I finally cottoned on that the Google adverts and various formating problems on the old blog hosting website had become a little too much for both you and me. So I've moved the blog location to here.
Sorry for any inconvenience caused, as they say.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Welcome to the new blog location
I finally cottoned on that the Google adverts and various formating problems on the old blog hosting website had become a little too much for both you and me. So I've moved the blog location to here.
Sorry for any inconvenience caused, as they say.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Roof tiles
Quick update: yesterday we finally got the confirmation from the local planning authorities that it'll be ok to use the usual Huf Haus darkish grey roof tiles.
Great stuff.
A big relief this, as many alpine local governments (Berg-Gemeinde) insist on bright and cheerful red roofs for new builds, so they fit in better with the existing village's sea of bright and cheerful red roofs. A worry, 'cos a Huf Haus with a red roof looks wrong, to my eyes. A bit like a Rolls Royce painted yellow, or a Ferrari painted anything but red. Right? Right.
Anyways, Herr Arkitekt (he of the bow-tie) will be informing those good folks at Huf Haus of the colour confirmation. And in good time too, 'cos the latest possible deadline for ordering the tiles is, erm, today.
Great stuff.
A big relief this, as many alpine local governments (Berg-Gemeinde) insist on bright and cheerful red roofs for new builds, so they fit in better with the existing village's sea of bright and cheerful red roofs. A worry, 'cos a Huf Haus with a red roof looks wrong, to my eyes. A bit like a Rolls Royce painted yellow, or a Ferrari painted anything but red. Right? Right.
Anyways, Herr Arkitekt (he of the bow-tie) will be informing those good folks at Huf Haus of the colour confirmation. And in good time too, 'cos the latest possible deadline for ordering the tiles is, erm, today.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Huf Haus windows - downstairs
While we're waiting for our Keller to dry, there's not going to be much tangible progress to report for the next couple of weeks, so I thought I'd share a few thoughts regarding Huf Haus windows.
The following Huf Haus marketing picture serves as a good example...
(continued below)
Now everyone knows well that Huf Haus is famous for house designs that incorporate lots and lots of glass. And such glasswork offers plenty of natural light, and almost unlimited views of your garden and, well, the view.
The most impressive pieces of glass are of course those uninterrupted floor to ceiling sheets on the ground floor. These are further enhanced by the small over-lights (Oberleicht in German) that fill the gap between the top of the window joists and the bottom surface of the upper floor. If you have a butchers at the image above, you'll see plenty of examples. Keep in mind that such floor-to-ceiling windows are standard, as are the over-lights. (If we're being picky, the whopping big window on the right of the image is actually a full-size sliding door, but we're not being picky, are we.)
On the ground floor, the Huf Haus peeps allow yer to switch between solid wall, floor-to-ceiling window, glass top/solid bottom, and split windows. Yer split window is top and bottom glass, but has a wooden bar running horizontally through the middle of it. You can also switch between solid wall and window in the over-lights area.
And all this switching between wall and window is at no extra cost.
Yes, you read that right, which is why I italicised it. Huf Haus (God bless 'em) don't charge you more or less for switching from glass to solid exterior walls, or vice versa. Presumably, it costs much the same to them, so it costs the same to us. Little wonder that most people take advantage of this, and build themselves crystal goldfish bowls, erm, palaces.
There are some caveats though.
Firstly, some of those solid walls on yer plan aren't just there to spare yer modesty when using the downstairs loo. They actually help to hold the bloody house up. Statics, dear reader, statics. There's a minimum of wall needed for this, and yer Huf Haus happy chappie'll inform you what's needed and what ain't. But if you're building a variation of one of the standardised Huf Haus designs, (as we are, a 3.09.30 variant), you can see the essential minimum solid wall on those nice floor plans in the Huf Haus marketing literature. You'll also notice that some of those solid 'static' walls are internal, but that's another story.
Second caveat is that not every room is suited to being a glass bubble offered openly for full external scrutiny. We've already mentioned the downstairs loo, for which the coy solution is a solid wall, with a glass over-light. But then there's the kitchen. Do you really want to see the unpainted backs of those fancy Bulthaup kitchen units when yer watering yer garden? That's where the solid bottom/glass top option comes in. Right? And if you want to run a convenient shelf along a window? Aah, then you can use the split window and nail yer shelf to the horizontal wooden bar running through the middle.
There's a lot to be said for shoving in a glass over-light regardless of the wall or glass type below. We almost missed to check the plans for the over-light areas of our kitchen, but spotted the missed chance, and then managed to switch from solid to glass at the very last moment. Phew.
There's a third caveat, and this is more subtle. All the above gives you good and logical reasons why this or that wall can't be floor-to-ceiling glass. But even then, you'll still be left with plenty of uninterrupted stretches of glass wall. In our case, the windows start (almost) in one corner, and continue to the next corner of the house, round that, and onwards up to the next corner. Our early plans also added two more window sections to extend it still further around even that third corner.
So why did we revert those last two sections to solid walls?
Well, the trip to Hartenfels showed us why it's very important to have an emotional grounding to your house. Hard to explain what I mean by 'emotional grounding', but I'll give it a go. Your peripheral vision can be so overwhelmed by all that glass that you feel, well, threatened. Now most blokes know this feeling when they sit at a restaurant table; they'll invariably prefer to choose a nice corner where they can keep watch on the entire area, just in case of bandits, masked assassins, the Salvation Army, or whatever. Sit at a table with your back to the room and you feel somehow uncomfortable. Well, that's how Claudia and I felt in one of two of the Hartenfels show homes: far too much glass stretching left and right of our peripheral vision.
Yep, too much of a good thing.
So the bottom line is that yer've got to have some sort of solid wall to shove yer shoulder against, or you'll have nowhere to ground yerself emotionally. See what I mean? Oh Lordy, if you don't, then just imagine that we all have at least a mild case of agoraphobia, and too many windows will just aggravate yer agoraphobia.
Think about it anyway.
And what about the windows upstairs? Ahh, that subject deserves a different blog post entirely...
The following Huf Haus marketing picture serves as a good example...
(continued below)
Now everyone knows well that Huf Haus is famous for house designs that incorporate lots and lots of glass. And such glasswork offers plenty of natural light, and almost unlimited views of your garden and, well, the view.
The most impressive pieces of glass are of course those uninterrupted floor to ceiling sheets on the ground floor. These are further enhanced by the small over-lights (Oberleicht in German) that fill the gap between the top of the window joists and the bottom surface of the upper floor. If you have a butchers at the image above, you'll see plenty of examples. Keep in mind that such floor-to-ceiling windows are standard, as are the over-lights. (If we're being picky, the whopping big window on the right of the image is actually a full-size sliding door, but we're not being picky, are we.)
On the ground floor, the Huf Haus peeps allow yer to switch between solid wall, floor-to-ceiling window, glass top/solid bottom, and split windows. Yer split window is top and bottom glass, but has a wooden bar running horizontally through the middle of it. You can also switch between solid wall and window in the over-lights area.
And all this switching between wall and window is at no extra cost.
Yes, you read that right, which is why I italicised it. Huf Haus (God bless 'em) don't charge you more or less for switching from glass to solid exterior walls, or vice versa. Presumably, it costs much the same to them, so it costs the same to us. Little wonder that most people take advantage of this, and build themselves crystal goldfish bowls, erm, palaces.
There are some caveats though.
Firstly, some of those solid walls on yer plan aren't just there to spare yer modesty when using the downstairs loo. They actually help to hold the bloody house up. Statics, dear reader, statics. There's a minimum of wall needed for this, and yer Huf Haus happy chappie'll inform you what's needed and what ain't. But if you're building a variation of one of the standardised Huf Haus designs, (as we are, a 3.09.30 variant), you can see the essential minimum solid wall on those nice floor plans in the Huf Haus marketing literature. You'll also notice that some of those solid 'static' walls are internal, but that's another story.
Second caveat is that not every room is suited to being a glass bubble offered openly for full external scrutiny. We've already mentioned the downstairs loo, for which the coy solution is a solid wall, with a glass over-light. But then there's the kitchen. Do you really want to see the unpainted backs of those fancy Bulthaup kitchen units when yer watering yer garden? That's where the solid bottom/glass top option comes in. Right? And if you want to run a convenient shelf along a window? Aah, then you can use the split window and nail yer shelf to the horizontal wooden bar running through the middle.
There's a lot to be said for shoving in a glass over-light regardless of the wall or glass type below. We almost missed to check the plans for the over-light areas of our kitchen, but spotted the missed chance, and then managed to switch from solid to glass at the very last moment. Phew.
There's a third caveat, and this is more subtle. All the above gives you good and logical reasons why this or that wall can't be floor-to-ceiling glass. But even then, you'll still be left with plenty of uninterrupted stretches of glass wall. In our case, the windows start (almost) in one corner, and continue to the next corner of the house, round that, and onwards up to the next corner. Our early plans also added two more window sections to extend it still further around even that third corner.
So why did we revert those last two sections to solid walls?
Well, the trip to Hartenfels showed us why it's very important to have an emotional grounding to your house. Hard to explain what I mean by 'emotional grounding', but I'll give it a go. Your peripheral vision can be so overwhelmed by all that glass that you feel, well, threatened. Now most blokes know this feeling when they sit at a restaurant table; they'll invariably prefer to choose a nice corner where they can keep watch on the entire area, just in case of bandits, masked assassins, the Salvation Army, or whatever. Sit at a table with your back to the room and you feel somehow uncomfortable. Well, that's how Claudia and I felt in one of two of the Hartenfels show homes: far too much glass stretching left and right of our peripheral vision.
Yep, too much of a good thing.
So the bottom line is that yer've got to have some sort of solid wall to shove yer shoulder against, or you'll have nowhere to ground yerself emotionally. See what I mean? Oh Lordy, if you don't, then just imagine that we all have at least a mild case of agoraphobia, and too many windows will just aggravate yer agoraphobia.
Think about it anyway.
And what about the windows upstairs? Ahh, that subject deserves a different blog post entirely...
Friday, October 20, 2006
The Huf Haus Keller arrives...
The Huf Haus Keller has arrived! Calloo-callay, Oh frabjous day! He chortled to his joy.
Yes indeedy, the Keller (cellar) to our new home's arrived and already been installed into The Hole. And boy, is it a whopper, which goes a long way to explaining why The Hole was such a Bloody Big Hole. A work colleague and myself popped up to the land this lunch time (Friday) for a wee butchers at the progress. And a fine day for it, it was. We were greeted by silence ('cos the chain gang were probably in a local cafe scoffing sausages) and the whopping big concrete structure shown below.
(continued below)
After a brief stint snapping a few pickies with my mate's fancy phone camera, I did the obvious: I traversed a shaky looking plank to the top, and had a wee peep at the likely view we're going to get from our house, once it's up and standing.
None too shabby, was the prognosis. Although it'll be somewhat improved once the big heap of soil and stones that stands in the way's moved to its final resting place.
Well, The View's been a bit of a concern ever since we saw the depth of The Hole. Claudia was worried that the ground floor of the house would end up in some sort of a pan, and it's hard to see much of a view when yer house's underground. And I have to say I was a wee bit worried meself, especially when I saw the concrete plinth last week. Add yer 2.7 metres to that, and it'd still be a metre lower than I'd reckoned on. Well, worry we not, 'cos those keller walls are very high indeed (or is it deep? One is always confused when one discusses cellars). The picky below shows my mate stood next to t'keller wall, and although he's not the biggest bloke in Switzerland, he's also not a friend of Snow White's. I'd say they're over 3.5 metres high (deep!) in total, which explains why my head went a bit whoozy during the view inspection trip.
(continued below)
Both pickies show the two windows to the Bastelraum (That room) which will get their light via a slot which will be cut into the ground down to just below the bottom lips of the windows. We had a look through them, and I have to say there was a surprising amount of light in the concrete bunker within, and the room really did look bigger than I'd imagined.
What the pictures don't show very well is the extra insulation that's been applied to the outside of the Keller walls. This looks to me like black styrofoam, i.e. the same stuff as used for disposable coffee cups in the 1970s. Why the insulation? Well, wait until you see the pictures of the snow when winter finally descends upon us. It's probably obvious by now from the various pictures, but this really is yer bona fide alpine village, and the ground floor of our house will be (as I look around at the plans on my office wall) exactly 726.8 metres above sea level.
726.8 metre's about 2,385 feet, in old money. So we'd better wrap up warm then. In fact, that's why we're wrapping up the whole house as warm as we can.
What was also exciting to see was the vast expanse of area on the top of the Keller, which will ultimately be our ground floor. Cwikey, this is going to be a big house, and the open plan downstairs is going to look very open plan indeed. Nice problem to have, methinks, but could result in a spot of agoraphobia. Still, I'll be able to play indoor boule with our boys when Claudia's out and can't catch us.
Hmm, hope she doesn't read that.
Yes indeedy, the Keller (cellar) to our new home's arrived and already been installed into The Hole. And boy, is it a whopper, which goes a long way to explaining why The Hole was such a Bloody Big Hole. A work colleague and myself popped up to the land this lunch time (Friday) for a wee butchers at the progress. And a fine day for it, it was. We were greeted by silence ('cos the chain gang were probably in a local cafe scoffing sausages) and the whopping big concrete structure shown below.
(continued below)
After a brief stint snapping a few pickies with my mate's fancy phone camera, I did the obvious: I traversed a shaky looking plank to the top, and had a wee peep at the likely view we're going to get from our house, once it's up and standing.
None too shabby, was the prognosis. Although it'll be somewhat improved once the big heap of soil and stones that stands in the way's moved to its final resting place.
Well, The View's been a bit of a concern ever since we saw the depth of The Hole. Claudia was worried that the ground floor of the house would end up in some sort of a pan, and it's hard to see much of a view when yer house's underground. And I have to say I was a wee bit worried meself, especially when I saw the concrete plinth last week. Add yer 2.7 metres to that, and it'd still be a metre lower than I'd reckoned on. Well, worry we not, 'cos those keller walls are very high indeed (or is it deep? One is always confused when one discusses cellars). The picky below shows my mate stood next to t'keller wall, and although he's not the biggest bloke in Switzerland, he's also not a friend of Snow White's. I'd say they're over 3.5 metres high (deep!) in total, which explains why my head went a bit whoozy during the view inspection trip.
(continued below)
Both pickies show the two windows to the Bastelraum (That room) which will get their light via a slot which will be cut into the ground down to just below the bottom lips of the windows. We had a look through them, and I have to say there was a surprising amount of light in the concrete bunker within, and the room really did look bigger than I'd imagined.
What the pictures don't show very well is the extra insulation that's been applied to the outside of the Keller walls. This looks to me like black styrofoam, i.e. the same stuff as used for disposable coffee cups in the 1970s. Why the insulation? Well, wait until you see the pictures of the snow when winter finally descends upon us. It's probably obvious by now from the various pictures, but this really is yer bona fide alpine village, and the ground floor of our house will be (as I look around at the plans on my office wall) exactly 726.8 metres above sea level.
726.8 metre's about 2,385 feet, in old money. So we'd better wrap up warm then. In fact, that's why we're wrapping up the whole house as warm as we can.
What was also exciting to see was the vast expanse of area on the top of the Keller, which will ultimately be our ground floor. Cwikey, this is going to be a big house, and the open plan downstairs is going to look very open plan indeed. Nice problem to have, methinks, but could result in a spot of agoraphobia. Still, I'll be able to play indoor boule with our boys when Claudia's out and can't catch us.
Hmm, hope she doesn't read that.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Another Blogger...
Before I forget, here's a link to another Huf Haus blogger (Mr Bob Salmon of Sussex) who's UK-based project's only a couple of weeks behind mine...
http://bobshufhaus.blogspot.com
Should be interesting to compare notes.
http://bobshufhaus.blogspot.com
Should be interesting to compare notes.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Budget crisis!
So, the crisis of the month is upon us. We finally (finally finally, bloody finally) received a quote from the happy chappy who's going to be doing the landscaping. A trifle late, considering the bloody construction's under way, but then that's also a lesson learned; it's no skin off anyone's nose 'cept yer own if they quote late, 'cos yer still got to pay, right? And the later the quote, the more committed you are to that particular supplier.
Bugger.
Anyways, the finalised landscaping quote came in at CHF 105,000... (about 45,000 quid) and that's CHF 40,000 more than the preliminary quote we received from the same fellow a few months ago. And as the overall project was already CHF 90,000 over budget, yer can imagine how our hearts sank. We now had a CHF 130,000 mountain in front of us. Oo-er.
Anyways, while I updated the cost spreadsheet (tap tap tap, panic panic panic) Claudia hit the 'phone to inform Herr Landscaper, in her coy Swiss winsome way, that both the lateness and size of the quote was unacceptable, and he'd better think again, or else, or else, or else, erm... or else she'd be very very disappointed! Oh yes.
And it worked, to my surprise.
The following day we had an emergency meeting with Herr Arkitekt (he of the bow tie) and Herr Landscaper, both of which were looking somewhat contrite. Turns out the massive increase was due to the scope-creep of the 15 metre wide wall that'll be supporting our parking area (see various graphics below). This has grown (on paper) from being about 1.5 metres high, up and up and up, until it peaked at 3.3 metres high. What had been a good sensible wall that we could cover with virginia creeper and whatnot, had become a veritable cliff face. We'd need a funicular railway just to get to the sodding cars.
And the net result according to the pair of 'em? Well, the material for a bloody big wall like that costs money, and lots of it. And the foundations under it costs money, and plenty more. And all of it involves lots of work, which is still more dosh. Smaller wall equals smaller foundations equals less work equals smaller quote. Oh, and they have an idea which would look better anyway. Come see! Yes, from the top of a smaller wall the land could slope upwards to the parking area, and yer can grow pretty plants and stuff there. Aesthetically, it'll be a real boost, says them. And yer have the chance to relocate the steps to the side which'll look much much better. In fact, creatively speaking, they're really very enthusiastic about the ambience that the new solution'll bring to that immediate area. A real lift. Oh yes, a real boost.
"Sod all that ambience stuff", quoth I, "how much cheaper?"
"Dunno", sez them, "we need to cost it."
Figures.
Sooooo, Claudia and I left the meeting feeling a little better. But we decided we'd better do something radical to bring this CHF 130,000 budget over-run under some sort of control.
We reckoned we could could count on about CHF 25,000 from the Smaller Wall Solution, which would be a start. We can also stall the car port (CHF 20,000) until the following autumn 'cos the snows'll have melted by the time we move in (and possibly the soddin' ice-caps). And we decided to reduce the fancy plastering work in the infamous Bastelraum (yep that room) which should save us another CHF 15,000. So that comes to (counts on fingers) a total save of CHF 60,000, which means we're 'only' CHF 70,000 over budget. How to cover that? Well, we've already put my BMW X5 up for sale (wanna buy it?) to realise the capital, which is half way there. Oh, the sacrifices one has to make... erm, actually yer shouldn't feel too sorry for me, 'cos another newer X5, leased, arrived last week. And this one's got Sat-Nav, Heh heh heh.
Ahhhh, everything back under budgetary control (And a new car for your trulys, to boot).
And then last night (Stop press!) we had the first budgetary nice surprise of the project: the new quote for the Smaller Wall Solution arrived. The rethink had reduced the quote from the 'final' CHF 105,000 to the final final CHF 70,000. (It had better be) That's about CHF 10,000 better than we'd hoped, so we're down to a 'mere' CHF 60,000 budget over-run.
Phew.
So we now have to decide whether to reprieve the Bastelraum plastering or the car port. Or do we go for the fancy CHF 15,000 wooden decking for our garden terrasse? Or do we do the lot? Hmm, can't imagine how people get into such a mess with their budgeting...
And progress since last week? Well, the concrete base that the Keller'll slot onto has been plonked into the Big Hole... and the Keller itself should arrive later this week from the Huf factory in Hartenfels. In theory we'll have our Keller installed by the end of this week. Wow.
Bugger.
Anyways, the finalised landscaping quote came in at CHF 105,000... (about 45,000 quid) and that's CHF 40,000 more than the preliminary quote we received from the same fellow a few months ago. And as the overall project was already CHF 90,000 over budget, yer can imagine how our hearts sank. We now had a CHF 130,000 mountain in front of us. Oo-er.
Anyways, while I updated the cost spreadsheet (tap tap tap, panic panic panic) Claudia hit the 'phone to inform Herr Landscaper, in her coy Swiss winsome way, that both the lateness and size of the quote was unacceptable, and he'd better think again, or else, or else, or else, erm... or else she'd be very very disappointed! Oh yes.
And it worked, to my surprise.
The following day we had an emergency meeting with Herr Arkitekt (he of the bow tie) and Herr Landscaper, both of which were looking somewhat contrite. Turns out the massive increase was due to the scope-creep of the 15 metre wide wall that'll be supporting our parking area (see various graphics below). This has grown (on paper) from being about 1.5 metres high, up and up and up, until it peaked at 3.3 metres high. What had been a good sensible wall that we could cover with virginia creeper and whatnot, had become a veritable cliff face. We'd need a funicular railway just to get to the sodding cars.
And the net result according to the pair of 'em? Well, the material for a bloody big wall like that costs money, and lots of it. And the foundations under it costs money, and plenty more. And all of it involves lots of work, which is still more dosh. Smaller wall equals smaller foundations equals less work equals smaller quote. Oh, and they have an idea which would look better anyway. Come see! Yes, from the top of a smaller wall the land could slope upwards to the parking area, and yer can grow pretty plants and stuff there. Aesthetically, it'll be a real boost, says them. And yer have the chance to relocate the steps to the side which'll look much much better. In fact, creatively speaking, they're really very enthusiastic about the ambience that the new solution'll bring to that immediate area. A real lift. Oh yes, a real boost.
"Sod all that ambience stuff", quoth I, "how much cheaper?"
"Dunno", sez them, "we need to cost it."
Figures.
Sooooo, Claudia and I left the meeting feeling a little better. But we decided we'd better do something radical to bring this CHF 130,000 budget over-run under some sort of control.
We reckoned we could could count on about CHF 25,000 from the Smaller Wall Solution, which would be a start. We can also stall the car port (CHF 20,000) until the following autumn 'cos the snows'll have melted by the time we move in (and possibly the soddin' ice-caps). And we decided to reduce the fancy plastering work in the infamous Bastelraum (yep that room) which should save us another CHF 15,000. So that comes to (counts on fingers) a total save of CHF 60,000, which means we're 'only' CHF 70,000 over budget. How to cover that? Well, we've already put my BMW X5 up for sale (wanna buy it?) to realise the capital, which is half way there. Oh, the sacrifices one has to make... erm, actually yer shouldn't feel too sorry for me, 'cos another newer X5, leased, arrived last week. And this one's got Sat-Nav, Heh heh heh.
Ahhhh, everything back under budgetary control (And a new car for your trulys, to boot).
And then last night (Stop press!) we had the first budgetary nice surprise of the project: the new quote for the Smaller Wall Solution arrived. The rethink had reduced the quote from the 'final' CHF 105,000 to the final final CHF 70,000. (It had better be) That's about CHF 10,000 better than we'd hoped, so we're down to a 'mere' CHF 60,000 budget over-run.
Phew.
So we now have to decide whether to reprieve the Bastelraum plastering or the car port. Or do we go for the fancy CHF 15,000 wooden decking for our garden terrasse? Or do we do the lot? Hmm, can't imagine how people get into such a mess with their budgeting...
And progress since last week? Well, the concrete base that the Keller'll slot onto has been plonked into the Big Hole... and the Keller itself should arrive later this week from the Huf factory in Hartenfels. In theory we'll have our Keller installed by the end of this week. Wow.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
The Hole
Well, at the end of the previous week there was a sizable hole on our land, but that's nothing in comparision with the state of play at the end of yesterday.
Have a butchers...
(continued below...)
...erm, see what I mean? The hole has become THE HOLE, or The Hole to its friends.
Yes, our land is now composed mainly of air and shadows, 'cos the earth that formerly occupied the spot is now heaped on the farmer's field (God bless him). The walls of The Hole have been lined with concrete except for a three metre (10 foot) strip along the top which is still bare earth covered in plastic sheeting to keep it nice and dry. You'll see from the photo that the bottom of The Hole's also concrete lined. Not sure why, 'cos the Keller floor will be about 2-3 metres higher than the base of The Hole, so I imagine rather a lot of that earth needs to go back in, once the concrete's nice and dry.
Hmm, I think you'll agree that the technicalities of this operation are somewhat beyond me.
The digger's gone, which worries me a little. Could it be entombed beneath all that concrete? Or did the farmer nick it? Your guess is as good as mine.
Have a butchers...
(continued below...)
...erm, see what I mean? The hole has become THE HOLE, or The Hole to its friends.
Yes, our land is now composed mainly of air and shadows, 'cos the earth that formerly occupied the spot is now heaped on the farmer's field (God bless him). The walls of The Hole have been lined with concrete except for a three metre (10 foot) strip along the top which is still bare earth covered in plastic sheeting to keep it nice and dry. You'll see from the photo that the bottom of The Hole's also concrete lined. Not sure why, 'cos the Keller floor will be about 2-3 metres higher than the base of The Hole, so I imagine rather a lot of that earth needs to go back in, once the concrete's nice and dry.
Hmm, I think you'll agree that the technicalities of this operation are somewhat beyond me.
The digger's gone, which worries me a little. Could it be entombed beneath all that concrete? Or did the farmer nick it? Your guess is as good as mine.
Friday, October 06, 2006
A brief update...
Both of our internal design crises have been solved.
We've moved the windows in the Keller to t'other side of the house entirely. Yes, that does mean we don't have a view of the Swiss fjords from that Keller room, and the windows will be more of a light-channel than anything; the Keller windows will be located under the side of the house that already has solid walls (no glass above 'em) so problemo solved. However, there are two knock-on effects that we're really rather pleased with: the two floor-to-ceiling windows that had been placed on the risk register have now been deemed by the Huf people as being okey-dokey; and the general look of the house has improved, 'cos now it'll look more like yer classical Huf Haus. Good-o. And we'll now have room for two of those chain-like drain pipe thingies with round thingies on the ground to soak up the run-off rain water, so that's three knock-on effects. Dunno what they're called in German, English or Swahili but I know wot I mean.
Hmm, I should really revisit the previous paragraph, but to be frank I really can't be arsed.
Anyways, the picture below shows yer what I mean...
(continued below)
Where was I?
And the bathroom mirror? Well, we've cleverly solved that by, erm, not having one for now. We'll easily see what sort of mirror unit we'll need to fill the mirror unit sized hole, once the house is up and the bathroom nailed in.
And progress?
Well, the Keller arrives the week after next (eek! wow! gasp! cough!). The Huf Haus people definitely said (in writing, so it must be trooooooo) it'll come in week 42. A tap tap tappity tap on my Palm Pilot confirms that the Americans believe week 42 to be the week after next. But I have a nagging feeling that them Germans use the metric week numbering system (50 weeks in a year) so it might be the week after that. Daft, I know, but I hardly dare ask.
The weather's been a bit on/off this week, with plenty of raindrops on Sunday and Monday, and a few more yesterday. A glance out of the window just now confirms that the Zurich outlook is dry for at least the next day or so. Phew.
A little more information regarding our parking area: Herr Arkitekt's updated the ground leveling plans to incorporate his ideas for wot our neighbour should do to be able to continue to park his car on his land (via our sodding land). Looks reasonable to me, but maybe not to Herr Neighbour. He'll have to cut a half metre slot into the land under and around his parking area so that it'll be on a similar level to our parking area. Either that or buy a Hummer. No feedback yet, but I don't see him having much of a choice. I really hope he'll be satisfied anyway, 'cos it'll be better for all and sundry if he's a happy bunny.
We've moved the windows in the Keller to t'other side of the house entirely. Yes, that does mean we don't have a view of the Swiss fjords from that Keller room, and the windows will be more of a light-channel than anything; the Keller windows will be located under the side of the house that already has solid walls (no glass above 'em) so problemo solved. However, there are two knock-on effects that we're really rather pleased with: the two floor-to-ceiling windows that had been placed on the risk register have now been deemed by the Huf people as being okey-dokey; and the general look of the house has improved, 'cos now it'll look more like yer classical Huf Haus. Good-o. And we'll now have room for two of those chain-like drain pipe thingies with round thingies on the ground to soak up the run-off rain water, so that's three knock-on effects. Dunno what they're called in German, English or Swahili but I know wot I mean.
Hmm, I should really revisit the previous paragraph, but to be frank I really can't be arsed.
Anyways, the picture below shows yer what I mean...
(continued below)
Where was I?
And the bathroom mirror? Well, we've cleverly solved that by, erm, not having one for now. We'll easily see what sort of mirror unit we'll need to fill the mirror unit sized hole, once the house is up and the bathroom nailed in.
And progress?
Well, the Keller arrives the week after next (eek! wow! gasp! cough!). The Huf Haus people definitely said (in writing, so it must be trooooooo) it'll come in week 42. A tap tap tappity tap on my Palm Pilot confirms that the Americans believe week 42 to be the week after next. But I have a nagging feeling that them Germans use the metric week numbering system (50 weeks in a year) so it might be the week after that. Daft, I know, but I hardly dare ask.
The weather's been a bit on/off this week, with plenty of raindrops on Sunday and Monday, and a few more yesterday. A glance out of the window just now confirms that the Zurich outlook is dry for at least the next day or so. Phew.
A little more information regarding our parking area: Herr Arkitekt's updated the ground leveling plans to incorporate his ideas for wot our neighbour should do to be able to continue to park his car on his land (via our sodding land). Looks reasonable to me, but maybe not to Herr Neighbour. He'll have to cut a half metre slot into the land under and around his parking area so that it'll be on a similar level to our parking area. Either that or buy a Hummer. No feedback yet, but I don't see him having much of a choice. I really hope he'll be satisfied anyway, 'cos it'll be better for all and sundry if he's a happy bunny.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Capucho on holes
There's a bloody big hole in our land, and it feels good.
We hadn't been in a position to visit our building plot since the previous Friday due to work, kids, and the normal routine that barely leaves us with enough time to breathe, never mind visit a building site. So the first clue that some serious digging had (finally) commenced was when Herr Arkitekt, he of the bow-tie, called us to strongly advise us to talk to our neighbours. Seems that two out of three of the immediate neighbours had waylaid him to discuss/observe/harangue on this detail or that. We were especially to talk to Big-House-Above-Us, because they had an axe to grind over something or other, and clearly needed some reassurance on whatever it was. Lord knows what, 'cos their house is high enough above us to minimise any loss of view. Still, people can be tricky.
"Hello", finks I, "something tangible must have happened to trigger these chats".
So, Claudia (God bless her) looked up the phone numbers of our new neighbours, called them one at a time, and arranged for a series of friendly chats on the Saturday afternoon (yesterday).
So, come the Saturday lunchtime, we piled kids into car, drove up to the site. And found this...
(continues below)
...which looked like pretty tangible progress to me.
Apart from a small strip of grass along one of the boundaries, just about every square metre of land had been replaced with hole. And lots of it. Kids were asleep in the car, so we had time to have a proper butchers. Well, we looked at our hole, pointed out certain hole features, especially in those areas where the hole looked deeper, and admired the plastic sheeting that (we figured) was something to do with protecting the slopey bits from the inevitable torrential rains. Most British holes are shaped more like Somme trenches 'cos I don't think brits build cellars these days, but yer Swiss hole needs to be Keller-shaped, and generally, this hole was. Some more hole-making was clearly needed, but the essence of the hole was certainly there.
Sooooo, after taking a few snaps for posterity, we banged on the first neighbour's door; the Small-House-Below-Us. Yer can see it in the photo above, behind the car.
Synopsis of the conversation with the nice late-forties chap we met: It's building land, and he knew it would be built on one day. We shouldn't worry about the noise, 'cos he's out at work all day anyway. Oh, and could he have the big stones wot the digger had come across, and piled up, 'cos they'd look a treat in his garden. Course yer can, chum. First neighbourly relationship starts as well as anyone could ever wish. Seriously, first impressions are that's he's a top bloke.
Next neighbour, the Bigger-House-Behind-Us... well, this conversation deserves more than a synopsis.
We'd been wondering how well this neighbour was going to take the fact that a bloody big Huf Haus was about to hide about 50% of his view. In fact, it was this neighbour that we were expecting some controversy from. In short, here be trouble, and we were only half prepared for it. But boy, what we heard wasn't quite what we expected.
Older bloke with teenage son greets us, and whisks us to their terrasse area, offering wonderful views of our new hole, and soon to be 50% obscured rolling pasture land. Oo-er. Coffee? Ooh, thank's awfully. Sugar? Milk? No thanks, take it black. Excited about your new project? Oh, yes we are. Very. How old are the kids? etc etc etc.
And then the bomb-shell: unknown to us, but possibly/probably known to Herr Arkitekt, a significant slice of our land had been used a few years ago to widen our neighbour's drive way. Er wot? Yep, a loooooong wedge of our land had been 'conquered' by our neighbour to widen his drive way to make his parking access feasible. Imagine a loooooong equilateral triangle of about 24 metres by 2.5 metres, where the 2.5 metre bit is at his entrance, and yer'll get the gist. Yer can see the line of it in the photo above, where that green warning tape runs along the side of the hole. And without a doubt, no nicked triangle would have meant no access to parking.
Hmmmmm.
Now call me old-fashioned, but we'd just spent a fortune on 660 square metres of grassy building land, and approximately 30 square metres of that had someone else's drive way on it. Why, that's erm erm, yeah that's about 5% of our land. Wow.
Hmmmmm, why do we find out about this now?
Hmmmmm.
It's then we realised that these people had been worrying about this, and for quite some time. It turns out that their predecessors had done the land grabbing, and hadn't informed, well, anybody. Honest, guv. The present owners had found out during a land survey a couple of years previously, and had then waited until today to starts discussions for an amicable and pragmatic solution. Which is what they'll get. At least that's our intention, 'cos Claudia and I are nice people with nice kids, and want to be on nice terms with our nice neighbours in this 'ere nice village.
We agreed to meet up on a further occasion with Herr Arkitekt to discuss something like a solution that would allow us both to share a wider, common entrance; good for them, and good for us. Not quite job done, but definitely in the right direction.
But why, oh why, did I have the feeling that we'd been 'handled', as in "leave it to me, I'll handle them"? And this feel intensified when (just as we were about to leave) his wife turned up, and 'greeted' us with a frosty look, and that 'correct' sort of handshake that diplomats use when negotiating the terms of an armistice to a war that had cost their nations millions of lives. In short, 'correct', but most certainly not friendly.
One has the feeling that this sub-plot is going to develop into quite a story.
And Big-House-Above-Us? They weren't in. Thank God.
We hadn't been in a position to visit our building plot since the previous Friday due to work, kids, and the normal routine that barely leaves us with enough time to breathe, never mind visit a building site. So the first clue that some serious digging had (finally) commenced was when Herr Arkitekt, he of the bow-tie, called us to strongly advise us to talk to our neighbours. Seems that two out of three of the immediate neighbours had waylaid him to discuss/observe/harangue on this detail or that. We were especially to talk to Big-House-Above-Us, because they had an axe to grind over something or other, and clearly needed some reassurance on whatever it was. Lord knows what, 'cos their house is high enough above us to minimise any loss of view. Still, people can be tricky.
"Hello", finks I, "something tangible must have happened to trigger these chats".
So, Claudia (God bless her) looked up the phone numbers of our new neighbours, called them one at a time, and arranged for a series of friendly chats on the Saturday afternoon (yesterday).
So, come the Saturday lunchtime, we piled kids into car, drove up to the site. And found this...
(continues below)
...which looked like pretty tangible progress to me.
Apart from a small strip of grass along one of the boundaries, just about every square metre of land had been replaced with hole. And lots of it. Kids were asleep in the car, so we had time to have a proper butchers. Well, we looked at our hole, pointed out certain hole features, especially in those areas where the hole looked deeper, and admired the plastic sheeting that (we figured) was something to do with protecting the slopey bits from the inevitable torrential rains. Most British holes are shaped more like Somme trenches 'cos I don't think brits build cellars these days, but yer Swiss hole needs to be Keller-shaped, and generally, this hole was. Some more hole-making was clearly needed, but the essence of the hole was certainly there.
Sooooo, after taking a few snaps for posterity, we banged on the first neighbour's door; the Small-House-Below-Us. Yer can see it in the photo above, behind the car.
Synopsis of the conversation with the nice late-forties chap we met: It's building land, and he knew it would be built on one day. We shouldn't worry about the noise, 'cos he's out at work all day anyway. Oh, and could he have the big stones wot the digger had come across, and piled up, 'cos they'd look a treat in his garden. Course yer can, chum. First neighbourly relationship starts as well as anyone could ever wish. Seriously, first impressions are that's he's a top bloke.
Next neighbour, the Bigger-House-Behind-Us... well, this conversation deserves more than a synopsis.
We'd been wondering how well this neighbour was going to take the fact that a bloody big Huf Haus was about to hide about 50% of his view. In fact, it was this neighbour that we were expecting some controversy from. In short, here be trouble, and we were only half prepared for it. But boy, what we heard wasn't quite what we expected.
Older bloke with teenage son greets us, and whisks us to their terrasse area, offering wonderful views of our new hole, and soon to be 50% obscured rolling pasture land. Oo-er. Coffee? Ooh, thank's awfully. Sugar? Milk? No thanks, take it black. Excited about your new project? Oh, yes we are. Very. How old are the kids? etc etc etc.
And then the bomb-shell: unknown to us, but possibly/probably known to Herr Arkitekt, a significant slice of our land had been used a few years ago to widen our neighbour's drive way. Er wot? Yep, a loooooong wedge of our land had been 'conquered' by our neighbour to widen his drive way to make his parking access feasible. Imagine a loooooong equilateral triangle of about 24 metres by 2.5 metres, where the 2.5 metre bit is at his entrance, and yer'll get the gist. Yer can see the line of it in the photo above, where that green warning tape runs along the side of the hole. And without a doubt, no nicked triangle would have meant no access to parking.
Hmmmmm.
Now call me old-fashioned, but we'd just spent a fortune on 660 square metres of grassy building land, and approximately 30 square metres of that had someone else's drive way on it. Why, that's erm erm, yeah that's about 5% of our land. Wow.
Hmmmmm, why do we find out about this now?
Hmmmmm.
It's then we realised that these people had been worrying about this, and for quite some time. It turns out that their predecessors had done the land grabbing, and hadn't informed, well, anybody. Honest, guv. The present owners had found out during a land survey a couple of years previously, and had then waited until today to starts discussions for an amicable and pragmatic solution. Which is what they'll get. At least that's our intention, 'cos Claudia and I are nice people with nice kids, and want to be on nice terms with our nice neighbours in this 'ere nice village.
We agreed to meet up on a further occasion with Herr Arkitekt to discuss something like a solution that would allow us both to share a wider, common entrance; good for them, and good for us. Not quite job done, but definitely in the right direction.
But why, oh why, did I have the feeling that we'd been 'handled', as in "leave it to me, I'll handle them"? And this feel intensified when (just as we were about to leave) his wife turned up, and 'greeted' us with a frosty look, and that 'correct' sort of handshake that diplomats use when negotiating the terms of an armistice to a war that had cost their nations millions of lives. In short, 'correct', but most certainly not friendly.
One has the feeling that this sub-plot is going to develop into quite a story.
And Big-House-Above-Us? They weren't in. Thank God.
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