Roof framing

Mike pegging in the ridge poll ahead of the first rafters going up

        For the last few weeks we have been working almost every workable hour of every day, rain or shine. Make that the last month. This definitely constitutes "the final push". For that reason, I am sorry to be a few weeks behind on my posts, and I am rewinding somewhat to get caught up to the present moment!

      Framing out the roof has been a challenge to say the least. It has been the union of square, dimensional roof planes and factory milled boards to our curvy, irregular round-wood timber frame. Imagine if you will what would happen if an uptight, orderly banker-type had an arranged marriage to a free-spirited, woodsy folk artist-type. The union would not go smoothly, without a modicum of frustration and struggle, and neither has our roof framing. 

Julia notching wall plates so that rafter birdsmouths will have a seat to rest on

      Mostly, we have had to figure out how to define level and square within our long, curvy wall plate timbers. Typically, in a conventionally framed house, you are working with straight and level 2x6 or 2x4 wall plates that run the perimeter of the walls. The rafters each get a little notch called the "birdsmouth" that keeps it from wanting to slide off the top of the wall plates, and the birdsmouth is notched at exactly the same place on each rafter, screwed or nailed into the wall plate and a perfectly level and consistently pitched roof is achieved. Wah-la. But not so with our  wall plates. Fifty-some individual notches in our timbers at varying depths later, I can say with some certainty that ease of roof framing is not one of the advantages of round-wood timber framing. Perhaps we should have stuck with roundwood rafters and embraced a curvaceous roof line. But since we are putting on a metal roof, we needed something really, really straight. 

Mark and Mike installing the first rafters

     Thankfully, we have had some really great hired help for a few weeks in the form of our friend Mark and his brother Kent, both very skilled builders of a more conventional type. Mike worked the ridge poll, I notched the wall plates, trying to keep ahead of the rafters as they processed down the length of the building, one by one. Kent manned the cutting the station on the ground and Mark up along the wall plate. And somehow, it mostly has worked, with a minimum of undulation along the roof line (nothing a few shims couldn’t take care of anyhow). We got the last of the rafters in just as Mike had to depart early for his early migration east. Thanks to his Dad Sam, who came out to help us for a few days, we also got the last of our pegs in, thus officially completing the timber frame portion of our building. It looks beautiful, for all of the occasional frustration it has caused us. I think I would still choose to build this way, if I had it all to do over again, but, well, let’s hope that’s not anytime soon. 

      At this point, Mark and Kent and I have framed out a finicky little gable dormer in the center of the south roof side, we have our sub-facia and facia boards attached to trimmed rafter tails, and we are preparing for our final week of roof work. I am wearing down stamina-wise and budget-wise at this point, and each day gets a little harder to get through as the temperature drops and working conditions are less than ideal. Far less. What I wouldn’t give for another month of September. But thankfully, my wonderful family is coming in to reinforce me and help me get through the last hurdle—the roof purlins and metal. As my sister Emily said to me on the phone the other day, “don’t worry Jules, the cavalry is coming…. ” An alternative Thanksgiving gathering is in the works, and for that I am most thankful!

Mike pegging braces and jowls into wall plates

Mike's dad Sam came to help us for a few days, here planing down pegs

      So I am preparing all the ingredients here—rigid foam boards (expensive!) oak nailing strips, purlins, tar paper, plenty of fasteners, and oh, the roof metal. The single most expensive purchase of my lifetime so far and I had to pay in cash to a local Amish distributor, thanks to my checkbook run prematurely dry. Imagine the funny interaction between his sweet, polite wife laden with small babes and I, as I nervously passed her a very fat envelope to give to her husband, out hunting or something. Me: “Uh… could you make sure he gets this? It is important.” Her: “Oh yes… (as she checks it)… oh my! Yes, that’ll be fine.” The Amish are a rather understated, even-tempered bunch who rarely demonstrate emotion in word or facial expression so it can be a bit hard to read them sometimes. Still, I think that was Amish for surprise. 

      One final note—thanks to our neighbor Beth, we have been tiny house-sitting for the last few weeks, and thus, staying quite warm and cozy on these freezing nights. Two years ago she was doing her own mad-house-building-marathon as I recall, so it is nice to be reminded that it really does end at some point, with a beautiful and cozy place to call home as a result. Home, sweet home... here we come!