INTRODUCTION
WRITING DOWN THE BLOCKS
Bricks 101
One Viga
A Year Later
Decking the Roof
Floor Plans
WORKSHOPS
My mother is right. I am a "stubborn young woman." Why else would I decide, at 7 PM on a Sunday night to lift and move a 20 foot viga (beam), 8" diameter up and onto the roof of the house I'm building?
God knows how much it weighs. More than I can lift, that's for sure. But I was determined. I succeeded, and now I'm smiling as I sit here with a cup of tea looking over at the lone viga. It's the first. It's monumental. I did it, all by myself. Daisy, my dog, didn't even come over to cheer me on. Instead she sat by her empty food bowl and gave me the look. (She's happy now by the way, after raising my roof, or rather one of many vigas, I fed her well.)
I'm stubborn, I admit. The trouble is I have been planning a viga-raising party here soon. Ed was helping me one day when I asked him to help me out on that Saturday as the supervisor. "That way, I can explain to those friends who've not been here before what we're all doing…" He's happy to help; in fact thrilled I think to be asked to really be a part of the process. Fedor also came over today to talk about the viga-raising and how was I planning to do it? "Nick has a boom truck, a crane that can lift these 26' vigas up, over, and into place for you."
All day I've been talking to different visitors about the bricks, the landscape, the mountains, the roof-raising. All day I've been talking.
By late afternoon everyone had left. I took Daisy for a walk. Standing on the cliff top above my building site, I felt the urge creeping up on me. I wanted to put one viga up. Just one. By myself.
Running back down the hill I was thinking of rope, and tying one end and simply pulling the beast.
Back at the site I found a long rope and took it to the two 20' vigas sitting there, all ready to go. I pushed one out of the way. I tied the other and gave it a pull. Very little happened. I pulled again and it moved an inch or two. I was not discouraged. I was instead even more determined. I swiveled it in place and then it was facing up the flagstone steps. I needed to pull it up 20' of steps to the area level with the back wall. Luckily the house is built into the clay and rock hill. That's not so bad, I thought, it could be worse. I pulled. I pushed. I pulled. I pushed. I was chipping the steps but I didn't mind. Until today they were my babies. The viga was now the baby, deserving all of my attention. I pulled. I pushed. As I tried to catch my breath once we, the viga and I, were half way there, I saw a 2-foot length of a round piece of another viga. An idea came to mind, and I got it, then put it under the uphill end. I pushed from below and it rolled along. I was impressed. It flew uphill, or so it felt. In no time at all, I had it in position, with one end on the back wall, the other on the front beam. I cranked the generator and found the drill and ½ drill bit. I drilled two holes, each through the viga and its beam underneath. With great glee I hammered in 12" of rebars into each end. The viga was now pinned in place.
Turning off the generator, I look up at my roof -line. I sip my tea and admire the viga. It's a beauty from this perspective. Suddenly I can sense how this home will feel when it's enclosed. I'm excited. I'm proud of myself. I'm glad I can be stubborn…