Shanty Musings

First allow me to address the fact that I am typing this as I sit isolated in the "shanty." Since my laptop battery died last summer, I have been reluctant to attempt any computer activities out here, as such activities now mean hoisting & hauling extension cords into position. While this is not itself an entirely time-consuming activity, it does act as a sort of buzz kill for the spur of the moment initiatives I previously quenched with a spontaneous jaunt out to the shanty.

I write to you now to update you on my current book, A Place of My Own. I've only made it through the first chapter and a handful of pages of the second chapter, but I can assure you, it's a good read. Maybe more so for me, as I have also created a place of my own. In fact, as I was reading this book moments ago out in the sun, it got me pumped to head out to the shanty. And that brings me to here typing this.

And I just realized I am able to pick up the internet out here - this wasn't so last summer, which may actually have been a good thing, since it's a sort of solitude out here.

Anyway, this second chapter describes site selection - a process often overlooked in American development, but so critical and crucial to a building's inception. As I think about my current residence, it was vastly under-contemplated, regarding sun orientation. Its only apparent orientation is to the street. I've often regretted the layout of our house, with regard to daylighting and glare.

At PhilaU, it always seemed such a simple concept, orient your building to coalesce with the sun's arc... yet some folks always seemed to fight the sun, purposely defying its existence. While in the real world, as I can now attribute over a year's worth of experience, neither is the case. Developers aren't interested in coalescing with or defying the sun. They just want to cram a load of stuff into a small space with a hefty price tag. How did we come to think this way, as humans? Valuing short term price over long term value?

I feel as though I have become distracted from my original idea for this entry... which was perhaps just to note that I am enjoying my book and I reaffirm its recommendation to readers elsewhere.

Cormy, you may even find some personal delight in it, especially after your 50-some "hideouts."