Snow Screed...Or, How To Float A Big Fluffy Slab

Screed: noun \ˈskrēd\ 1) A lengthy discourse (e.g., personal account, or rant); 2) A leveling device drawn over freshly poured concrete [Source: Merriam-Webster]. A screeded concrete surface is usually finished with a float. For this article (which itself is a screed), snow is the metaphorical concrete, the North wind is the screed, and the float is, well, ... an actual float.

January 26^th-27^th brought us yet another intense winter storm. In our area, the storm dropped about 14"of snow – not quite as much as we'd received two weeks ago. But the total snow accumulation for the month of January was about 52", setting a record for the snowiest January here since 1965. And cold temperatures ensured the older snow stayed around, so accumulations both on the ground and on the tops of structures were quite deep.This caused numerous collapsing roofs here in Connecticut, and many folks are making efforts right now to remove roof-top snow.

In a previous post, I'd written how my home faces north-west, the same direction (more or less) that winter storms tend to blow from in this area. My main roof has a 10" pitch and presents a large profile to the wind, causing lots of snow to blow over the ridge and get deposited on the rear and mud room roofs. Furthermore, the front of the house blocks wind at lower levels, often causing a large build-up of snow on the entry porch roof and in the front yard. So I wasn't totally surprised to see this after the storm:




Needless to say, I'm glad I sistered the columns with 2x6 Ts before the winter. They're not in the greatest shape these days, but I hadn't had time to properly replace them in the fall. The mud room roof also had much snow, and my first priority was to get both porches cleared, which I can safely do with a shop broom from overlooking windows. But what really worried me was the cumulative snow on the back main roof:




Furthermore, the current forecast calls for more snow next week, or possibly even rain. So I really wanted to remove as much of it as possible. I needed something like a roof rake, but with about a 40' extension. I'm not sure roof rakes actually come that long, but it really didn't matter, as no one around here actually stocks roof rakes, and supplies weren't expected until sometime the following week.

But it turned out I had something easily adaptable: A four foot magnesium concrete float and several sections of aluminum shaft that screw together. I ran out to Home Depot and bought a few more sections so I could get the total length I needed. A bit pricey, yes, but I was determined to get this all done as quickly as possible:




First thing I had to do was remove the attachment point from the float, re-orient it 90 degrees, and bolt it back on:




Then, I angled the attachment point at about to about 45 degrees, and screwed one of the aluminum sections on:



My reasoning was that this would enable the float to ride up over the surface of the snow on the up-stroke, and then anchor into the snow on the down-stroke, thus breaking chunks of snow free. I collected everything together, and then headed out to the back of the house:

Not long after, my good friend and nextdoor neighbor Gary Farrell came over to see what I was up to (I think he probably realizes by now that I'm a little crazy). Gary grew up in the Hawkins house, which his family had owned since about 1853, and he had been the steward of the place for a good many years until I bought the house from him in 2007:




While Gary watched with some curiosity, I made my first attempt to get the float up and anchored in the snow just above the eaves. Only two shaft sections were attached. It wasn't quite as easy to do as I initially thought it would be. Once I got it in place, I attached a third section:



It took six sections to get the float just beyond the ridge line, at which point, the float tilted a bit, requiring me to push it a bit higher and spin the shaft to straighten it:




Meanwhile, Gary went back to clearing his side porch roof. I was a little leery watching him up there, hoping the porch roof was strong enough to support his weight and all that snow. I offered him to try out my experimental method, but he seemed quite content to continue with what he was doing (like I said, he knows I'm crazy -- everybody does :-) :




But soon enough, I cut my first swath of snow with the float. I found that shimmying the float would easily dig it in, and then a slight up and down undulation loosened the snow and released a small slough:




Once I had cut the first swath, I drove the float upwards again and attempted the next one (you can see how some portions of the first few sloughs settled on the mud room roof):



Then, I momentarily anchored the float up on the ridge, and took a minute to rest (and snapped this photo, too, of course), while the float waited patiently:




Next, I worked the float over a few feet and began cutting the next swath:




Controlling the float was tricky and took quite a bit of practice. Sometimes, the float would want to veer off to one side, and I'd have to move quickly across the ground (not easy with a lot of deep snow underfoot) and get back under it to make it stop:




In general, the more surface snow removed, the more challenging the float became to control, as it would want to slide across the exposed lower slab, which was hard-packed and icy:




Another point of difficulty was the need to occasionally add or remove a section or two of shaft, depending on how high the snow was where I was standing, versus where I was trying to get the float positioned on the roof:




In this case, another pair of hands was indispensable, and Gary provided me quite a bit of help in getting the job done (in addition to taking some good action pics):




Toward the end of the afternoon, I managed to remove most of the upper layers of snow from the roof. In the photo below, I only needed to clear a bit more snow from the vicinity of the main stack vent, which was effectively buried. But I stayed well clear of the rake line, given the float's tendency to slide sideways:




Needless to say, there was a lot of new snow on the mud room roof. I went back inside and removed it from the safety of the windows. Only I needed a shovel in addition to the shop broom, because this fine, sloughed-off snow had set-up hard (in fact, exactly in the same manner that slough sets up like concrete after an avalanche in the mountains). There was also a lot of displaced snow all around the perimeter of the mudroom and house, which now needed to be removed:




But at least it wasn't on the roof any more, and I had no further concerns about additional precipitation during the coming week.


Some Important Points on Safety and Property Damage

Despite my relative success with this project, I don't necessarily advise my readers to attempt the same. There are a number of risks associated with undertakings such as this one, and although I was able to eliminate or minimize the major ones, this might not always be possible in another person's situation. The major risks include, but are not limited to:

• Potential for electrocution. Aluminum is an excellent conductor of electricity. Sending a long aluminum shaft aloft while standing in wet snow could be a very dangerous thing to do in the presence of overhead wires (e.g., power company service drop, or feeder to an out-building), or any other sources of electric power. In my case, there were no electrical wires nearby, and my service drop is clear on the opposite side of the house. Had it not been, or had I needed to clear snow from the front roof, I would've requested the power company to shut my power off first, and not resume service until I told them I had completed my work. Otherwise, I never would've attempted this. On the other hand, there are several outdoor light fixtures just beneath the eaves where I was working, but I de-energized their circuits beforehand. Note that a roof rake with a wood, plastic, or fiberglass shaft is arguably safer, but still shouldn't be used in the vicinity of live wires, or any other electrical sources or fixtures. Remember: That shaft is going to have a continuous stream of water dripping down its length, and on to your hands and body.

• Damage and/or injury from falling snow. Even though these falling sloughs were relatively small, we were surprised by the impact they made hitting the ground. There should be no bystanders (especially small children) or easily damaged property, in the fall zone. Furthermore, if conditions are right -- fresh snow, or fresh snow over a consolidated, older layer of snow, and a very steep roof – you have the potential for triggering a small avalanche, in which more snow than you're expecting can suddenly free itself from the roof. The reason why I used so many extensions, in fact, was to deliberately distance myself as far as possible from the falling sloughs.

• Damage and/or injury from the shaft/float. As I mentioned earlier, the float was difficult to control, and had a tendency to slide sideways, as the extended shaft is not very rigid. Again, no one should be in the fall zone, nor at either end of the house. There is also a potential for the butt end of the shaft to hit you in the face or body, if not properly controlled. Finally, rain gutters and nearby windows are also at risk for damage.

• Damage to roof shingles. It would be easy to tear or knock off more than a few shingles doing this. In my case, I had good reason to believe there was at least one hard, base layer of snow covering the shingles, and took care not to penetrate it.

• Build-up on other structures. As one reader pointed out in a comment, care should be taken to avoid too much snow building up on the roofs of smaller, attached or nearby structures. Be mindful of where the cleared snow is going and what it ends up resting on.

• Physical injury. I found this work required far more physical exertion than shovelling heavy snow from a side walk. I wouldn't recommend it to any one who wasn't in exceptional shape.

The bottom line here is: If you're concerned about the quantity of snow on your roof, please hire a licensed and insured contractor to remove it!

Postscript [8 February 2011]

Since writing this article, it's become apparent to me that I could make the float less damaging to the shingles by attaching door weather stripping, or a section of foam pipe insulation, to the bottom edge.

Winter Solstice and Eclipsed Full Cold Moon

A full lunar eclipse on a winter's night. From the Bilder-Atlas der Sternenwelt, ca. 1888 [Image source: Wikipedia Commons]

If you haven't heard about it already, this evening (Monday, December 20th) and the wee hours of tomorrow morning will collectively play host to an interesting convergence of three astronomical phenomenon: The winter solstice, the Full Cold Moon of December, and a total lunar eclipse.

The winter solstice (literally, "sun stop") marks that point in time when the sun's apparent southerly traversal along the horizon halts before it reverses direction. This winter, the solstice takes place on Tuesday, December 21st, at 6:38 PM EST -- not actually at the same time as the eclipse, but on the same day, nonetheless.

Tonight (Monday, December 20th), the moon rises just before dusk, at 3:39 PM EST, and the initial (partial, or penumbral) stages of the eclipse begin around 1:32 AM EST on Tuesday morning. The eclipse will then begin to enter its stage of totality around 2:40 AM EST, with complete totality being achieved around 3:17 AM EST. Truly inconvenient for us easterners, but hopefully a little more agreeable timing for those of us closer to the west coast!

Finally, the moon officially becomes full at 3:13 AM EST on Tuesday morning, a mere 4 minutes before complete totality occurs. This particular full moon is known as the Full Cold Moon, a name that goes back to early Native American tribes of the northeast. In fact, each full moon of the year has a traditional name, generally descriptive of the season, and often related to planting or the conditions of the food supply at the time; for example, Full Harvest, Full Snow (or Full Hunger), Full Sturgeon, Full Buck, and Full Hunter, to name a few. An full listing and description of all the full moon names can be found at Farmer's Almanac.

Also, the National Geographic Society has published this excellent article on tonight's eclipse. Apparently, the last time this happened was back in 1638!

So, hopefully, skies will be clear, and temperatures not too inhospitable, for good viewing in your neck of the woods. Get yourself a flask of hot cider and some warm clothes, and get out there and enjoy the view!

Celestial Dramatis Personæ for the Upcoming Week

Those of you who enjoy observing the heavens should find the upcoming week (starting Monday, September 20th, 2010) particularly interesting, as a number of significant astronomical phenomena will be taking place. Furthermore, these events will be converging on several, traditionally important calendar days.

Jupiter has been especially brilliant during the evening hours all this past year. In my own area, it currently rises around 7PM EDT (just at dusk), and by about 10PM is easily seen as the brightest "star" above the eastern horizon. On September 20th, Jupiter will make its closest approach to earth in its current trajectory -- the closest it's been, in fact, in almost fifty years.

And, together with the planet Uranus, Jupiter will be at opposition to the sun on the 21st. The two planets will then be in conjunction on the 22nd, the autumnal equinox -- the first day of fall, and traditionally the celebration day of the harvest, or "Harvest Home". You can watch both planets parade across the sky together on these evenings, although you will most likely need binoculars or a telescope to view Uranus.

The next evening, September 23rd, will mark the Jewish holiday of Sukkoth, and feature the Full Harvest Moon in conjunction with Jupiter. Also, Venus, which, as of late, has been quite bright, but very low on the western horizon, just after sunset, will achieve its greatest brilliance that evening.

Finally, on the following week, September 29th will mark the feast of Saint Michael, one of the four "Quarter Days" of the early Christian calendar that was considered to more or less coincide with earlier, Celtic celebrations of the autumnal equinox.

Epilogue

It's interesting to note that Jupiter's close approach to earth in 2010 coincides with the Quadricentennial of Galileo's discovery of the moons of Jupiter in 1610, a concrete, scientific observation he was ultimately forced to disavow on threat of being burned at the stake by church authorities. It's also personally interesting to me that Galileo died in January of 1642, a mere three months before the birth of Joseph Hawkins. Makes me feel that these events of the distant past were perhaps not really all that long ago, after all.

If you'd like to read further about these forthcoming astronomical events or find rise/set times for your area, visit the Old Farmer's Almanac's Astronomy page. You can also follow the almanac on twitter: @almanac. If I manage to get any photos of these events, I'll post them here.


(Galileo's signature)

Early Spring Images

Well, it was still snowing up until about two weeks, but now, early signs of spring are appearing everywhere. The lilies have already begun sending their chlorophyllic solar panels skyward:



As have the multicolored crocuses:



On the other hand, my local neighborhood decorating consultant has apparently had a change in taste regarding the sort of window bottles I should be using this year in my home, replacing the sophisticated worldliness of Sutter Home White Zinfandel with the somewhat smokier, earthier appeal of Southern Comfort (see the past article Miscreants Decorated My Home, if you find yourself in the dark on this one):



It's a shame that these bottles are made of plastic. Otherwise, they actually might've worked out quite well alongside the Sutter Home bottles.

Over the course of the past three days, the spring weather turned particularly foul, as an intense Nor'easter bombarded southern New England and the greater New York Metropolitan areas, with huge amounts of rain and winds gusting upwards of about seventy miles an hour. Fortunately, Derby and the rest of the Naugatuck Valley were spared much of the damage that befell many points farther west of us.

Today was the first nice day in many days, with lots of sunshine and temperatures in the mid-sixties. I spent the late afternoon at the New Haven Rowing Club, and managed to take this nice photo of the Housatonic River from the boathouse, just as the sun was beginning to sink beneath the trees on the opposite shore:



The water was relatively flat, but moving quite quickly, and with lots of swirling eddies, as they were bleeding water from the Stevenson Dam this afternoon, just about a mile upstream. The next photo shows the view facing toward the downstream end of the dock:



All in all, not a bad way to end a gorgeous day -- enjoying the last rays of the warm sun, with a coffee in hand.

Conjunction of Moon and Jupiter

Conjunction of the moon and Jupiter, August 7th, 2009, at 12:10AM EDT

There was a spectacular conjunction of the moon and Jupiter this evening. I managed to catch the above photo by laying prone on the sidewalk, using the sidewalk surface to steady my camera, with the exposure setting adjusted for night time / no flash, and using the timer and holding my breath to prevent the camera from shaking (my tripod just wasn't handy tonight).


Another photo of the celestial pair, peeking through a cloud-roughed sky. You can see Jupiter just on the tip of a wispy peninsula of cloud.

Jupiter has been plainly visible for many months now, usually fully risen by about 10:30PM EDT. It's the brightest "star" in the sky, and is easily spotted above the Eastern horizon in the early part of the evening. Hope you manage to catch it some night!

Miscellany Of Weeks Past

Spring is in full bloom here in Southern Connecticut, and I've been dividing my time between numerous projects here at the Hawkins house. Unfortunately, that hasn't left much time for worthwhile writing, but I feel long over-due to post something, so here's some photos taken over the past couple of weeks and accompanying commentary. And I'll try to publish a more purposeful and coherent posting or two during the next few days. In the meantime, hope you enjoy the few random snippets here...

This is my garden armillary sundial, which is quite nice. You'll notice, though, that it's gnomon is missing both it's arrow head and tail. About two seasons ago, this sundial took an unfortunate fall from a garden wall, breaking both pieces off. Fixing it is no big deal -- just a matter of cutting two appropriately sized pieces of 1/4" brass rod, threading each end, and screwing it all back together. But it's one of those bothersome small tasks that just doesn't manage to get scheduled. The sundial is going to be the centerpiece of my forthcoming colonial herb garden at the house, so maybe that will provide me enough incentive to finally fix it. Maybe.



Since my location is 41 degrees N. latitude, I used a protractor to angle the gnomon at precisely 41 degrees. The gnomon needs to point true North and align with the earth's axis for the sundial to work properly. Not too imprecise a measurement, eh?



The future site of the hypothetical colonial herb garden. This part of the yard gets nearly constant sun through out the day. The garden will be situated on the opposite side of the path, just this side of the decorative grass, and replacing the patch of crab grass in the foreground. It will be bordered by 4 x 4 cedar posts, and feature two small foot paths through the center, emanating from the sundial:



Close-up of the decorative maiden grass in the side yard, and all the grape hyacinth and lilies that appear in the early spring. This photo was taken a good number of weeks ago. The hyacinth and lilies are actually gone now, and have been replaced by these white perennials that I cannot readily identify. It's an interesting dance that takes place here every springtime. Yet another (small) project of mine is to complete the encirclement of the grassy patch with a large assortment of perennials, so there's always something interesting going on through out the entire spring, summer, and early fall:



The early springtime ritual of planting annuals in hanging baskets is shown in the next few photos. This year, we planted red and yellow marigolds, yellow pansies, and some dark purple flower whose name eludes me at the current moment. I was going for somewhat contrasting colors this year, just for kicks. (Oh yeah, there's a couple of herbs there, too; rosemary and basil):



Hanging baskets in various stages of completion. The mums I had planted last fall survived the winter and are growing like crazing now (all green -- no flower buds for a while yet). So I will have them to re-display in the fall time:



A completed large basket:



Two of the larger baskets deployed on the entry porch. Since this photo was taken, I've also installed two candle lanterns on each of the front posts supporting the roof:



Newly planted herbs and tomatoes, respectively, in wooden containers on, or in the vicinity of, my front porch. These plants are patiently waiting for me to finish digging the potagers and herb garden, of course, and are demonstrating their enthusiasm by growing bigger, and bigger, and bigger, and...



This photo shows stone remnants of an ancient terraced garden that is mostly buried by earth and covered by various growth out behind the house. There are a number of interesting, random plants still thriving out there, including some roses and rasberry bushes, not to mention lots of poison ivy! One of my big summer projects is to resurrect this garden, but there's just so little time. We'll see how far I get. If I can get even the basic garden unearthed and well-defined, I would be satisfied with it for this season:



This buckboard table graces the other end of my mudroom. Can you believe that some one in my neighborhood had left this out curb-side to be taken away with the trash? I was driving by one rainy night in my pickup truck and noticed it's outline in the street light (I know, it sounds like a sad story of hyperbolic abandonment, doesn't it? But it's true!) I stopped, threw it in the back of my truck, and it's been a fine friend and fellow traveler ever since:



Lavendar and chives (container herbs) are flowering right now (I took this photo just yesterday). They are likewise awaiting their move to the big hypothetical herb garden in the side yard, with armillary sundial, cedar borders, and well-defined paths. We'll see...



And what posting of outdoor activities would be complete without some mention of the various animal friends who like to drop by on occasion and try to figure out what manner of weirdness I am currently occupying my time with?

Here, one of the neighborhood cats came visiting out behind the house, and hung out for a while by the old overturned wheel barrow and deteriorating saw-buck:



And here, one of those ubiquitous crows was gingerly walking down the drive way, inspecting things (perhaps keeping an eye out for the cat). I was actually amazed how far he trotted along on foot before finally flying up into the trees. I took this photo from the window of my study, through the old glass -- hence the noticeable blur just in front of the crow. The old stone wall in the background is an ancient remnant of the cow farm that once existed here, up until about fifty years ago.



There are many interesting trees in bloom right now, including dogwood, lilac, red maple, and various pines, plus many other annuals and flowering shrubs. Almost exactly one year ago, I created a posting with photos of many of these blooms. If you're interested in viewing further, you can see that posting by clicking here.

Crocuses in Connecticut

Spring has definitely sprung here in Connecticut. I discovered several crocuses (croci?) in my yard the other day. They are identical in coloration to a crocus photographed by my blogging friend Shelley in Michigan, and posted here.

It was cold and raining all day yesterday and they remained closed (interesting, how they manage to protect themselves):



However, today was very sunny, and the two crocuses were opened:



The crocuses are right on the edge of what had once been a terraced garden in my back yard, that has long been covered over with earth and growth. This spring, I will be excavating and revitalizing this garden. There is also a nice apple tree growing right in the center that I'll prune and get into good shape, so we'll have plenty of edible apples come Fall.

Two Tramps in Mud Time

These two characters appeared on my roof the other afternoon while I was out in the yard pursuing my timber-shaping activities. They made quite a racket. At one point, both of them were leaning forward and cawing in rapid succession, in unison, like two over-zealous spectators at a football game.



Given the axe in my hands, it reminded me of a line from a poem of the same name as this posting, by Robert Frost: "Out of the mud two strangers came and caught me splitting wood in the yard, And one of them put me off my aim by hailing cheerily 'Hit them hard!'"

For some reason, there is a rather large number of crows around here that seem to just love my yard. They congregate here frequently on summer afternoons, often in pairs, some times even in threes. Often, they land on my roof, and I can hear the tap tap tap as they perch on the rain gutter just above the window of my study.

Here are two more photos I took last fall. The first is of a crow perched in my dogwood tree. You can't tell from the photo, but it was a very blustery afternoon, and he was riding up and down with the wind, until he finally decided to fly elsewhere. In the second photo, another crow is pacing the front yard:





There have been many interesting crow sightings here. Unfortunately, they are usually gone, though, by the time I manage to get my camera. I also make it a point not to leave anything small and valuable (like my camera) unattended in the yard, lest one of these little thieves should decide to pinch it.