The BLOCK Project – Permanent Tiny Homes in Seattle

I volunteer at two housing non profits in Seattle, Sound Foundations NW, which is focused on temporary emergency housing, and Facing Homelessness’s BLOCK Project homes, focused on sustainable permanent housing.

I’m a Team Lead / Lead Volunteer in both organizations, and I love being able to contribute something meaningful back to the community. This post is going to cover the amazing work that Facing Homelessness do, with the generous help of volunteer hosts in Seattle.

How does the BLOCK Project work?

The BLOCK Project builds permanent housing as an Accessory Dwelling Unit (ADU, aka “granny flat”) in a willing host’s backyard. The BLOCK project builds and pays for the ADU, including permitting and setting up utilities; they are also responsible for maintaining the home throughout its lifetime.

After the BLOCK home is built, Facing Homelessness reach out to vetted agencies to connect the host with a new tenant experiencing homelessness. The home owners are integral to this process and become part of a support network for the new tenant, which also includes case management and regular contact from Facing Homelessness for maintenance and check ins. The BLOCK home project has a 95% success rate of tenants remaining in permanent housing.

Each home costs $75k in material and site costs, which is significantly cheaper than the next-cheapest permanent housing option, at $300k.

The New York Times recently profiled the homes and the organization. I helped to build the house pictured in that article, and we’re also constructing that same house in this video.

What are the homes like?

The BLOCK homes are sustainable, fully contained tiny-home sized dwellings measuring 8’ x 16’ ft (or 2.4m x 4.8m, a total area of 130 sq feet / 12 sq metres) with a kitchen, bathroom and living area, plus an additional deck and storage room outside. They’re built for a single occupant and designed small, to fit into as many backyards as possible.

BLOCK homes are connected to the electricity grid and water utilities, but also have solar panels (net zero!) and rainwater collection. They are built with highly sustainable materials including Juniper – an invasive wood in the Pacific Northwest – for decking and siding, and they use sheep’s wool for insulation. The windows are triple-paned and European-style tilt-opened for insulation and temperature regulation. Facing Homelessness recently achieved Living Building Challenge certification for the BLOCK homes, which is the greenest and most sustainable certification possible.

In addition to all of their sustainable features, the BLOCK homes are just beautiful to look at. The Juniper wood siding has lots of stunning character, and everything is stained rather than painted. Each home installation includes hardscaping and landscaping, a stone patio and a beautiful garden of native plants. This is block home 15 nearing the end of its assembly phase.

How are they built?

The homes are built in two phases: the first is constructing prefabricated panels in a factory, and the second is prepping the site and assembling the house. That includes prep for electrical and water utilities, moving all the prefab panels to site, assembling the home together, and landscaping.

Both phases are heavily reliant on volunteers; there are only two (!) paid construction managers at Facing Homelessness who are often managing multiple jobs, such as coordinating volunteers, prepping tilt up days, conducting home inspections and repairs, and managing the factory.

The assembly is described as “IKEA on steroids” and is often done by groups of volunteers with no construction experience. The instruction guides for each panel are full of helpful diagrams. Volunteers are guided by a Lead Volunteer who trains them on various tools (e.g. nail guns, screw guns, domino) and checks for quality control. The panels are built on jigs, or templates, which allows each group to create identical wall, floor, ceiling, deck or siding panels that will later be assembled on site. The houses are reasonably complex; there are dozens of different jigs used in the factory, and there’s a set of booklets to describe how each panel is built and how it all fits together onsite.

My experience volunteering with the BLOCK Project (and how you can volunteer!)

I really like volunteering at the BLOCK Project because it shows how complex a house is to build, with so many moving parts that all need to be precise. They’ve somehow made it straightfoward for people with no experience to build meaningful parts of a house, which is impressive when the house needs electrical systems, plumbing, ventilation, insulation, fixtures, and forms a tight, weatherproof envelope.

I’m currently a Lead Volunteer at the BLOCK Project and I help to guide groups of volunteers through building on the jigs. A lot of people are new to construction when they volunteer, and it’s fun for them to see a wall or section being built. We get volunteers to sign their name on the inside of a panel when they’ve finished building it.

I also spend extra time weekly with additional Factory/Shop support – helping to clean, reorganize, build new shelving, sort & catalogue materials, and random maintenance.

There’s a cyclic nature to the BLOCK home; there will be periods of a few months where the factory in Georgetown is active building all of the home components, then other times where the focus is on a new housing site, in prep or assembly. If you’re in the Seattle area, you can sign up for volunteer slots on their website.

I love the community-minded drive behind the BLOCK Project, and I’m fascinated with the potential to construct lots of permanent housing in an area where housing is expensive and scarce. I am eager to see where Facing Homelessness and the BLOCK Project go from here.

My Ode to Twitter

One thousand, nine hundred and seventy tweets.

That’s my entire tweet history, fourteen years of my digital life (I guess more like the first seven, until I stopped tweeting around 2016).

That tiny number doesn’t really convey what Twitter meant to me: the relationships it created, and the opportunities I received. If I were to write all those words in a single story, I don’t think they’d have had the same impact. The power was in snippets of conversation over time.  

I joined in 2009, when I got my first smartphone. It was kind of exhilarating to be able to send your thoughts into the wild and see someone respond in real time – especially random people you’d never met (this was an era before major trolling). My circles of friends would banter publicly. I began to attend a lot of tech conferences, and I’d tweet my thoughts & reactions while I was there. The asynchronous and flat nature of Twitter was great for this – I wasn’t the kind of person to immediately speak up (hello, minority person in tech!) but I could still join the conversation. The limit of 140 characters forced me to be succinct and thoughtful at the same time. I loved that the bar was low; you didn’t have to write an essay.

Twitter was my community. I joked with my colleagues while sitting next to them. I found an amazing and supportive community of other female engineers. I didn’t realise how much I was missing that support, or what a difference it would make to my confidence.

Twitter was my expanded CV. My tech tweets connected me to authors, speakers, and prospective employers. I linked to my projects, my talks, my podcasts; I could retweet others’ praise or feedback to validate my perspective. That track record was enough to open doors later in my career – people offered me jobs, invited me to conferences, asked me to connect them to people, or wanted to discuss collaborations. A lot of that faded as I stopped tweeting, and eventually moved to Amazon in Seattle, but it was hugely meaningful to me at the time.

Twitter was my tech library. Links to great resources, blogs to engineering culture, and particularly other phenomenal women in tech, or stories about how they were being failed and ignored. I curated a collection of those articles as a reference to give to others, when the inevitable “why aren’t there more women in tech?” question came up.

Twitter was a curated stream of consciousness; a place to share things too good to be kept to myself. Some stunning pictures of places I’d visited, or a particularly delicious cake. A one liner that I knew would make a specific person laugh when they read it. A place to explain my weird Australian perspective on British or American things.

I feel a surprising pang thinking about Twitter going away, even though I don’t actively post on it today. There is more than a decade of me catalogued – a lot of my professional growth, and serendipitous connections. Even now, I can’t get some of that back. People have deleted their own tweet histories – I acknowledge that going back 10+ years is a long time to preserve – but also, Twitter, after being horrendously gutted in the last few months, seems on a slow slide towards the garbage heap.

I hope that Twitter survives, but if it doesn’t, I want to acknowledge what it’s meant to me. Thanks for everything.

Six Months in Seattle

Edit: I found this in my drafts folder after six years (!) I did some minor edits, but it’s otherwise a snapshot of our lives in mid-March, 2017, and it made me laugh as well as brought up a bunch of nostalgia.

Yes, I can’t believe it’s been six months already!

There’s a lot to process when you move countries. Even simple things, like going to the supermarket (“grocery store”) and getting some takeaway food (“takeout”) can be a challenge, because you have no point of reference on what’s good or bad, or even the correct terms to communicate (“they use the word entree for the main meal?!”)

If you’re Australian, and you’ve thought about moving to Seattle for Amazon, you’ve probably run into Diary of a Pampered Housewife. If not, she’s written an awesome guide to Aussies relocating to Seattle and if you’re thinking about moving here, you should go read it.

Weather

There’s no getting around it: Seattle is pretty grey. It doesn’t rain all the time, but the clouds have been here since October. Also, they (whoever “they” are) told us it doesn’t rain very heavily, so you can get away with not needing an umbrella. They were lying.

People tend to walk around with waterproof shells – think North Face, Marmot, Columbia, etc – to keep the water out. This works to a point, but if you’re trying to protect a laptop on your back, you need an umbrella or rain cover for your bag, too.

Waterproof shoes are also a key to success. Somehow, you can tackle anything when your feet are dry. We became friends with REI.

I own an ultra light down coat from Uniqlo that squashes down to nothing. I love it, it’s vaguely water resistant, and it keeps me warm through anything from -5 to 15 degrees (that’s 22 to 59 in foreign-speak) using additional layers when it’s below 5.  I supplement it with a Columbia rain jacket or an umbrella when it’s really heavy.

When it’s raining solidly for a whole month, like what happened in October 2016, even an umbrella and wellingtons won’t save you.

Fashion

The outdoors and the rain make Seattle a very casual place, which suits me and my capsule-like wardrobe just fine. I have ditched all shoes that have heels on them. I have four “active” pairs of shoes, a far cry from the 50+ pairs I used to own ten years ago.

Trail shoes are pretty normal around the office. A lot of restaurants and bars are super casual. I don’t feel weird carrying my backpack around. I’ve refactored my handbag (“purse”) into pockets on my jacket, plus my phone with credit cards. I no longer have that annoying problem when you switch handbags to suit an outfit and forget to transfer everything over.

Money

US dollars aren’t very accessible, in the making-it-easy-to-use-for-everyone sense. Every note is the same size, and the same colour. I get confused carrying a wad of monotonous green notes around, so I solve the problem by not using any at all. Everything goes on my card.

On the one hand, I love it because I don’t have to carry any physical money around. On the other hand, America is so far backward that I can’t believe I’m even going to type this out. We pay for our rent by cheque. Yes, you read that correctly. Cheques, in 2017. But at least I don’t have to write it out every month, because our “internet banking” service automatically writes the physical cheque for you and physically mails it to the person you want to pay.

…I know, right?

Also, unlike most modern economies, you can’t transfer random amounts of money to other people’s bank accounts, so people start using third party services. I guess you win some, lose some.

Outdoors

If you like the outdoors, Seattle is a great place to be. It’s surrounded by mountains, which are nice to hike on in summer, and all that rain gets converted into a lovely dusting of snow for winter.

We can drive to several snow fields that are 1-2 hours away, and have done so multiple times since December. Since we’re so close to snow, it opens up a lot more possibilities for snow activities besides just downhill sports. We’ve been snowboarding, cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, and just plain hiking on snow. It’s all beautiful.

In Autumn, the trees start changing colour, the air is crisp, and it’s fresh. I like that I can get to this less than an hour from my house. In Sydney, after an hour of driving, I’m probably still somewhere on Parramatta Road.

The latitude of Seattle means that it gets more sunlight than London does, so standing in the sunlight in February actually feels warm. And it’s further west in its time zone, so in February it’s still light at 6pm. There’s a lot you can do with that.

We’ve been told the summer here is amazing – reliable dry, clear weather. Can’t wait 🙂

Transport

When we moved here, I had very firm visions of continuing to catch public transport. I’d embraced the habit in London, and we lived near a train line in Sydney. I hate driving, and I hate traffic, so public transport is a win-win. Seattle is also a liberal city as US cities go, so I figured the transport would be reasonable.

However, Seattle doesn’t have a lot of different types of public transport. Most of the city relies on buses. There is one rail line, but it doesn’t go near to work. Unfortunately, buses get affected by road traffic, so timetables are a bit fictional. The buses are also crowded. It’s not uncommon to watch a bus or two pass your stop in the evening. Anytime between 4:45pm and 6:30pm is a royal pain to get home.

After one month of constant rain (the wettest October on record), followed by the coldest December on record, we capitulated. We started driving our car to work.

Food

The pacific northwest has a reputation for some good local produce. It’s around, but compared to the quality of food you can get in Sydney, it’s just not the same. You will, in fact, be disappointed if you randomly stop in somewhere. We’ve found food to be very salty and very “blunt”, for lack of a better word. There’s usually one overwhelming flavour profile – e.g. sweet or smoky – and a lack of any other dimension.

I miss being able to stop into a random cafe in Sydney and trust I’d get a decent meal. We’ve spent a lot more time cooking food ourselves, and researching any restaurants before we drop in.

Culture

It’s a small-big city, which means you get all the amenities of a city, but the perks of less crowds. Parking is easy. Getting tickets or going to restaurants is generally easy. There’s space to breathe.

If you’re a nerdy introvert, Seattle is pretty awesome. There’s a big board game culture, including game cafes which let you play games for free. Since I’ve passed the stage of getting trashed on a Saturday night, the games are fun. And cheaper than alcohol, and open until 11pm on a Saturday night. I love it!

The city has a reputation for the Seattle Freeze. I am unsure if it’s an American thing in comparison (i.e. Americans are overwhelmingly open and chatty people by default, so the relative introvert-ness of Seattle is confronting) but we haven’t found it particularly freeze-like, but we hang around with a lot of foreigners, since Amazon is full of them. We do, however, notice the distinct lack of swearing at work. Also, people don’t really do drinks or much after-work socialising. Drinks are over in an hour (only an hour?!). We’re also not sure if this is an American thing, or an Amazon thing. More research to come.

Miscellaneous

The amount of junk mail here is ridiculous. There’s some kind of weird scenario where the US postal service is an enabler of junk mail, because it’s one of their main sources of income. It’s incredibly screwed up.

Americans are also big subscribers of things. People are always asking if you’ve joined their club, so they can send you a 0.1% discount and a message on your birthday every year, in exchange for mining your purchasing history and selling your data to broker. Thanks, but I’m good.

Donating money to an organisation means you’re suddenly on their email and physical junk mail lists, with no way to opt out (yes, I am looking at you Planned Parenthood – way to say thanks). It’s made me think twice about who to give my money/data to in future.

My love of travel (and London)

For a blog that is supposed to be about coding, cake and travel, there has been zero talk of travel so far. Mostly because it’s hard to distill something so complex and meaningful to me down to a series of words. 

I love travelling because you experience new things. You decide when you want that experience, and how much you’re comfortable spending on it, which means that a destination that’s two hours away by car can be just as meaningful as somewhere halfway across the world. New people, new foods, new vistas, new neighbourhoods and new languages present a different life that someone else gets the chance to live – and you could have it too. Change is good. 

I love travelling because it helps you realise your true personality by challenging you. When you’re dropped in the middle of a foreign city, you don’t speak the language, you’re lost, and you’re trying desperately to do something before a deadline, it’s amazing to realise how resourceful you can be, and how you handle stressful situations.

I love travelling because it’s freeing. There’s no schedule, except for how much you choose to put on there – whether it’s 14 hours of sightseeing, soaking up a neighbourhood by living local, or taking six months out to explore at your own pace. Nobody knows you, so nobody has any expectations of how you behave. You’re free to do whatever you’d like to, whenever you’d like to. 

Travel gave me my second home.

I visited London on a trip in my early twenties, and fell in love with it. 

One year later, I decided to move halfway across the world and settled there. It was the best decision of my life. I loved the culture, people, buildings, history, transport system, and the variety and pace of life, and I let it all soak in to my skin.

Most importantly, living in such close proximity to so many different countries in Europe was an amazing opportunity for someone who grew up in Australia. Every long weekend in the British calendar was eagerly planned in advance – will it be France, Iceland or Norway this time? Hiking, sightseeing, or wine country? No matter the destination, everything seemed just two hours away, and so easy to do straight after work on a Friday evening.

I gorged myself silly on it, visiting around 20 countries while I lived there, and some – like France – over a dozen times in an 8 year period. I’d kick off spring in Munich, cycling through gardens, drinking steins and eating giant pretzels. Then head to Croatia in summer, cruising from island to stunning island, devouring gelato and lazing in the sunshine. Then Switzerland in autumn, hiking through the riot of foliage colours and breathing in the crisp air. Winter would be France, boarding down a mountain of snow. 

I loved all of it, but I also enjoyed just being in London – the cozy pubs, delicious cheeses, Georgian houses and self-deprecating humour. And of course, the queuing. Living there was one giant, extended holiday where I grew up and learned things. 

Travel gave me a chance to learn who I am. 

I’ve taken three life breaks from my career to go travelling, without knowing when I would settle down and start working again. They add up to over two years of my life, and were completely worth it. 

Those breaks have shaped my existence. They’ve given me time to think about what’s important to me, and to take steps to make sure I can pursue them. They’ve let me experience things that enrich me as a person, and make me eager to come back and learn more.

I realise that I like learning things – whether astronomy, technology, experimenting with startups, or how to make giant food. I know how few possessions I actually need, since I’ve managed out of a suitcase for 6 months. I know that beautiful landscapes rejuvenate me more than the bustle of a new city. And I am grateful for the fact that I can afford to travel, both with money and time. 

Travel has given me some fantastic memories.

There’s an incredible list of things I’ve had the opportunity to do in the past ten years: driving over giant salt plains in Bolivia, visiting art galleries in Italy, tasting wine in Argentina, exploring Iceland with a car and a paper map, swimming with sea turtles in the Galapagos, gorging on pastries in France, staying in tree houses in Laos, sleeping under the desert stars in Jordan, hiking around glaciers in Chile, racing a dog-sled in Sweden, hiking the Inca Trail in Peru, exploring the amazing temples of Angkor Wat in Cambodia, photographing the wilderness of Scotland, partying until dawn in Barcelona, partying (slightly differently) in Amersterdam, marvelling at the opulence of the Moscow Metro, cooking up a storm in Vietnam, riding camels in Egypt, snowboarding powder in Japan, jumping around the USA like a kid in a candy store, and soaking up everything I possibly could in my surrogate hometown of London. 

Moving overseas was the best thing I’ve ever done. It made me realise that anything you want to do is possible, if you decide to do it. It also made me realise how adaptable human beings are, and that generally things will work out okay if you are flexible and recognise opportunities when they appear. And you’ll have loads of fun in the meantime. 

I found the draft of this post on my laptop, a year after I started it. I finished it on various planes and trains zipping around Europe, which I thought was apt. I miss you, London. x

lambda ladies

I’m really excited to be able to attend Lambda Ladies in Brisbane, March 17-19.  It’s a free 3 day workshop run by Red Hat, using Haskell to cover a (re)introduction to functional programming. The last time I looked at functional programming after university was probably when F# came out.

I’m looking forward to a chunk of time looking at functional programming from a professional’s point of view, and not as a confused first year uni student!