a little bit, Cayden started camp at Discovery park on Monday. He has come back with some impressive war wounds - on his first day he hid in a thorn bush during the camouflage lesson. Getting in was apparently easy, but getting out was more of a challenge. Last night Tyson noticed another bloody scrape on the inside of Cayden's wrist:

T: What is that one from?
C: I don't know! It's like a discovered check Daddy, only it's a discovered wound! I just found it today!

I thought that Tyson might actually weep with pride and joy - he finally has somebody in the house to play chess with.

Walking Man

The weather turned unbelievably beautiful and mild here over the past couple days and to revel in it we took the family on a walk around the neighborhood after dinner. One of my favorite things about watching little ones grow is how transparent they are in their pride. As grown-ups it can be considered conceited to revel in your accomplishments. But sometimes when you have slaved over a project, when it all comes together you should revel. You should be proud. You should laugh and clap and dance- but you probably don't. Dalton, on the other hand has no compunctions dancing, shouting, clapping and laughing with pride. Tonight was his first long walk out of the stroller and his sheer delight at being a big boy was beautiful to behold. He pretty much just did whatever Cayden did, so I asked Cayden to be obvious about stopping at intersections since Dalton is still learning. Being an excellent big brother, Cayden jumped in the air, then landed in a crouch with his hands outstretched in the classic "stop" sign at the next street crossing. Dalton proceeded to spend the next block walking five feet, squatting, putting his hands out and growling, then standing up and laughing like a mad man. It was one of those idyllic moments portrayed in a cheesy movie, where everything came together and everyone was laughing. Less than sixty seconds later they both diggered and started crying, but hey, I'll take what I can get. 

She asked for it...

We celebrated the end of the summer at The! Great! Allentown! Fair! on Saturday night with special guest-star Vavo. Much fun was had by all - I can't tell what Tyson enjoys more, poking fuzzy bunnies or riffling through the RV displays (I won't even endeavor to describe Vavo's joy at the dairy cows, I couldn't do it justice). Since Dalton is a bit young for rides and a bit intolerant of life past bedtime, I left Cayden, Daddy and Vavo to enjoy the rides for another hour while I walked home to put the pumpkin in bed. As I was headed towards the exit a little boy shoved by me to run ahead. Hot on his heals was a woman calling, "Loki! Wait!". Um, yeah...

Helmets

Is it wrong that we got him the pink bunny helmet?  It's just so CUTE.