Thursday, September 29, 2005
A bunch of stuff I keep forgetting to mention:
Looks like Mabel's exterior will be combo of Pratt & Lambert "powdered nutmeg" and "brick dust." Sounds yummy, huh?! Let's hope it looks so.
Things I've learned lately include the fact that it's dang hard to get a ventilation hood in the wake of a hurricane disaster that takes out much of the South. I was wondering, Why vent hoods? Maybe it's all that fried food.
I also learned that the surprises, by their very nature, will keep on coming. Like when David and I were looking at the sweet bathrooms in Galusha, and I said, "Now what about the shower doors?" And he goes, "What shower doors?"
Meanwhile, the carport rises at Construction HQ. It's taller than I thought it would be, but it also looks good in the space, providing a kind of visual and literal turning point between old and new architecture.
One good surprise is that the concrete finisher's only charging about $650-$700 for staining the first floor of Galusha a shade of "Faded Terracotta." I checked in this morning on the still-wet application, and it looks neat-o.
I'm getting calmer about all the criticism, my last little venting occurring on account of having to deliver all my newsletters Tuesday night in the usual hurry, which gave me chance to wonder at all my complaining neighbors who do nothing else for the neighborhood. Then I get mad at myself for thinking such bitter things. Construction can't end soon enough for all of us.
Speaking of, I'm already strategizing on the sale process and the open houses. First one will be just neighbors, then Galusha goes to market in earnest. I wish I'd kept a sign-in sheet of all the people who've come through for a peek these last months, especially ones who actually seemed interested in a move.
Note new photos. Finally.
Looks like Mabel's exterior will be combo of Pratt & Lambert "powdered nutmeg" and "brick dust." Sounds yummy, huh?! Let's hope it looks so.
Things I've learned lately include the fact that it's dang hard to get a ventilation hood in the wake of a hurricane disaster that takes out much of the South. I was wondering, Why vent hoods? Maybe it's all that fried food.
I also learned that the surprises, by their very nature, will keep on coming. Like when David and I were looking at the sweet bathrooms in Galusha, and I said, "Now what about the shower doors?" And he goes, "What shower doors?"
Meanwhile, the carport rises at Construction HQ. It's taller than I thought it would be, but it also looks good in the space, providing a kind of visual and literal turning point between old and new architecture.
One good surprise is that the concrete finisher's only charging about $650-$700 for staining the first floor of Galusha a shade of "Faded Terracotta." I checked in this morning on the still-wet application, and it looks neat-o.
I'm getting calmer about all the criticism, my last little venting occurring on account of having to deliver all my newsletters Tuesday night in the usual hurry, which gave me chance to wonder at all my complaining neighbors who do nothing else for the neighborhood. Then I get mad at myself for thinking such bitter things. Construction can't end soon enough for all of us.
Speaking of, I'm already strategizing on the sale process and the open houses. First one will be just neighbors, then Galusha goes to market in earnest. I wish I'd kept a sign-in sheet of all the people who've come through for a peek these last months, especially ones who actually seemed interested in a move.
Note new photos. Finally.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
I have so many conflicting emotions these days about the development. Altho I'm in awe of how beautifully the houses are coming together, especially Galusha as it enters the end game of finishes, I keep coming up against a lot of negativity -- however warranted -- from neighbors.
First there was the neighbor who sent the op-ed into the paper, which the letters editor promptly forwarded to me, asking, "Is she talking about your development?" I'll paste it at the end of this post just for kicks, bad grammar and facts and all. It's her sentiment that's of interest.
Then, today, a neighbor in the house to the south came to ride the builder and me about the plan for the concrete driveway between our houses. He said he was ready to up and move and likened buying their bungalow to a "big mistake." It made me sad and frustrated because I've tried to be as upfront, accessible, and sensitive as possible.
Earlier this week I got a complaint for another neighbor about construction noise that started at 5 a.m. that I'm pretty sure wasn't even our project.
So, everyone (including me) is getting nervy over the traffic and the mess overall. It is the last few months of a project that began in earnest about a year ago.
Plus, I'm trying to keep up my optimism for selling! One idea I have lately is try to go FSBO for first few weeks, then list it if I get impatient.
I wonder if there's huge hurdles standing in the way of a final certificate of occupancy.
Here's the op-ed, followed by the architect's response:
"For submission:
"When I voted in favor of retaining the urban growth boundary so many years ago, I understood that meant I was voting against urban sprawl and for condensed living with its eventual companion, more traffic.
"I was okay with that as long as it meant retaining our farmlands and not building strip malls all the way to the coast.
"I also understood that condensed living meant new housing units springing up in our oldest neighborhoods, some in areas of Portland which have oversized lots.
"The influx of condos on the west side of the Willamette is nothing new. What is new is the proliferation of row houses and lofts appearing, as if overnight, on the eastside. Like an invasive weed, condensed living has taken root, on both sides of the river.
"Some long-time homeowners have sold-out or have been gently-persuaded by one means or another, to move out. Oftentimes, the old house is razed and in its place, a trio of houses is built. Developers know, "If you build it, they will come".
"In spite of a weak economy and a dysfunctional tax structure, our region is growing. People continue moving to Oregon.
"I was still okay with condensed living until recently when it spread to my neighborhood, hitting too close to home. Admittedly, I have a NIMBY attitude. This year I witnessed dual units being built two streets away.
"One savvy homeowner who came into a windfall did what any savvy homeowner who comes into a windfall, would do: bought the bungalow next door and proceeded to have plans drawn up for a flag lot with two new units behind the two existing homes.
"From the start, many neighbors were displeased but I tried to refrain from passing judgment. I saw this as one citizen taking advantage of personal circumstances to secure a future nest egg. Isn't that the American way?
"I reminded myself this is the definition of condensed living and I voted for it. I wasn't alarmed; that is, until I saw the design of these new homes: essentially, both boxy with flat tops. Ach!
"In my neighborhood, most houses were constructed in the 1920's. It's easy to see the classic American bungalow-style dominates the area. Even easier to see is that the contemporary architecture of these two new homes is so very out-of-place.
"There oughta be a 'law of aesthetics' which states that new homes/ condos/ lofts or rowhouses constructed in old Portland neighborhoods conform designs to fit within existing surroundings.
"Apparently, the homeowner-turned-developer was not concerned about fitting in. Surrounded by A-frame houses, there now sits two big boxes which resemble a retail complex and stick out like a sore thumb!
"Condensed living is here, whether we like it or not. I'm not so sure anymore."
And here's what the architect said:
"Discourse like ______'s is pernicious and pointless. Its like spitting at somebody in a rain storm. Its a safe, toothless way to express dislike in the absence of the strength required to actually affect change. If she thinks 'There oughta be a 'law of aesthetics' ', then let her pursue the process of implementing a design overlay that will preserve her precious bungalow neighborhood. Until she's ready and able to do anything other than spout her opinion, she can spout all she likes. Anybody other than those stuck with a fundamentalist approach to the evolution of the built environment say your development is refreshing and new. The contrast of old and new makes the fabric of the neighborhood stronger and more interesting. She professes homogeneity. Wouldn't it be great if we all had the same color skin and lived in the same kind of house and went to work in the same kind of building and ate the same food? No.
"Es macht nichts. It means nothing. Red herring."
Amen.
First there was the neighbor who sent the op-ed into the paper, which the letters editor promptly forwarded to me, asking, "Is she talking about your development?" I'll paste it at the end of this post just for kicks, bad grammar and facts and all. It's her sentiment that's of interest.
Then, today, a neighbor in the house to the south came to ride the builder and me about the plan for the concrete driveway between our houses. He said he was ready to up and move and likened buying their bungalow to a "big mistake." It made me sad and frustrated because I've tried to be as upfront, accessible, and sensitive as possible.
Earlier this week I got a complaint for another neighbor about construction noise that started at 5 a.m. that I'm pretty sure wasn't even our project.
So, everyone (including me) is getting nervy over the traffic and the mess overall. It is the last few months of a project that began in earnest about a year ago.
Plus, I'm trying to keep up my optimism for selling! One idea I have lately is try to go FSBO for first few weeks, then list it if I get impatient.
I wonder if there's huge hurdles standing in the way of a final certificate of occupancy.
Here's the op-ed, followed by the architect's response:
"For submission:
"When I voted in favor of retaining the urban growth boundary so many years ago, I understood that meant I was voting against urban sprawl and for condensed living with its eventual companion, more traffic.
"I was okay with that as long as it meant retaining our farmlands and not building strip malls all the way to the coast.
"I also understood that condensed living meant new housing units springing up in our oldest neighborhoods, some in areas of Portland which have oversized lots.
"The influx of condos on the west side of the Willamette is nothing new. What is new is the proliferation of row houses and lofts appearing, as if overnight, on the eastside. Like an invasive weed, condensed living has taken root, on both sides of the river.
"Some long-time homeowners have sold-out or have been gently-persuaded by one means or another, to move out. Oftentimes, the old house is razed and in its place, a trio of houses is built. Developers know, "If you build it, they will come".
"In spite of a weak economy and a dysfunctional tax structure, our region is growing. People continue moving to Oregon.
"I was still okay with condensed living until recently when it spread to my neighborhood, hitting too close to home. Admittedly, I have a NIMBY attitude. This year I witnessed dual units being built two streets away.
"One savvy homeowner who came into a windfall did what any savvy homeowner who comes into a windfall, would do: bought the bungalow next door and proceeded to have plans drawn up for a flag lot with two new units behind the two existing homes.
"From the start, many neighbors were displeased but I tried to refrain from passing judgment. I saw this as one citizen taking advantage of personal circumstances to secure a future nest egg. Isn't that the American way?
"I reminded myself this is the definition of condensed living and I voted for it. I wasn't alarmed; that is, until I saw the design of these new homes: essentially, both boxy with flat tops. Ach!
"In my neighborhood, most houses were constructed in the 1920's. It's easy to see the classic American bungalow-style dominates the area. Even easier to see is that the contemporary architecture of these two new homes is so very out-of-place.
"There oughta be a 'law of aesthetics' which states that new homes/ condos/ lofts or rowhouses constructed in old Portland neighborhoods conform designs to fit within existing surroundings.
"Apparently, the homeowner-turned-developer was not concerned about fitting in. Surrounded by A-frame houses, there now sits two big boxes which resemble a retail complex and stick out like a sore thumb!
"Condensed living is here, whether we like it or not. I'm not so sure anymore."
And here's what the architect said:
"Discourse like ______'s is pernicious and pointless. Its like spitting at somebody in a rain storm. Its a safe, toothless way to express dislike in the absence of the strength required to actually affect change. If she thinks 'There oughta be a 'law of aesthetics' ', then let her pursue the process of implementing a design overlay that will preserve her precious bungalow neighborhood. Until she's ready and able to do anything other than spout her opinion, she can spout all she likes. Anybody other than those stuck with a fundamentalist approach to the evolution of the built environment say your development is refreshing and new. The contrast of old and new makes the fabric of the neighborhood stronger and more interesting. She professes homogeneity. Wouldn't it be great if we all had the same color skin and lived in the same kind of house and went to work in the same kind of building and ate the same food? No.
"Es macht nichts. It means nothing. Red herring."
Amen.
Friday, September 09, 2005
Ack, it's hard sitting down to write when so many tasks, details, and errands swirl about in my mind and my schedule. For instance, I am focused on finally finishing up lighting, which I'll remember as the biggest chore associated with this whole project.
If I did it all over again, I would hire a lighting designer like all the smart people do. Then again, I've taken the crash course ...
But. I did get the major order in this week, and will fill out remaining bits and pieces with trips to fixture shop tomorrow and Bruck dealer next week.
Right now, tho, the builder says he needs towel bars and toilet-paper holders by the time I leave for Flathead!
This week a neighbor -- one I'd been friendly with since I took her mosaic class a couple of years ago -- sent in a long rant to the newspaper saying, "There oughtta be a law" against modern stuff in bungalow neighborhoods. The architect sent me a nice anti-rant back, making me feel better, but the criticism stings. Anyway, Mom pointed out Mabel and Galusha have ability to spark debate, and isn't that at least better than boring?
We are getting closer on color choices for Mabel, lately settling on a couple of shades of "amber" or "mango." (The Grok God doesn't let me say "orange.")
Landscape bids are next on agenda, so we must be coming into final lap. I've got to get on marketing, so that Craigslist (my new realtor) and I can get Galusha sold FSBO and ASAP.
Heck, I've already got 3 people seriously nibbling on Construction HQ. I love that I can offer homebuyers the choice of 2005 brand-spankin'-new construction or 1930 classic bungalow.
If I did it all over again, I would hire a lighting designer like all the smart people do. Then again, I've taken the crash course ...
But. I did get the major order in this week, and will fill out remaining bits and pieces with trips to fixture shop tomorrow and Bruck dealer next week.
Right now, tho, the builder says he needs towel bars and toilet-paper holders by the time I leave for Flathead!
This week a neighbor -- one I'd been friendly with since I took her mosaic class a couple of years ago -- sent in a long rant to the newspaper saying, "There oughtta be a law" against modern stuff in bungalow neighborhoods. The architect sent me a nice anti-rant back, making me feel better, but the criticism stings. Anyway, Mom pointed out Mabel and Galusha have ability to spark debate, and isn't that at least better than boring?
We are getting closer on color choices for Mabel, lately settling on a couple of shades of "amber" or "mango." (The Grok God doesn't let me say "orange.")
Landscape bids are next on agenda, so we must be coming into final lap. I've got to get on marketing, so that Craigslist (my new realtor) and I can get Galusha sold FSBO and ASAP.
Heck, I've already got 3 people seriously nibbling on Construction HQ. I love that I can offer homebuyers the choice of 2005 brand-spankin'-new construction or 1930 classic bungalow.
