Pour it in

After the insulation was finished (horrah!) the next step was pouring a 1.5 inch layer of concrete flooring onto the main floor. We did this to help provide sound insulation between the suite and us, and the garage and us. Stef was understandably nervous -- you can't really watch the concrete going down, as there are few vantage points to watch from, and if it winds up bumpy or slanted then it's a nightmare. But all went well -- apparently it's smooth as a baby's bottom, and a lot more level than one.

Sound insulation is an interesting thing. The concrete, apparently, is excellent at damping out air-transmitted noise (like music or voices), but does nothing to stop footfalls from resonating through our floor down into the suite below. On the garage side of the house, this isn't important: we only want to stop the noise of drilling, sawing and pounding in the workshop from wafting upwards into my office. No one cares if the sound of me typing / throwing my computer to the floor in frustration (or more likely little Freya throwing her toys about) penetrates into the 'quiet sanctum' (ha ha) of the garage. On the suite side, however, though we are now protected from noise by them (unless they dance on their ceiling), they are not yet protected from noise by us. Stef plans to suspend their ceiling on little metal brackets that apparently helps to deal with this. We don't want to be too too precious about our tenants, but from experience we know that sound transmission can be the thing that drives away otherwise-perfectly-good paying customers.

Spray it on

As of 5 April, the insulation team has arrived and started to spray insulating foam into the walls. Stef is very pleased; it makes the whole house seem more solid, he says. The spray insulation is more expensive than the old-fashioned batting type, but it doesn't hold water (in case of leaks), won't let through bugs, helps to hold the whole house together, and, surprise, is a better insulator. We're having that in all the outside walls (not the garage), and batting in the attic and garage etc.

Aloha babymoon

It has become tradition for couples to take a 'babymoon' -- one last romantic holiday for two before the baby arrives. So we went to Oahu for 10 blissful days of sun, surf and snorkling, from 20-30 March. Here's me immitating a beached whale:



We stayed in Kailua, a laid-back town of locals without highrises or hotels or beachside cocktails, where Obama apparently spends his holidays. We stayed in a cute little place called D&D's B&B, just a 5 minute walk from Kailua's beach and park (a steal at $75/night). The water was actually cool (bizarrely, it had hailed in Oahu the week before we got there), and the weather too windy for paragliding. But that didn't stop us from getting around and getting a tan.



We saw a macadamia nut farm (Stef is adept at breaking open nuts, as well as at eating free samples), hiked up the hill in Lanakai, the rugged Olomana '3 peaks' hike/rock climb (I only did the first peak, Stef did the second, and we skipped the third, for a 3-hour humid return trip), and the muddy Maunawili falls. We kayaked out from Kailua to Mokolua Island on a wavy day (it was very entertaining watching novices try to land without tipping into the surf), snorkled at Hanauma Bay (which is much less impressive than it used to be, back when they let tourists feed the fish! Now it's far less colourful and popluated by reef fish) and off Electric beach on the west coast (the best spot for snorkling by far -- fish are attracted to the warm water outflow pipe, which has become an artificial reef), swam with dolphins from Ko Olina resort (expensive at $120 each but worth it), and generally mooched about the beach, shops, and highways of Oahu. A highlight for Stef was Bookends, a new and used book shop in the heart of Kailua (every restaurant seemed to be locatable in terms of 'steps from Bookends'), where he found a book he'd been looking for for 10 years!

Now it's back to the grindstone... more literally for stef than for me.

Pregnancy highlights from the trip:
Freya is kicking like a boxer now, the little fighter! Sleeping became a real pain, with hip ache waking me every few hours and getting me up at the crack of dawn. But by the end of the holiday that had much improved. Long flights with a big belly are not comfy -- those seats are a pain in the back, literally. Otherwise, Freya caused no problems and enjoyed her time in the sun.

Engineer's stamp

On Wednesday the house was inspected by the engineer who approved our plans in the first place; he needs to stamp a document saying it has been built properly, and that no one has drilled through any important supporting beams when putting in the plumbing or electrics. We had a few minor infractions that need fixing (that's normal), by sticking in an extra small beam under a doorway here and there. Mainly this is because the electrician did, actually, drill through important beams (silly). Our framer will do the fixes on Monday. But under the understanding that this will happen, we've got our stamp and approval! Horrah!

To celebrate, we went for a long walk from the house to the lake and back, stopping off at the kiddie skate park (where 8-year-olds are pulling some gnarly tricks; we've decided 'danger' is a dangerous middle name that would put too much peer pressure on a local kid) and the bakery, all in glorious sunshine. A perfect day. Now I'm 5.5 months in to the pregnancy, however, such a long walk (well, about an hour) is quite trying... I basically fell asleep as soon as we got home. I'm also having difficulty putting on socks. Other than that, though, all is well.

Now the local building inspector will come in and look at it on Tuesday to give his thumbs up (apparently this is basically guarenteed once you have the plumbing and engineering approved). Next stop: insulation.

Proof of the plumbing

The house (and Stef) have taken and passed their first test: checking that the plumbing doesn't leak. We got an A+! Well, they don't actually give you a grade, but everything checked out so I'm going to give them an honorary gold star.

Stef has put in all the pipes himself: black pipes to get the water up from the hole in the ground, and blue ones to carry cold water, and red ones for hot from the not-yet-installed hot water tanks (really, they're actually colour coded, which is one of those very-clever-and-very-simple ideas that someone should get a prize for). Oh, actually Stef tells me we actually have quite a few red pipes carrying cold water because Rona had a sale on red pipe... ha!

To test it, they stick some sort of valve at the bottom and then fill the whole house of pipes up with water, then let it sit for a few hours and check for leaks. Simple. Apparently the first junction that Stef tested did, in fact, have a leak... but he says it's a bit he was planning on re-doing anyway (I don't know why... I'm not privy to all the details). This made him somewhat, well, anxious. But the rest went well and, as I say, he passed with flying colours.

So now the rest of the house gets inspected, and then someone will come and spray the walls full of insulation. We're really getting somewhere now!

It's a girl!

The results from our 19 week scan say that monkey is a girl. All our friends tell us this is 'easier' than a boy, at least up to toddledom. But the first thing Stef said was "I'll have to buy a shotgun". So he's looking forward to teenagehood already.

We have a name picked out already. If you hate it, please feel free to keep that to yourself.

Freya Kendall Miller

We're very excited to meet her :)

PS - the name has now been 'stress tested' by our neighbour Jerry, who has heard of such classic names as: Wayne King, Chris P. Ness, and the brother-and-sister duo Sam and Ella. He couldn't find anything amusing in ours. If he can't, no one can... (famous last words?)

Monkey's first ski tour

On Saturday, under blue skies, we headed up Cayoosh Creek to take 'monkey' on his/her first ski tour. This is pretty much the easiest skiing you can find near Pemberton. The trail up to the cabin is a gentle incline on a wide trail, and it takes only 1.5 hours or so to ski (or snow shoe) up to the hut. Once there we had our sandwiches and soup, then hiked a couple of hundred metres up a steeper slope to get some nice powder turns in on the way down. At the end of the day, we met two moms carting their less-than-one-year-olds up the hill; they were on skiis, the little ones in front-packs. Me: "You guys get bonus points." Them (not huffing, breaking a sweat, or slowing down): "Gotta train them early."

All in all we were out a little more than 4 hours. Once I got back in the warm car I fell asleep nearly immediately from exhaustion, and was groggy the rest of the afternoon. After a nap and an early night, I woke up at 3am. So now I'm jetlagged. (Ski tour lagged?).

The official doctors' advice on skiing during pregnancy is mixed. My first doctor said it wasn't a good idea after 3 months, in case of falling or injury, and gave me a letter with which I got my ski pass put on credit with the mountain (so I can use the money towards a ski pass a year or two from now, rather than losing the cash). But our more usual doctor, when she returned to her post, said: "Gone are the days when we considered pregnant women as ill or incapacitated. Go for it! After all you better stay fit -- birth is the biggest workout of your life. Just don't get yourself into a situation where you might experience serious trauma. Falling over at slow speed is a-okay." So that's the advice I'm taking. My 'What to expect..." book tells me I shouldn't get my heart rate above 140, so I'm also going slower than usual (though the doctor said this advice, too, was unnecessarily conservative).