Living Small Part 2: The Timber Frame

Timber frames are usually associated with days gone by—they have an aged look about them. Squared timbers connected with intricate joinery held in place by wooden pegs seem to exude the scent of antiquity. They should, because they are. Our most familiar mental images of timber frames come from the centuries old “half timber” buildings still gracing Europe and “Amish barn raisings” where communities hoisted the massive cross-sectional “bents” into position. A timber frame thoughtfully designed and built may well be the consummate blend of form, function, strength, and beauty. From the first time I ever laid eyes on one, I knew I had to build a timber frame.

But, where do you begin? As I recall, the recipe for chicken soup begins: “First, catch a chicken.” Similarly, so it is with timber framing: First, get timbers. If you want to find 8”x8” timbers to turn into posts (vertical timbers) and beams (horizontal timbers), Home Depot doesn’t quite cut the mustard. If you take pleasure doing things yourself, buying a band saw mill is one option. I bought a very basic sawmill; hydraulics do not move the logs—you do. If you decide to follow a similar path, cancel your gym membership; workouts are now free.

Crafting joints that hold beams together is the most cerebral, time-consuming, and challenging task. Large mortise and tenon joints are used to connect 8”x8” primary timbers while dovetail joints connect the smaller 6”x6” floor and ceiling joists. One of a timber frame’s most distinct features is the diagonal braces that provide both strength and symmetrical beauty—Pythagoras and his theory are definitely your friends as you do the math for cutting these joints. It took many months prior to building the foundation to cut our frame. I used a mix of traditional and contemporary tools for this frame—3” wide chisels (slicks) worked alongside electric planers, drills, and saws. Since you do not pick up three-hundred pound square oak timbers and set them on stationary tools, more often than not you bring the tools to the timbers and work from there. Things begin to really make sense once you start assembling the bents. If you think of a timber frame as a skeleton, the bents are the skeletal parts that interconnect to support all the others. They are also the first parts assembled as you prepare for raising the frame.

Raising even a small timber frame such as ours is unforgettable. It is the culmination of hundreds of hours of work. Lifting thousand pound bents into position and hoisting the interconnecting timbers into place produces heart pounding moments of excitement. It also requires help. Six friends from church—and one knuckle boom—assisted in our raising. As the bents are raised, it becomes an ultimate test of your measurements and calculations as the beams are joined. Unfortunately, the remnants of hurricane Ernesto also attended our raising and it rained off and on most of the day. The moisture caused a few of the wood joints to swell and required some last minute paring with the slick to fit properly. Everyone was so motivated that even the intermittent rain didn’t dampen spirits. The first two bents were assembled by noon after which we followed the traditional practice of providing a hearty lunch for the crew.

As the sun set and shadows lengthened, almost 11 hours after we began, the frame was assembled. We covered it with a huge tarp for protection from the rain and breathed a collective sigh of relief and satisfaction. The timber frame now stood upon the stone foundation, just where it belonged. What a day.

“For every house is built by someone, but God is the builder of everything” (Heb. 3:4). This must be one of the most simple, yet profound verses in all of scripture—when you see a house, you know there is a builder; when you see creation, you know there is a Creator. The Hebrews passage develops this thought even further: “But Christ is faithful as the Son over God’s house. And we are his house” (Heb. 3:6). This is one of several metaphoric descriptions in scripture where God’s people are being built into a spiritual house. This imagery is especially poignant if you live in a home built with your own two hands. When I walk through our little timber frame, I can point to a timber and tell you a story. I can point to a wooden peg and tell you another. There is nothing impersonal here. There is even a beam where my own blood was shed. So too it is in God’s house. My blood was shed by accident; His out of love.

Recommended Resource: Ted Benson; Building the Timber Frame House: The Revival of a Forgotten Craft

Living Small Part One: Life on the Rocks

Some of the oldest surviving structures crafted by human hands have been built with stone. Working with stone is both difficult and potentially dangerous. It can also be extremely rewarding—artistically, physically, and even spiritually. Who can resist? Having sold our restored 1860’s era farmhouse, Becky and I were ready to live in a 28’ travel trailer while I built our timber frame home on 12 acres of mountain land. We had debated whether to buy a trailer or repair the existing hunting cabin; in fact, I had recently been doing some ceiling repairs in the cabin where mice had created havoc in the attic. When I pulled down one section of damaged ceiling and the last three feet of a very large black snake came swinging down “Tarzan Style” and struck me in the chest and face, Becky informed me that we were going with the trailer. To answer your unspoken questions, yes, I did ascend into the attic to capture the snake, and no, when climbing into a small enclosed space inhabited by an unknown number of limbless reptiles, it does not help to have a very vivid imagination.

We built the foundation of our small home from native stone since our land was blessed with such an abundance of it. While digging down to the solid rock that serves as the footer we unearthed even more of this natural building material. When working with stones, a good starting point is to sort them by size and shape. Those with flat and parallel sides are particularly good to work with. Small stones are helpful for filling the inevitable spaces between the larger ones. Very few stones from your collection will be too odd or peculiar to work in somewhere. Talk about metaphorical hope for ourselves and the rest of humanity.

After laying out lines for your foundation, it is usually best to build the wall beginning from the corners. The thickness of a load bearing stone wall is determined in part by its height and by the distance between corners or buttresses. In our case, the wall thickness was about 18”. We used a mix of 1:3 Portland cement to masonry sand for our mortar. Stone work becomes cerebrally right-brain oriented as you spend large amounts of time looking for the right rock to fit a particular place. You may even question your sanity as you encounter the same unused rock so often that you subconsciously name it. One of our favorites was “Mr. Spotty.” He eventually fit in perfectly.

 As you build the wall, attempt to stagger the mortar joints so that they do not align vertically; have solid rock above and below mortared joints. This strengthens the wall immeasurably. Depending upon stone size, you typically do not want to go more than three courses of stone high during each session. Recess or strike the joints, clean the excess mortar off stones with a steel bristle brush, and cover the wall with plastic to cure for a few days. Depending upon the humidity, you also need to mist the mortar with water to prevent it from drying too quickly.

Stone walls rock as they begin to take shape.

And stone walls really rock, but don’t roll, when you are finished.

Where can you go in the Scriptures and not encounter rocks or stones? From a small stone slung to slay the raging giant, to the Psalmist crying out “Blessed be the Lord, my rock,” to the craftsman shaping stones into speechless idols, rocks and stones are scattered throughout its pages as if they were a freshly plowed field. It seems that rocks often characterize two extremes: deliverance or destruction. In one of our most beloved parables, Matthew 7:24-27, we find a story of two contrasting house builders—one who builds upon a rock and another who builds upon the sand. It seems that both houses and home owners did well at first—but then came the storm. And the storm revealed who acted wisely and who did not. Many people today wonder why we should place hope in a two thousand year old book filled with ancient stories such as this. Perhaps a good answer to that is found in the very first verse of the parable which states, “Everyone who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock”. Those words haunted me while building our foundation. But then one night, I was standing on our stone foundation and the storm came. Below me our little travel trailer seemed such a contemporary picture of what it means to build on sand. Life is fine as long as there are no storms. But then come the storms. And as the little travel trailer rattled and shook, I stood on the rock of my foundation, and understood.

Recommended Resource: Charles McRaven. Stonework; Techniques and Projects.