Topping out

The carpenter tells of a tradition where one of the highest rafters is left at its uncut length. If the client doesn’t pay for a round of drinks at the end of the job then the carpenter leaves the site, with the offending timber still left protruding. In other words, sort it out yourself before the roofer turns up. The mason has an equivalent anecdote involving a heap of concrete strategically left to harden on the threshold.

So with a pre-emptive strike, The Client and The Architect have opted for a barbecue and a topping out ceremony.

The far less conflict inducing topping out formula, as understood by The Architect, involves a branch of oak being tied to the topmost timber. The ‘bad spirits’ are chased, by all the noise and raucousness of the celebration, up through the house taking ultimate refuge in the branch. At the end of the ceremony the branch is taken down and burnt leaving the house free of bad vibes.

Problem is, finding an oak tree in a suburban neighbourhood. People aren’t stupid. They don’t plant oak trees in small gardens. So a visit to the local park is in order. Unfortunately the only specimen to be found has been severely pruned leaving the lowest branches unattainable at 5metres above ground level. Notwithstanding the risk of finding himself spending the night in a police cell for tree molesting, the chances of succeeding in persuading the park groundsman to help out with a ladder on the basis of a desperate need of oak for a pagan druid ceremony seemed so very slim that The Architect didn’t even bother.

Meanwhile The Portuguese Neighbour had undertaken to prepare the food for the evening. Panic had set in and with less than an hour to go he was still cooking. An ambitious ‘pièce montée’ in the shape of the 'Maison Camy' was resisting all attempts to stick on the roof with caramel glue. Jam render and crystallised sugar pebble dash were applied to the roof successfully hiding a large gaping crack in the biscuit pastry structure. In the midst of this culinary construction site, The Architect explained his quest for oak only to be told authoritatively that identical results could be achieved with a branch of laurel – apparently the tree of choice for such matters in Portugal. Saved. The wisely chosen Portuguese theme had come to the rescue.

Fearing unknown negative spell effects from a badly identified tree shrub or bush (oak’s an easy one) The Architect opted for the joker and placed a call to The Landscape Architect who obligingly returned home to prune a bunch from her garden.

Later that evening, everyone, and especially The Skater, took great delight in pointing out to The Architect the presence of a 12 foot high laurel at the bottom of the 'Maison Camy' garden – curiously the only plant on site to survive The Builders blitzkrieg style demolition.

Shame on The Architect.

All went well – food included:

• Vinho Verde
• acras de morue
• barbecued marinated sardines
• Pork ribs
• Lupin seeds
• Olives
• Various cakes including a Maison Camy shaped choux pastry gateaux

  

  

The neighbours and builders and family and friends succeeded in raising the noise level needed.
The Maison Camy is now well and truly celebrated.

Le charpentier raconte la tradition de laisser un des bois de charpente du faîtage en dépassement du volume de la toiture. Si, à la fin de l’intervention du charpentier, le maître d’ouvrage n’as pas encore payé à boire aux ouvriers il quitte le chantier sans tailler le bois aux mesures de la maison. Le maçon à son tour, pour les mêmes motifs de soif, prévoit un tas de béton sur le seuil de la maison.

Nous avons opté pour une solution moins conflictuelle. Une branche de laurier est accrochée au point le plus haut de la charpente. Les mauvais esprits en fuyant le bruit des célébrations vers le haut de la maison se trouvent piégés dans la branche. A la fin des célébrations la branche est brûlée n’assurant que des bonnes vibrations au lieu.

Un grand remerciement aux voisins, amis et constructeurs qui ont participé à l’événement.