Closing Titusville for the winter

After a long week of curing at stable temps in the bubble, we removed the roof scaf and got everything ready for the next phase in the spring: cornice, box gutters, and (new) salvaged slate roof.

The new chimney looks a lot better than it did before and has the right mortar now.

One of the benefits of doing the project in proper steps: we get to trash the existing roof before tear-off and dry in while doing the masonry. This would be incredibly complicated and costly to do later, after the new roof is in. If you are getting a permanent roof installed, and have chimneys. Always complete the chimneys first while the original roofing is in place.

photo of today

They said it better than I could…

we used up all those resources… and the rest are still (mostly) protected thank heavens. There is no ethical source for new noble lumber. If you must build new: build in 3 wythe brick with lime putty mortar. or don’t bother because you’re just burning energy for a build that will be gone in 100 years or less.

Chimney down to roofline.

We started re-laying brick on the first corses of the chimney today. It’s Belden brick, wire scored with a medium fire. I’ve never laid 20th century brick before and there’s definately a learning curve. The bricks don’t pull as much water from the mortar so it needs to be much drier than what i’m used to flowing for “pumkin” brick.

I finished the front room of the apartment, and started templating some upholstry for the window unit surrond and a corner headboard/shelf for the bed.

shoutout to the optometrist/eyeglass store who threw out a big haul of printed vinyl! Finding uses for it everywhere.
tony montana.
the walls are a mess and it’s not my job to fix them right now. They flat grey did a great job masking most of the imperfections and bringing out the lines in the trim, I expect the same for the bedroom.
first time i’ve had a bed, lamp, and side table in a space that was my own since 2010.

progress in Titusville

I’m heading back today to set up for the last side of the garage. Next up will be the built-in gutters on the main house. Here’s some shots I grabbed when I was on location last time. is the truth!

taken from blog:

December 12, 2018


Structural masonry refers to the practice of using masonry, brick or stone, in such mass that it becomes self-supporting.  Sufficient stabilization usually begins to occur when a wall reaches 8” thick of solid masonry for something small, say, a garden wall.  Larger structures, like houses, are usually one foot thick—like the home you are standing in—or more.    

It is one of the oldest building methodologies, and by far the most resilient.  From the Egyptian Pyramids and Roman Pantheon to the Vatican and the Biltmore, stone and brick masonry have been used to build the world’s most iconic and enduring structures.  Though it wasn’t just reserved for monumental buildings; it was just as widely used to build the humblest of cottages.  It is simply how most of the settled (non nomadic) world has built.

Brick masonry, specifically, was popularized by the Romans with their exploration of arches—a tool used to span large openings in a masonry structure without massive stones (compared to the huge stone lintels spanning the columns in the Greek Parthenon)—ushering in new possibilities and a whole new era in architecture. 

It was only recently, with the industrial revolution and its offspring of mass produced nails, lumber mills and processed materials, that the building methodology used through most of human civilization was upended.  Collectively known as “stick-framing”, masonry was replaced by two-by-fours, plywood and plastic wrap.  Stick framing itself was a remarkable innovation, enabling quick, cheap, mass-produced housing.  A helpful tool, to be sure, when quick and cheap housing is needed.  But it has since become the only tool.

Even as wealth in the US grew drastically post WWII, and far more permanent housing could be afforded by a great deal of the population, size trumped quality.  Rather than build better homes, we simply built cheap homes bigger.  Since 1973, the average new house size has increased 62% (from 1,660 sq/ft  in 1973 to 2,687 sq/ft in 2015).  Over the same time, the average household size has steadily decreased, meaning the square feet of living space per person in a new house has nearly DOUBLED in the last 45 years.

Even in luxury housing, when size has peaked, we simply apply increasingly expensive bells and whistle.  But the bones remain fragile.  The home is but a sturdy tent with decorative gold plating—and tents don’t last.  In fact, the average lifespan of a house in the US is 70 years.  We now have a country full of mass-produced, temporary housing.

Don’t be fooled by the new brick and stone buildings you see today—they are merely a thin veneer, a cladding, held up by the sticks behind them.  Many of them span openings with thin sheets of metal that rust away all too quickly.  They are pretending to be brick buildings.  And that’s why they never look quite right—they are just illusions. 

There are still structural brick buildings in America in the old downtowns, and especially in the old cities: Savannah, Charleston, Chicago.  And they are by far the most coveted buildings, being retrofitted into the coolest lofts, coffeeshops and offices.  Why? Because in our disposable culture we long for something real.

At Building Culture, we believe houses can be more than the chemically laden, machine-produced shelters churned out by the construction-industrial complex.  They can be homes—places we love, care for and feel intimately connected to.  They can enrich our lives and communities, and contribute to a cultural heritage worth passing down.   But first we must rediscover how to build authentically, and remember how to build things that last.        

This is why we choose to build with structural masonry.  It is the most durable building methodology in existence, and its authenticity is self-evident.  Why is a brick the size it is?  To fit the human hand.  What is it made from? Clay—the stuff we’ve been walking on and digging our hands into for millennia.  When a home is sculpted from over 60,000 hand-lain brick, of course the outcome is authentic.  It’s human.  And with each passing year it gains beauty and patina.  It takes care of, and is taken care of, by many as it is inherited by successive generations.  Its walls tell stories.  It lives.