They have discovered that the newly built homes they bought and paid for were never connected to a proper sewer system and never received building approval.
They have now been given 14 days by the local council to sort the matter out or face possible legal action.
The problem began after they purchased the houses.
The builder went bankrupt having just completed a dozen homes. It had been planned to build more than 100 houses and apartments.
What none of the home-owners realised at the time was that a proper sewer system had never been built.
The road to their homes is a no-man's land as it hasn't been finished, with manhole covers sticking far above the surface.
They have no street lighting and the water supply for some homes comes from a neighbour's outside tap.
When the builder went bust, the residents were left with no-one to seek legal redress from. To sort the problem out they also need access to land that is now in the hands of a receiver.
Francie Molloy, Sinn Fein assembly member for the area, said the residents simply could not afford to solve the problem.
"A sewer system and a treatment works are required. It needs a pumping station that costs a lot of money and it's in the ground of the receiver, so it's not actually on the residents' property.
"So they can do absolutely nothing as far as that goes. But the problem is that as the sewerage builds up, it backs up towards their houses and it could create a massive problem for them."
At this stage the residents can't see a way forward. For Joe O'Neill and his family, this was their first home.
"For your first house you have an ideal image of what it would be like, that everything would be OK. Obviously it's not and it's been a nightmare," Mr O'Neill said.
"Who does the buck stop with and who is going to solve this problem? That is the big question."
Custom kitchen designer Gail Drury, CMKBD, answered that question with an emphatic yes. Winning first place in the large kitchenand large bath categories, two very different design visions come together to compliment this Burr Ridge, Illinois home's architecture.
White cabinets surround a walnut-stained island, balancing simple lines with rich details. An intricate tile design incorporates a mix of stainless steel tiles, marble tiles and metal liner strips for a stunning result.
Challenged to fit a myriad of appliances and upgrade storage while staying within the existing kitchen's footprint, intelligent design solutions define the space. A furniture-like island divides the kitchen space from the living area for a better traffic flow. A Lutron lighting system conceals all electrical outlets.
Creating a calming retreat with a luxurious, spa-type feeling was the main objective for the master bath design.
2012年1月16日星期一
2012年1月9日星期一
History Mystery: Badger Brass illuminated bicycles and autos
Last week's History Mystery question: What was the main product made at the Badger Brass Manufacturing Co. Inc. located in Kenosha around the turn of the 20th century?
Answer: The product was a Solar Bicycle Lamp, and there are a few collectors in the area who have these babies.
The lamps were initially manufactured at the Badger Brass Manufacturing Co., which was founded in 1898 by four businessmen, Charles N. Frost, George A. Yule, Richard Welles and E.L. Williams.
The factory was located initially on the corner of Elizabeth Street (63rd Street) and Pleasant Street (18th Avenue), but a new plant was built one block west on Lyman Avenue (20th Avenue) in 1905.
The product that started out lighting the way for bicycles did the same for motorized vehicles.
The factory employed 200 people in 1917 and boasted annual sales near the $1 million mark with an annual production of 100,000 cycle/bicycle and 400,000 auto lamps.
The Solar Lamps were known all over the world. They were adopted as standard equipment of the Cycle Division of the Dutch Army.
The lamps were standard on at least two automobiles — the Lancia, made in Turin, Italy, and the Berliet, made in Lyons, France.
Shipments of lamps were also sent to England, Russia, Norway, Sweden, Spain, Portugal, India, Australia, New Zealand, Cuba and the West Indies.
Throw out your conceptions of today's sun-powered solar lamps, as they were named Solar only because of the equivalent brightness of the light they shed.
Antique collector John Davison of Bristol has a couple of these lamps, and one has been in his family for about almost 100 years.
Based on the same concept as a miner's lamp, pieces of carbide are spaced in the lower compartment of the lamp. The small tank at the back is filled with water and the flow is regulated, drop by drop, by a key valve on the side of the lamp.
When the water hits the carbide, acetylene gas is formed and is forced into the upper camber burner.
The front glass is mounted on a hinged frame, so you can open up the chamber to light it. A flick of a match to the burner and ... Bumph!
The light produced is extremely bright (picture the flame of a cutting torch), and the front glass is actually a magnifying lens, increasing the power of the lamp.
Answer: The product was a Solar Bicycle Lamp, and there are a few collectors in the area who have these babies.
The lamps were initially manufactured at the Badger Brass Manufacturing Co., which was founded in 1898 by four businessmen, Charles N. Frost, George A. Yule, Richard Welles and E.L. Williams.
The factory was located initially on the corner of Elizabeth Street (63rd Street) and Pleasant Street (18th Avenue), but a new plant was built one block west on Lyman Avenue (20th Avenue) in 1905.
The product that started out lighting the way for bicycles did the same for motorized vehicles.
The factory employed 200 people in 1917 and boasted annual sales near the $1 million mark with an annual production of 100,000 cycle/bicycle and 400,000 auto lamps.
The Solar Lamps were known all over the world. They were adopted as standard equipment of the Cycle Division of the Dutch Army.
The lamps were standard on at least two automobiles — the Lancia, made in Turin, Italy, and the Berliet, made in Lyons, France.
Shipments of lamps were also sent to England, Russia, Norway, Sweden, Spain, Portugal, India, Australia, New Zealand, Cuba and the West Indies.
Throw out your conceptions of today's sun-powered solar lamps, as they were named Solar only because of the equivalent brightness of the light they shed.
Antique collector John Davison of Bristol has a couple of these lamps, and one has been in his family for about almost 100 years.
Based on the same concept as a miner's lamp, pieces of carbide are spaced in the lower compartment of the lamp. The small tank at the back is filled with water and the flow is regulated, drop by drop, by a key valve on the side of the lamp.
When the water hits the carbide, acetylene gas is formed and is forced into the upper camber burner.
The front glass is mounted on a hinged frame, so you can open up the chamber to light it. A flick of a match to the burner and ... Bumph!
The light produced is extremely bright (picture the flame of a cutting torch), and the front glass is actually a magnifying lens, increasing the power of the lamp.
2011年9月30日星期五
Melted glass transformed into art
Drawn-glass beads have been called Indo-Pacific beads by archeologists who believe they may have been the single most widely traded item in history, unearthed at various sites from the Pacific islands to Zimbabwe.
Ania Kyte, vice-president of the Mission Arts Council and owner of Turtle Beads, is one such artisan who melts rods of glass into the beautiful strings of translucent beads with impressive precision.
Ania, who has been working with beads for 12 years, is also the president of Pacific Pyros, a group of beadmaking artisans whose collective crafts will be on display at the Fraser Valley Bead Show.
She says these sorts of shows are critical for educating the public about the quality of the handmade pieces. It was at a similar show in Seattle in 2001 she saw a woman creating her own beads. Ania was already assembling glass beads for jewelry, but never dreamed she could do it herself.
"I was mesmerized. I watched her for an hour," she says from her studio just off Stave Lake Road, not far from the district's city hall where she used to work as the mayor's assistant.
When she returned from Seattle, she found a bead artisan, Barrie Edwards, who was teaching a three-hour class in Aldergrove. She was immediately hooked.
At first, Ania started with basic tools and a propane torch, practicing six or seven hours a day after work until 2 a.m. trying to get the beads perfect.
"It's like anything else. Practice, practice, patience and then more practice."
The basics of beadmaking involves coloured glass rods which are heated in an intense 760 C flame until they can be melted on a thin stick called a mandrel. As the glass drips on the mandrel, the artisan turns it slowly to find the centre of gravity in the glob and keep the shape round.
Using other glass rods, the artisan can then make shapes, patterns and designs that either melt into the bead or become colourful floral patterns.
Once the glass is cools, the mandrel can be removed and a diamond dremel polishes the hollow interior to allow for the string and assembly of the necklace.
The finished product is artistic and unique, but Ania hesitates to call it art.
"I think of myself as an artisan, not as an artist — yet."
That's because she says what she makes is ultimately functional in both structure and appearance.
Ania Kyte, vice-president of the Mission Arts Council and owner of Turtle Beads, is one such artisan who melts rods of glass into the beautiful strings of translucent beads with impressive precision.
Ania, who has been working with beads for 12 years, is also the president of Pacific Pyros, a group of beadmaking artisans whose collective crafts will be on display at the Fraser Valley Bead Show.
She says these sorts of shows are critical for educating the public about the quality of the handmade pieces. It was at a similar show in Seattle in 2001 she saw a woman creating her own beads. Ania was already assembling glass beads for jewelry, but never dreamed she could do it herself.
"I was mesmerized. I watched her for an hour," she says from her studio just off Stave Lake Road, not far from the district's city hall where she used to work as the mayor's assistant.
When she returned from Seattle, she found a bead artisan, Barrie Edwards, who was teaching a three-hour class in Aldergrove. She was immediately hooked.
At first, Ania started with basic tools and a propane torch, practicing six or seven hours a day after work until 2 a.m. trying to get the beads perfect.
"It's like anything else. Practice, practice, patience and then more practice."
The basics of beadmaking involves coloured glass rods which are heated in an intense 760 C flame until they can be melted on a thin stick called a mandrel. As the glass drips on the mandrel, the artisan turns it slowly to find the centre of gravity in the glob and keep the shape round.
Using other glass rods, the artisan can then make shapes, patterns and designs that either melt into the bead or become colourful floral patterns.
Once the glass is cools, the mandrel can be removed and a diamond dremel polishes the hollow interior to allow for the string and assembly of the necklace.
The finished product is artistic and unique, but Ania hesitates to call it art.
"I think of myself as an artisan, not as an artist — yet."
That's because she says what she makes is ultimately functional in both structure and appearance.
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