The cost of one square inch

Every day, we are working towards a “better built box”– Not unlike a really good cooler...a rugged, highly insulated box that easily sheds the elements and protects all the goodies inside.

Twenty-two years is my tenure in Whatcom County. A common theme in my conversations with my fellow transplants is our love of this unique climate. Rarely is it too hot; dreary sometimes, but no requirement to shovel the rain. I occasionally miss the snow, but not endless months of the stuff.

What I never fully appreciated until recently was how diverse this climate is, even between relatively close destinations. I spent my first twenty years in Sudden Valley and Geneva, where calm reigns supreme, and elevation was the critical factor in an occasional snowfall.

In 2019 we left behind our mini rainforest in favor of open space in the middle of what I’m now fully understanding as the “Fraser River Cannon.” Our recent cold snap was a blustery reminder of this climate diversity.

What I am also fully understanding is the importance of the outer layer of our homes. I dutifully roamed my home that first cold night, packing scraps of rags into the gaps where my sliding windows sit in their tracks. The same bitter wind that was throwing pieces of my yard at my neighbor was also finding its way into my house between the panes of my windows.

At one window, it is a small area —maybe an inch by half-inch gap, on each side of the window. One square inch of draftiness in over two-thousand square inches of window area. Minuscule. Until we multiply that by fifteen windows. Suddenly my little drafty window is equivalent to a hole the size of an index card constantly allowing that brutal northeast wind to steal my comfort. How many other index- card-sized holes of air have uninvited access? I want to be the one deciding when fresh air fills my house!

Daves Window.jpg

These considerations we put into our homes are important. Even the minor decisions. Especially the minor decisions. Understanding the impact of something so seemingly insignificant is vital. This high-performance approach to design and construction is different than what you will find with other companies. I know that it differs greatly from my previous design experiences. At A1 we are always in the mode of improvement; every project we build is better than the last.

It’s why we test our projects for air tightness.

It’s why we wrap our homes tightly and control the air and the vapor we allow in and out. We use products that reduce or eliminate the potential for infiltration. We call these products “control layers” for good reason – they are meant to give us– A1 and you – control over when and where air flows.

It’s why we look at the entire performance of a wall — including windows and doors — and not just how much insulation we stuff in the walls. The R-value of our assemblies are compromised if we leave index card holes for air.

It’s why we promote exterior insulation behind your outer layer of siding, reducing the transfer of heat from a process called thermal bridging. It’s like wrapping your house in a sweater; an extra layer makes us that much more comfortable — without turning up the heat.

Sweater.jpg

It’s also why we keep learning. And sometimes, embarrassment is the cost of entry. Here’s where it gets awkward: this drafty window debacle I just described isn’t a historical renovation where I’m saving hundred-year old windows. I can count on one hand the age of this house that I designed to perform well. It does check most of the boxes, but I made a decision about budget allocation, and now I’m cold. There were so many other places where I could have saved enough cash to buy better windows.

 We only improve by learning from our mistakes, and it reminds us to take everything into consideration as we design and build our structures.

Dave Kangas, Coop Member/Owner, Certified Aging in Place Specialist and Registered with the American Institute of Building Designers.

Dave Kangas