Tales from the Microbial Laboratory

~details~

    Mexican Sunflower after the first freeze of the year - the hollow stems bent, the orange of the flower petals now resembling tissue paper.  Often I think I like them like this as much as like this.

~~~~~

The chicken's body and it's severed head were nowhere to be found this morning.  I'm guessing that some lucky night visitor benefited from Annabelle's actions yesterday.  Hopefully Saturday my neighbor will come to his house (he isn't living there yet - he is spending his weekends fixing it up) - and I'll confess the new old dog's sins...and offer to buy him another hen - although I think we need to have a talk about where he keeps them.  He seems like a nice guy - I don't think he'll freak out or anything.

~~~~~

This evening after a late meeting at work - I was able to attend a talk given by my architherapist.  I haven't spoken of him in awhile, mainly because my house plans are on-hold due to issues related to job security.  I'm a research track professor, so I write grants to bring in my salary - and grants have become painfully difficult to get (budget cuts are slashing university budgets nation-wide, and grant agencies are getting more applications as a result, making the competition stiff).  Often times success rates are in the single digits.

So the house is on hold.

And I've got alot of grant applications to write.

(But I won't complain about that tonight).

So the talk, given by my architherapist, was co-sponsored by the Clemson Architecture Center and the Charleston Civic Design Center and held at FISH downtown.  He had a standing-room only crowd, and spoke about several of his home designs, and his artwork.

He started with a quote by Oscar Wilde, on his first slide, one that I wasn't familiar with:

The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible.

I sort of got hung up on this quote.

My lab, in many ways, studies the mysteries of the invisible world.  

Except - we have ways of viewing them.

So I couldn't stop thinking that it is not so much what we see - but what we are aware of - what we allow ourselves to see.

Perhaps I'd say...the true mystery of the world is in our awareness, not in the visible.

And so you can see - after a long meeting at work, I kept going in this foolish circle, obsessing over an Oscar Wilde quote.

On the way home, as I turned off the highway to head down the road towards the marsh - I saw police lights behind me, and pulled over.  It seems that my license plate light(s) were out.

I didn't know there were lights there.

I'm absolutely horrible regarding the details of my life.

~~~~ 

Enough for tonight.  I'm tired.

LEED in the NYTimes

Today while driving over the IOP connector, after a morning walk on Sullivan's - I couldn't resist lowering the passenger window and taking this image as the traffic slowed down.  There's something wonderfully expansive about the coastal marshes here that reminds me of fields that stretch for miles in central michigan where I lived during graduate school.  Open spaces like this make me want to stop for awhile - and contemplate how far I might actually be able to see if I stood on my toes.

~~~~~

There was an interesting article in the NYTimes today, The New Trophy Home, Small and Ecological (NYTimes, Felicity Barrows, 22 June 2008), that discussed the increasing interest in building LEED homes across the US.  Of course this article caught my eye, since as I type this, three different builders have my architherapist's plans for my 1,600 sq ft home that we plan to take through the LEED certification process - they are scheduled to get quotes to us by the end of June.  If I remember correctly, one of the builders has had experience building LEED (at home at the Silver level) and the other two much less so, although they are enthused about gaining experience in the LEED arena.  This means that they are enthused about minimizing, separating and recycling construction debris, even weighing it, and having a LEED inspector look over their shoulder from time-to-time at different stages of the building process. 

I started this whole process by meeting with two architects - which ended up in my working with Architect No. 2 (aka my architherapist) - who I met for the first time in March 2007.  Granted, the past year has been a bit tumultuous and at times overwhelming, but slowly we moved forward:  plans were drawn up and obsessed over and then redrawn, we've pondered geothermal, solar hot water, found enough salvaged longleaf pine for a few rooms, talked icynene, invasive species, windows and roofs - we drew up a landscape plan, have had geotechnical and critical line surveys - and input from both a structural engineer and an HVAC guy.  We haven't really formerly sat down with our LEED certifier and counted out LEED points that we should qualify for - but we hope to go for Platinum LEED certification.  We'd like to do that - but I'm guessing that the builders and their quotes/bids are going to help define what we can and cannot do.   I didn't realize how rare a Platinum LEED home still was, until I read the passage from the NYTimes article below:

More than 1,500 commercial buildings and 684 homes have been certified but just 48 homes have received the platinum ranking, among them a four-bedroom home in Freeport, Me., as well as homes in Minneapolis; Callaway, Fla.; Dexter, Mich.; and Paterson, N.J. The checklist for certification can be more daunting than a private-school application, which prompts many to abandon the quest.   

There have been moments when I've thought why go through this - why not just go and build a house and anyway, who says that you can't build to LEED standards, but without the extra cost of certification and consultants, and all of the paperwork?  I guess that I have just felt all along that LEED makes sense.  When you study it up-close, much of what it is about is durability of construction, energy efficiency - and you definitely get more points for building a smaller home (which could get me off on a rant of how large some homes are, begging the obvious question 'WHY????' and perhaps in some small way LEED can encourage a trend to build smaller homes (which does seem to be occurring out there, whether or not LEED is partially responsible for that trend I don't know.) 

LEED 2009 is currently holding an open comment period (that seems to end today).  From a letter posted online from Rick Fedrizzi (President, CEO & Founding Chair, USGBC):

The USGBC Board of Directors has voted unanimously to open for public comment LEED 2009, a new version of the rating system that delivers against key environmental and human health impacts, and puts in place a transparent framework for weighting credits accordingly, based on the best available science. It is the product of thousands of hours of volunteer time and deep expertise generously given by representatives from every corner of the building industry. 

You can read about the commenting process here.

My thoughts?  I think that LEED for homes has seemed to emphasize building communities of homes, and is a bit more challenging for the individual homeowner.  To the best of my knowledge, a person getting a small neighborhood LEED certified is charged a similar certification fee as I do, for just building one home.  There also are not many LEED certified professionals yet in our area - definitely one, maybe two - and I'm guessing with all of the LEED projects popping up in Charleston County right now, that they are pretty overloaded.  I've also thought that while housing density is a criteria (so you can gain 'neighborhood' points by living closer to schools, churches, public transportation, etc) - folks that are living outside of the city shouldn't be penalized for wanting to build a LEED certified home - so I can't help but think that their 'site evaluation' could be tiered in someway to encourage those not just building in high density areas to build LEED. 

So talk to me in about a month, after the bids are in, after I've sat down for the first 'formal' LEED inspection of the house design - and after I've written that first LEED check.  I'm sure that I'll have more to say then. 

~temporary fixes~

It's warm out, the kinda warm that still meets you at the door when you walk outside at 9 at night - where you're greeted by a whole wall of warm air - rushing up to you like it can't wait to meet you.  It's like August, but a few months too soon.

The Eichinacea 'Sunrise' (Big Sky Series) doesn't seem to mind.  They're starting to bloom like crazy-things.

~~~~~

So the day began with the lovely sound of rushing water - a prior temporary fix ended up being only temporary - so after three trips to the hardware store, one change of clothes and $12 later, I can gladly report to you that it is once again temporarily fixed.  Yes - I'm nodding my head in agreement:  this place has gotta be demolished soon.  Before I know it, it'll only be held together by ducktape, rope, silicone glue, and random pieces of plumbing hardware.  Fortunately, my architherapist is talking like things are moving forward - he's getting information back from the structural engineer, is waiting to hear from the HVAC consultant - and on Wednesday he is sitting with a prospective builder and going over the builder set, include all of the LEED-related issues (since it changes the whole process a bit - since there will be a LEED certifier involved in evaluating the building process at distinct stages).  I've got to finish packing up this house - I'm close.  But you know what they say about packing - how the first 90% is easy, and the last 10% is hell.   

~~~~~

'...14 scaffolds, 24 contigs and 445 low quality...'

Yep, our genome of the temperature-dependent coral pathogen is arriving in various packages - we've got a steep learning curve ahead of us on this.  Steep like rock-climbing steep.  An interesting challenge though - one that we'll jump into here soon - and hopefully, one day soon, we'll have a fully assembled and annotated genome that we'll publish, and then use in numerous ways to help us with on-going studies in the lab.  Our first genome!  It's quite exciting.

~~~~~

There's simply too much to think about these days, and boy would a break from thinking be nice.  Even if it's only temporary.

"...and floating terraces"

While I was in Virginia last weekend, I spent quite a bit of time admiring a bearded iris in bloom in my Mother's garden.  It's one that I'll need to be sure to grab a piece of in the fall - to add to a growing bed of bearded irises in my own garden.

~~~~~

There's been alot going on of late.  There's movement on the house front, the laboratory seems to be in a bit of a frenzy (which is a good thing - and this is in spite of the fact that I spend 50% of my week in a meeting-induced coma while my garden is blissfully unware) - so, this all means that I'm swamped at work and the garden is in desperate need of my attention.  I still haven't decided on what fountain to purchase -- and I'm being unusually fickle about it.  I'm telling myself:  This week.  I'll make a decision this week.  I did manage to attend two Spoleto events, during this last week of the festival - the Carolina Chocolate Drops and Laurie Andersen (with surprise guest, her husband - Lou Reed).  The grass needs mowing, I still want to plant some annuals (in rows) in my raised garden beds - sunflowers, zinnias, and marigolds - and I still want to get my scarlet runner beans and purple hyacinth beans in the ground (yes, I'm late, I know).

And I have plants, plants sitting on the edge of my front garden is bags - mostly siberian and bearded irises, lilies, and two blueberry bushes - that I brought back from my Mother's garden that I need to plant.  Last weekend I helped my Father make one area of the garden easier to maintain - an area around two large cherry trees that had some irises and lots of smaller blueberry bushes that my Mother just planted there two years ago.  Some of the blueberries went to a neighbor, and then I brought two home - and now my Father is able to more easily mow the area around the trees.  He seemed relieved by this small change.  As much as I am not ready to accept this yet - we will need to slowly dismantled parts of my Mother's garden.  My Father is wonderful with the vegetable garden - but he is less motivated (and skilled) with respect to the flowers.

Today would have been - is - my Mother and Father's 55th wedding anniversary.  My Father has been sad today.

~~~~~

So it looks like this house...might get built.  I might meet as early as next week with my architherapist, the builder, and the LEED consultant - that would be a big step forward.  Structural and HVAC engineers have had the building plans this week (they are required for LEED).  I've actually made my way into a tile store (Melcer Tile) - and I actually took my camera to get some images of things I liked.  I'm leaning towards glass tiles in the kitchen for the backsplash - something in shades of blue and/or green - and while I saw some things I liked at Melcer, I'm leaning towards recycled glass tiles - from a place like Bedrock Industries.  I don't like all of their stuff - but there are some nice blues and greens that I could get in 4"x4" or 5"x5" tiles.  And I liked that they are made from 100% recycled material.  Another thing that I need to look at is fireplace inserts -- I'll have a two-way fireplace located inbetween the living and dining rooms - and we're looking for an efficient insert for that if we can find one (the Oracle fireplace is the only one that I've been able to find so far).  So there's much to do - and in a week or two, there will be even more -- as I get ready to finally jump into Airstream Life.  This weekend I need to resume packing - much of it is done, but there is still some stuff that I need to go through, and to decide what goes into storage, and what I absolutely must keep with me.  The list of what I absolutely MUST have is dwindling - it's been an interesting process over the past six to eight months of shedding the things that generally comfort me, and how relatively easy it is to go without them.

~~~~~

During the past several weeks lab meetings have resumed - and as usual, Katherine has been reading us a poem - some of them from poets presenting at this year's Sundown Poetry Series as part of Piccolo Spoleto (poets that I have neglected to mention here).  This past Wednesday, she read to us a poem from a poet that lives just across the border in North Carolina...and I can't help but dream about a floating terrace, floating across the grass in the front garden, shaded by the live oaks - or perhaps floating just over the tomatoes in their large pots in the side garden.  Better yet, perhaps it would linger over the two large gardenias, both in full bloom - just as the sun goes down, when one can't seem to gather enough of the fragrance around them, as if one ever could.      

~~~~~

When Our House Was Old by Malena Morling

If it's true

what Lorca said,

that dead people

hate the number two,

what do you suppose

they think of

the number three?

The number three

that can vanish

without a trace

twice into

the number six

and three times

into the number nine.

I'll tell you,

if I were dead,

I'd love

the number nine.

Because it's

as if it's made

of metal.

And it's liIac-

colored and beautiful

like a circle.

And also because

any number

divisible by nine,

itself adds up to nine.

Take for instance,

the number 18 or 27 or 36 ...

It's a puzzle

that's immaterial

and soundless,

like a shuttle.

A shuttle only the dead

travel by

from the horizon

to the pawnshops

in Vivian

and back.

Or from the horizon

to the stockyards

in Omaha

and from the stockyards

to Spain.

And from Spain;

back in time to when our house

was old

and we had

a lot of books

and Lorca was our light

of eyelids

and billfolds,

of bitter roots

and floating terraces.

From Katherine:  Malena Morling, Assistant Professor of Creative Writing at the University of North Carolina, Wilmington, is the author of "Ocean Avenue," selected by Phillip Levine for the New Issues Poetry Prize. She has translated works by the Swedish poet Tomas Transtromer, a selection of which appears in the collection "For the Living and the Dead".  Her work has appeared in numerous publications including The New York Times Book Review, New Republic, Washington Post Book World, Ploughshares, New England Review, and Five Points.

~a weekend~

Could the whole world fit onto the flower head of a red onion?  Sometimes it's hard not to think so.  My vegetable bed is now filled with the flowers of red, white, and yellow onions - glorious heads of white - with most of them (except for this odd exception) filled with insecta visitors of all shapes, sizes, and colors.  I need to start harvesting the onions - I mean, isn't that the point?  (But I'd rather wait until the flowers are finished doing their thing).

~~~~~ 

My one large nandina is in flower - a passalong from my mother and a cooler, slightly less hospitable climate.  Here in South Carolina, they are considered invasive, and this weekend I realized why:  I found at least 12 nandinas (at least a 1' or more tall) scattered around my garden - in shade, in sun - it didn't seem to care where it's seeds landed.  I think I do need to remove them from my garden (and the spiderwort) - although plants associated with my mom are difficult to part with, since our family is still negotiating these first months without her. 

My brother and father have been in town this weekend - the first time we have all been together since my mother passed away.  My mother's absence was the proverbial elephant in the room, except this elephant seemed as large as a small moon circulating a much larger planet.  On Friday evening we went out to dinner - and we almost made it through the meal before the first tears were shed, when my father glanced at the 4th (empty) chair at our table, and said that she should be there.  The emptiness of that chair screamed at us throughout our meal - wood-grilled burgers, marinated fish - and silent screams.  It is hard not to reflect on grief, and how each of us are manuevering this new experience in our own way, struggling in our way, trying to be strong in our own way.  I've been told, and have watched - families torn apart by grief.  We are having our own struggles, as we try to figure out this new world with one less moon revolving around our lives - all orbits trying not to collide, but doing so, nonetheless.

~~~~~

My brother helped me for most of Saturday and early Sunday on some 'projects' in my garden in preparation for the demolition of my home.  An issue that we often have in the south is just one of simple biomass overload - in otherwords, if we get rain, things really grow.  And it's an equal opportunity sort of thing -- EVERYTHING grows - the virginia creeper, the poison ivy - it's craziness.  One thing my brother helped me do - with what he referred to as my 'woman saw' - (honestly now, I love this little chainsaw) - was to prune the lower branches of my southern magnolia and the three bald cypresses.  One can now walk under the trees - and it feels like being in a very small forest, with ~10 years of bald cypress leaf mulch covering the ground.  Being an obsessive planter-of-things, I immediately think 'what can I plant there', but I think I will wait for awhile, and just enjoy the shady open space that the removal of these branches has created.  (And yes, that is my brother, using my 'woman saw' and even, on ocassion, getting up on my 'woman ladder' to reach a branch or two).  We also got the larger branches mostly cut up into small pieces of wood for my outdoor fireplace - you know, to use on all of those cold nights next winter when the thought of spending the evening in an Airstream seems just a bit too..nutty.

~~~~~

Another big accomplishment of the weekend was transplanting an ~15' crepe myrtle (Lagerstroemia indica 'Queen's Lace') to the side garden.  This tree has been struggling for along while, as it has been out-everything'ed by the heirloom rose, Silver Moon.  The tree was located in front of my current place, and needed to be rescued prior to the demolition.  Hopefully it will make it - I need to mulch it later today, and I'll keep it watered for awhile.  I'm optimistic.  It is probably out there, as I type this, celebrating that it is out in the open, in full sun and free of that insane rose.  A former neighbor across the street, Lara, used to say that the myrtle needs to be 'free', and I swear she was about to start a 'free the myrtle campaign' just before she moved.  Of course I've emailed her to let her know that the myrtle is indeed free. 

~~~~~

Another accomplishment:  my beautiful Climbing Cecile Brunner - pruned back last November to about 8-10' - was finally transplanted from the front of my home to the side garden, next to a trellis anchoring  Mermaid to this hemisphere.  My plan is to use wood from the deck pilings to make another large trellis for this newly transplanted climber - which should work perfectly.  I have two smaller, abused roses - that have suffered from the increased shade over the past few years because of the southern magnolia and the bald cypresses - Perle des Jardins (a yellow rose) and Old Blush (a pink rose) - that need to be relocated yet (but their relocation isn't connected to the demolition.  Perhaps I can accomplish this later this afternoon.  Or perhaps I'll sit in the sun, or perhaps the shade - you know, just sit.  I'm feeling a bit tired, and sad - and sitting might be just the thing for me to do.

~links (for me to remember later)~

oakleaf hydrangea, happy I think

~~~~~

A draft of my landscape plan is due to my architect tomorrow. 

Sitting in front of me is a survey map of my place, with a crazy, plant-obsessed plan scribbled on it.  A formal garden in the front right corner (an oval surrounded by live oaks and camellias and hydrangeas and dogwoods and...), a shady front left corner (with bald cypresses, a large southern magnolia, a river birch and lots of shade plants), a working-woman's side left garden ( lots of sun and beds for vegetables and berries and cut flowers and herbs and figs and...), a rear garden with a split personality (part bamboo-garden and part orchard), and a right rear garden with native azaleas and sweetbay and yellow anise and...oh, there's along list of what also could go back there.  And all of these gardens - the left, the right, the rear - connected by a perennial/mixed-perennial border.

~~~~~

Yes, I'll have to quit my job, forgo all other responsibilities - to even possible do this - but deep down I'm thinking in my deranged brain that...hey, it's possible, sure, I can do it.  And...I think I can.  Most of the plants exist already - there's just alot of work to be done.

~~~~~

And regarding LEED and what they care about:  at least 60% of the acre will NOT be turfgrass.

~~~~~

SERPIN (Southeastern Rare Plant Information Network) - South Carolina

South Carolina Native Plant Society (along with their excellent links page)

South Carolina Plant Atlas

Coastal DNR Managed Lands

Woodlanders (Aiken, SC)

~invasives (and my LEED landscape plan)

This morning I've been taking a look at the Invasive Plant Species of South Carolina list - in preparation for the development of my LEED landscape plan (which I started thinking about months ago, but got distracted by other things).  According to LEED, the 'intent' of the landscape plan (SS 2:  Landscaping) is to 'Design landscape features to avoid invasive species and minimize demand for water and synthetic chemicals.'

~~~~~

The prerequisite for this states:  '2.1  No Invasives Plants.  Introduce no invasive plant species into the landscape.'

~~~~~

First thing to notice is that this doesn't mean that non-native plants can't be introduced into the landscape (I think if we were all limited to truly native plants, that would be next to impossible...right?).  The second thing, that I need clarification on at some point, is the use of the word 'introduce'.  I have invasives in my garden - they were there when I bought the place, and many of them are, to put it simply, a part of the place.  So right now I'm going on the premise that I can't introduce any NEW invasives into the garden - but with respect to the ones that are present in the garden as I type this, well - I suppose their fate is up to me.

(Now, I fully realize that the LEED certifier might look at my plan and disagree with my interpretation - but I'll wait for that to happen, if indeed it even does).

~~~~~

So what's invasive in my garden?

~~~~~

You'll have to fight me to take down the chinese tallow trees (Triadica sebifera) on the side fence row.  It's a non-native invasive (from China) - and I've mentioned it often in these pages (...when it's filled with blackbirds, as a virtual blackbird buffet, and as a resting place for the cedar waxwings - oh, and there's those well known pieces of popcorn, and the fall color) - in other words, these trees are a part of the place.

The chinese wisteria (Wisteria sinensis) can go.  I know, I know - when it blooms in the springtime, I forgive it completely for the other eleven and a half months of pure headache.  It has taken over the shady areas underneath my current dwelling, I fight to keep it out of the tea olive and texas mountain laurel - it stretches aggressively into any shady place it can find, putting down roots, taking up residence.  It has won - it has been winning for years - and there is a chance that later today I will take my little battery-powered chain saw and at least cut the main stalk at it's base.  These are not easy things for me to do - it will feel like a betrayal - but I know that I need to do this.  And the slippery slope of plant addiction:  I recently read where someone had their wisteria in a large pot - placed in a central, sunny spot in the garden (it seems to be a bit more manageable in full sun) - trellised, of course.  I think it's worth a try.  (I could regret this.  I most likely will regret this - but I have few regrets, so it shouldn't be a terrible burden to bear.).

Golden bamboo (Phyllostachys aurea).  I won't eradicate it from my garden.  It's in the back left corner - and each spring when it's canes start coming up, I just snap them off when they're small and flexible.  The stands backs up to a tidal creek - so it won't spread in that direction.  I think I can manage it, and I'm willing to put the effort into it.

Yes, there are nandinas (Nandina domestica).  Just a few, but I have noticed them popping up in other locations over the past few years.  I'm not a huge fan of them, but these are sentimental members of my garden:  they are passalong plants from my Mother's Virginia garden.  I'll probably let them go, but I'm not sure yet.

So - then there's chinese privet (Ligustrum sinense) and japanese honeysuckle (Lonicera japonica).  I'll try and get rid of the honeysuckle (but secretly, and somewhat happily, I know that I won't succeed).  The same probably goes for the chinese privet, that are really only in a few areas (along the fence row) - and have you ever seen the beautiful blue berries in the fall? 

~~~~~

(I realize that I'm not thinking clearly here - or even scientifically, truth-be-told.  I am a sentimental gardener.  I know that my ability to manage these plants in my single acre along the Atlantic coast is being approached naively - for example, the berries of the privet travel - they move, and it's silly to think that they only impact my garden.  I do know this.  I'm trying to come to grips with it, develop my own personal invasive species policy - and with time, I imagine that I will do the right thing.  But I do need to think a bit more about this first.).

~~~~~         

 

   

~some rain~

Silver Moon, blooming just beyond the dining room window - and yes, it rained this evening, much wished for, and much enjoyed...rain.

(Other views, less glamorous ones, of this rose can be found here.  Fear this rose.)

~~~~~

Amazingly enough, I met with my architherapist today - and even though I haven't been thinking about my new home, gratefully my architherapist has been, and there are plans - pages of them, with first and second floor views, south-north-east-west views, roof views - structural drawings - and after talking about things for a bit, I looked at him and said 'Wow, does this mean we might actually build this thing?' to which he said...not much, because he knew that I was being silly, perhaps even a bit surprised that life just...moves forward...amidst the chaos and sadness.  Yes, there will be a house.  A new home.  I will move into the Airstream - where I will adapt to using a laundry mat and living in a small space - and yes, all of this will happen.

~~~~~

Life's funny that way, isn't it? 

countertops

Fisher Recycling recycled glass countertop sample (obtained from DwellSmart in Mt Pleasant, SC).

~~~~~

You see, I need to start thinking about things like countertops.

Awhile ago, I became enamored at a Charleston 'home show' with a local product, Vetrostone and Oysterstone.  (The images you see if you go to the links are good ones - but this stuff is much more beautiful 'in person'.)  It was quite expensive too (more than granite if I remember correctly) - but I lost a bit of my enthusiasm when I called to request a sample of both materials, and they took all of my information over the phone so that they could send it to me - but the samples never arrived.  I guess I've become one of those shoppers that you get 'one shot' with - I'm just too busy to have to follow-up on stuff.

~~~~~~

So last Thursday evening I joined a friend for dinner - and I took the sample with me.  We ended up sitting at the bar and eating, while the bartender graciously helped us test the sample - you know, the old soak-the-sample-in-red-wine test - and, as you can tell by the image above (taken today), it passed.  Now maybe I'll squish a few blueberries on it - and try to cut something (with a sharp knife) on it.  You know, test the stuff. 

~~~~~

Using a recycled product for the kitchen counters would be good with respect to the LEED stuff (obviously) - but regardless of all that, I still want the countertops to perform well - and to look nice.  So far I'm pretty impressed by how this material performs - and I was glad to see that the range of colors had increased since I had last looked at the stuff (and I like the incorporation of shells into the matrix).  In the next week or two, my architherapist and I are going to head over to Fisher Recycling and check out the place - and hopefully see larger examples of this material as countertops.  It might be a nice option.         

~insulation, because you care~

It was an interesting day.

Exhausting, but interesting.  It was a day where words were tossed around, words with deep meaning, words that lead one down a road where there is no turning back.

Academic tomfoolery.  Ballyhoo.  Cries of mutiny!

Fortunately, I was able to leave work early - at 3 pm I needed to meet with the prospective HVAC consultant on the house.  Yes, I find it hard to believe too, but my silly little house-on-paper has an HVAC consultant.

~~~~~

This was the first time this guy had come out to 'the site'.  He is pushing - and I mean pushing - geothermal, so a ground source for heating and cooling.  He is also beyond fond of a certain type of insulation, Icynene, which I've got to admit seems too good to be true.  (Can one fall in love, deeply, with insulation?). Here is a bit about the product from the Icynene website:

Icynene^®, the leading soft foam insulation and air barrier system, is becoming the industry standard for providing maximum building envelope performance. Icynene's pour and spray formulations represent a breakthrough in the science of moisture and thermal management.

Icynene^® is the leading 100% water-blown foam insulation that minimizes air leakage for increased energy efficiency, creates a healthier indoor environment, reduces airborne sounds and offers greater design freedom. Icynene^® maintains its performance with no loss of R-value over time. It does not shrink, sag or settle. Icynene^® adheres to most construction materials and is the perfect insulation for walls, attics, ceilings and floors.

Spray Formula
Applied as a liquid, Icynene^® expands to 100 times its volume in seconds to fill every crack and crevice while remaining flexible so that the integrity of the building envelope seal remains intact over time. Icynene's spray formula has an R-value of 3.6 per inch. It acts as a complete insulation and air barrier to minimize air leakage and seal the building envelope for optimal airtightness.

And to help you visualize this whole insulation thing (because by now I'm sure that you are riveted to this fascinating post), here's a video I found over at YouTube showing Icynene being installed (yeah, I know, the guy is wearing a moonsuit):

Now, I'm not advertising for this stuff - but everything that I have read really does suggest it is the way to go.  My HVAC guy says that if you are considering energy efficiency - that this product is probably the #1 thing you can do to help yourself out.  Plus, in our humid climate, it handles moisture better than other products of it's kind.  As is generally the case, it's expensive - quite a bit more than the average insulation.  So - as is the case with everything now - it's weighing the advantages with the cost and the house's overall budget and aesthetic.

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I swear - one day there will be a house.  And it's likely that I will know way more about it than I ever dreamed I would.

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What does all of this really mean?

It means that I was home early, with plenty of light, and had time to wander the garden with the new wild dog and Stan - time to inspect the beds for signs of life, tiny movements, growth - and I found myself spending quite a bit of time staring at the buds of the star magnolia - Magnolia stellata - somehow thinking that if I stared hard enough, and long enough, that perhaps the buds would start to swell, and that perhaps the white petals of the flowers would start to emerge.  Well, as you might have guessed, they didn't.  So I came inside, and baked a cake for my favorite 87 year-old camellia gardener, who I hope to sneak away and visit tomorrow.  But tonight, as cool winds that are blowing across the midwest finally reach us here along the coast -  a gale builds - and behind these winds are warm days.

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There is no mutiny in the garden.  There is never a need there for such foolishness.  I'm glad that the garden is not real life.