Regular readers will recall that this spring I helped neighbor D dig and pour the columns for the all-around veranda they planned for their earthbag & strawbale extravaganza. Two years ago they spent all season mudding the strawbales, and last year’s epic monsoon washed a bunch of that mud right the hell back off. The only part of the exterior that remained undamaged was the part under the veranda on the north side of the house. So, the simplest solution seemed to be to extend the veranda 180o.
The woodwork took most of the summer. This is D’s baby: When he gets a chance to do something with exposed wood, it’s bloody gonna look good or he’s not going to do it. You can’t tell from my crappy cellphone photograph, but every one of those diagonal braces is hand-chiseled to fit.
He’s going around and putting on the roofing now, and mostly it looks like that was the plan all along. Really nice.
I was out here a couple of days ago with my satellite-dish-aiming gadget because it was time to cover up the spot where the dish stuck out, which of course meant we needed to move the dish.
I know first hand how much work it is to make exposed wood in a home look good, the owners should be proud of their achievement. The overhang also has the advantage of helping to keep the interior cool by limited the direct sunlight. BTW I know the interior walls of strawbale homes are sealed with plaster however I thought it was plaster on the outside too.
In this case it’s homemade adobe inside and out. Inside, they had a dreadful time finishing it: They practically had to re-invent paint before they found a solution that would stick to their adobe. Outside, the coating washed off down to the straw over and over.
Yes, it was suggested that other coatings are available. They knew what they wanted, and they would settle for absolutely nothing else. D&L’s obstinacy in the face of repeated setbacks helps me to understand early Christian martyrs.
Thanks Joel, that explains a lot. I know how hard it is to build a house that fits ones dream home definition. You should have seen all the trials and tribulations my wife and I had when we built a log home 13 years ago. When I am asked it I will ever move, my stock answer is that the next pine box II will reside in is when I take my dirt nap.
Straw bale houses make me twitchy.
I hate to be a negative nelly, but there’s a reason that pretty much everybody stopped building them ten years ago.
Mold, rot, critters, water infiltration, stench…
I wish them the best, but I fear the worst…
This is group of two cognitive dissonance on a grand scale. Straw bale homes are supposed to be sealed inside and out, outside with lime plaster. It’s so interesting how always always always a refusal to accept reality and a repeated refrain of I want leads to failure and martyrdom. In this case it will likely lead to moldy and rotten straw bales and hoardes of bugs and snakes. With the overhang all around there is no way for the wet (and they will get wet and already have) straw bales to have the air circulation to dry out. With air circulation shut off, I wonder if spontaneous combustion or smokeless burning of the wet straw is possible. Hmmmmm.
I’m not sure that’s correct, Zelda. The overhang will keep rain from beating on the walls, but up on their ridgetop I don’t know how you’d ever stop air circulation.