18°f/about -8°C, clear, then clouds in the afternoon. High of 54°.
Did you know ow tgat according to old folklore, birds were believed to begin mating on Valentine's Day? We have been hearing birdsong around here again, which is lovely to our ears. Does that mean they're beginning the mating season, or that they are just happy to see lots of seed in the feeders?
At least we are going into a warming trend this week, which is another happy thing. Temps in the 60s? Yes please. Maybe the rest of the ice and snow will finally disappear.
I was listening to the radio this morning as I cleaned silver. The NPR show This Old House was on, and they were discussing the building materials of the future. One of the hosts lost his home in a California wildfire, and he was looking at ideas for rebuilding, on the same spot.
While they visited some of the unique homes being built on the ashes of the old, including one like our Sarah's cabin, built out of steel storage containers, my mind was stuck on one thing: why? Why would you rebuild in what they acknowledged is a "fire zone"? Isn't that the same as building in a flood zone? Even with new, fire-resistant materials, it seems to me to be an exercise in futility. Because if there was another fire, would you want to have to live through your neighborhood burning a second time?
One of the materials discussed was a type of super-laminated wood called CLT. Google AI says "CLT chars on the outside during a fire, creating a protective insulating layer that prevents the inner wood from burning. These structures are durable, sustainable, and capable of withstanding intense heat." Okay, but going back to a home charred on the outside? Wouldn't be my cup of tea.
It was an interesting show, delving into pre-fab houses and the difficulties of meeting thousands of different building codes across the country. I was impressed with the forward thinkers of the industry, striving hard to make housing affordable and quickly built. By the time the show was over, the pile of silver in front of me was polished. I looked around at my 50-year-old house, which would probably go up like tinder in a fire, and wondered, would I rebuild here if it burned? And if I did, what kind of house would I want?
When our next door neighbors' house burned, they bought a modular house, and put it back in the same place as their old home. (At least we are not in a fire or flood zone!) Perhaps we humans, like the wild things, want to go back to the same nest/den/cave where we have always found security and comfort.
