The Lay of the Land: Mapping & Sketching

The Lay of the Land: Mapping & Sketching

Research, even when I think I know how to do what I want to do, always leads to some neat tricks applicable to and easing the work involved on a project.  Two textbooks on mapping and cartography, and a book on how to create hand drawn maps helped me think about ways to map that which might influence Juniper Field Cabin's orientation and floorplan.

I traced this plat onto a sheet of paper, each square representing 10 square feet. Tracing paper overlays created each month illustrated the path of sun, wind, and critters.

Capturing the location of gopher holes,

and adding a nature journal page of information

Photo by Steven David Johnson (steverinojohnson@mac.com)

Holes, up to a foot across, and hidden by tall grass threatened to knock me off my feet and sprain an ankle. Naturalists and farmers all suspected groundhogs, and though I have yet to see one, the hole design and grass patterns around them matched field guides and online research on the critters. I determined them to be the least of my concerns, but did remember where they were for ankles' sakes--mine and visitors.

The engineer surveying the land for the septic system saw the first deer track in December snow. Soon we found matted grass beds, scat, and tracks wandering back and forth across the east edge of the "high place." If I could have my way, my front porch would face that run--not the roadway. Doing so would require some sort of landscaping or signage to make it clear that the front door is on a far corner, perpendicular to the road. I am blessed that my friends will love me anyway, and find their way.

My grocery shopper (severe allergies do not allow me to enter a grocery store) was the first to see a praying mantis case in a juniper just 6-10 feet from what will be the planned kitchen and bedroom.  We eventually counted 25 cases. The juniper would need to stay. Zane, my contractor, said the cabin's staked out footprint came too close to the east edge of the ridge.

"But you can move the footprint a foot without losing the tree. And their root system and diameter are small; it won't endanger the house."

My soon-to-be neighbor warned me, "It gets really windy up here. The siding on my house didn't have enough fasteners." Even in the bowl of Singers Glen, I had come to know The Phantom all too well. In winter she roars north to south, freezing everything in her path. She even rattles thick energy-efficient windows. I jump and spill my coffee when I hear "shotguns"--only to remember it is The Phantom knocking walnuts from trees onto metal roofs. Those roofs clang and clatter as the wind bounces across. I aim the bedroom corner of the house toward the north, determined that The Phantom will not slam into the broad side of the 26x26 foot cabin. The decision to align the house crookedly triggers my OCD (diagnosed!) but minimizing The Phantom's fury seems more important than a compass-aligned house.

Preferring that the bedroom be the coldest place in the house is an additional reason to make that The Phantom's charge point. Putting my clothes closet in that corner should insulate a bit, too.

For now the 2d bedroom will serve as study and art studio, and guest space. That room can be repurposed as a caregiver's personal space, should (when?) that day come.

On to the floor plan, many decisions already made. I drew a grid on my art board, and hand copied the floor plan. After measuring everything that would come along with me, I penciled in potential spaces for each item. Key in my thinking: my grocery shopper should be able to easily bring in and put away groceries, so a pantry, fridge, and freezer are placed near the front door. That decision determined the placement of the remaining kitchen items.

The layout work complete, the next step will be making it work.