Thursday, October 28, 2010

Guessing Game


Who can figure out this Real Estate market? I am seeing houses in this town sell for anywhere between $350 and $650 per square foot, and I cannot fully understand what accounts for that spread. It appears as though brand new homes are still able to command a premium, up to a certain square footage at which there are diminishing returns, meaning the price per square foot begins to slide because people do not want or need the excess space the home offers. Updated older homes that exude charm are also in demand, unless they are in a poor location. Friends just bought a lovely remodeled 1960’s home in a nice neighborhood on a flat ¼ acre lot for $360/sf. Granted, the street is a double yellow cut through between two busy roads, but it is generally a quiet neighborhood nonetheless. A tired but cute Cape Cod with deeded water access and a somewhat funky layout (MBR on ground floor, garage access though MBR sitting room, etc.) just sold for $400/sf. But a brand new house with a small (.11 acre) lot on a main road is in contract for somewhere in the neighborhood of $550/sf.

It comes down to this: there are not a lot of buyers out there, and those who are looking want value. If a house needs work, they want a discount. And so, our offer of over $425/sf for the house on our street was actually high. I keep thinking it is worth closer to $400/sf, but then the sales come through and begin to make me think otherwise. We wonder when they will come back to us, although my husband suspects that it would be too difficult for them to admit they were wrong. Of course, we would admit we were wrong too, and lower our offer. That should go over REALLY well. We are still hearing about “quiet layoffs” all around the New York area, and if the trend continues, Real Estate as a lagging indicator of the economy could continue to slide. No one can predict the bottom of the market – it is a guessing game. My guess is that the Real Estate market will keep us guessing!

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

(Taps)

The deal is dead. At least, for now. We went back and forth with the owners of the house, and before we submitted our “final offer”, we went to look at it again. Unfortunately (for them), it was a rainy day. The basement smelled musty, the gutters were showing their inadequacy, the rotting wood trim had nowhere to hide, and we decided that our most recent offer (we had increased our offer by $75K at this point) was as high as we could go. We began to feel scared about the daunting task we might be about to take on: fixing this neglected house. To be fair, the more anyone looks at any house, the more they will be able to find wrong with it. But when we first saw it, we had stars in our eyes, and the owners should have capitalized on that. There was a time, a few weeks ago, when we would have offered about $25-$50K more than where our final offer ended up. But as our enthusiasm waned, and our feet came back to earth, our desire to negotiate further dissipated as well. I guess that’s why they say, “Strike while the iron is hot”!

The real estate market in town is dead in general, so I would be surprised if they were able to drum up an offer at all between now and the end of the year. One of the sticking points in the negotiation was the closing date. They desired a January 15, 2011 date, while we had asked for March 31, 2011. We are not clear on why they were in such a hurry, considering that they HAD A BUYER WHO WAS WILLING TO PAY A LOT FOR THEIR HOUSE, but we stood our ground and, eventually, they gave in to our desired closing date. However, as far as price, we ended up being about $45,000 apart. Our final number was 10% below the asking price. Most houses here are trading at prices more than 10% below the final asking price, which is usually a reduced price to begin with. The other problem for them was that they agreed to a bum deal with their broker. She required them to have a contract signed on the private sale within one week after the Listing Date in order to avoid a brokerage commission. We received the owner’s final offer the day before the deadline, with a stipulation that we would need to have a contract signed by close of business the next day. Hilarious! Considering that we had not yet agreed to terms, and had not completed a professional inspection of the premises, signing a contract within 24 hours was a completely unreasonable expectation. In the end, the owners admitted that our offer was too low and that they felt they needed more time to test the market. I wrote back that we do understand (because we do – even though we know we are right! Ha!), and wished them the best of luck.

Since then, we have had several chance encounters with them on the street, and it has all been perfectly friendly and charming – there are no hard feelings at all. Unfortunately for them, it has rained for about six days straight, so there have been few (if any) showings of the property). Did I mention that one of my closest friends (a true BFF) lives across the street from them and has been spying regularly? She also offered to park an old beat-up pickup truck on her lawn and throw old beer cans around in order to make the neighborhood appear less than appealing to any potential YUPPIE buyers. What a pal!

What does the future hold? We heard last night from some friends on Wall Street that trading volume is slow – and that more layoffs are looming, even if not the 80,000 predicted by one fairly reliable analyst. Since this town’s real estate values are so closely tied to Wall Street wealth, I would say that’s bad news for anyone trying to sell a house. Will our neighbors get offers? Yes – it is a fabulous neighborhood with many amenities, and the house has good space. But they will get lowball offers, and will have to pay a broker 4% of the sale price. They will end up with less money in their pocket than if they had taken our deal. There is no doubt in my mind, they truly believe, or want to believe, that their house is worth more than it is truly worth. There is nothing wrong with that mentality, unless you are in a hurry to move, and you have no offers. We have not heard the last of them. It is really just a question of “when” we will hear from them again. We will see them on Halloween when my children go up to their door for some candy. And I wonder – will they offer us a trick, or a treat?

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Let It Roll, Baby, Roll...

The stage is set, the die is cast, whatever you want to say – the ball is rolling! On Thursday, we submitted some questions (mostly about mechanicals, roof, etc.) which were answered very quickly. I “gently” broke it to the owners that their square footage calculation was wrong (they never replied to that email, but you can bet they went down to City Hall that day!). The offer letter was ready yesterday, but we sat on it all day, for no particular reason other than that we were scared ____less. But at 7:01 PM last night, the letter was submitted via cyberspace.

It was a fair offer – one they cannot possible perceive as an insult. But let’s face it, they have not done anything proactively in that house. The kitchen is 17 years old. The roof is 13 years old. The windows are original (1970). The house has not been painted in eight years. So to receive an offer that is 15% off the asking price is not too shabby. And lest we forget, if we do this private sale, there will be no broker’s commission, which will save them over $50,000. Nice work, if you can get it!

Last night, ½ hour after I sent the offer, I picked up two of my friends and went to dinner at a great local restaurant. And wouldn’t you know it: There, seated at the next table, was the owner of the house we just offered to buy! I text-messaged my husband, and his response was, “Too bad he is not there with another woman. (Note: wife is away, looking at houses in their target community) Then we could steal the house!” He did have his arms around 2 ladies, but it was clearly a gathering of old friends – all couples except this guy. I don’t think there was any hanky-panky going on. Perhaps I should shoot him an email saying, “Was that you at the restaurant last night? I am sorry I did not get a chance to say hello, but I did not want to intrude on your fun.” Then, if there were any question about his actions, he would know that I knew. Food for thought.

Just kidding, of course, but it would be nice if there were a way to steal this house. I guess the fact that it will go to market at the end of September could work in our favor – as the holidays approach, there are fewer buyers out there. However, now that they have secured our offer, they will undoubtedly use it to drum up others. I can hear the realtor now: “Well, there IS an offer already, after all, so you may want to act quickly.” What better words to drum up interest? It’s part of Queuing Theory, I believe (very rusty business school Operations Management memories) – haven’t you ever noticed that when you walk into an empty store, it suddenly starts to fill with customers? Whatever happens, I am proud of us for our due diligence and for taking this risk. While I do believe it is a calculated risk, it is still outside of our comfort zone, and we will have to continue to push the envelope in order to secure our future, and that of our children. So, let’s see what comes back, if anything, this weekend. We are ready to talk!

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Didn't See It Coming

Oh what a difference a week makes! While chatting with neighbors on Sunday, we learned that the owners of the colonial on the hill (mentioned in my previous post) are putting their house on the market in the next two weeks! My initial reaction was, “Oh, that’s too bad. Better luck next time!” Thankfully, my husband immediately began the first round of “What if…?” The most important “What if” being: What if we can come up with some lenders and make this happen? We decided to “pay attention to the signs”, and be aware if the process of vetting this investment became too onerous. We would then have to understand that it was not meant to be.

We laid out a methodical plan for our due diligence. First step: call the owners and indicate our interest. The call was returned and a date for showing was made. Second step: Drum up possible lenders. Check. Yes, there is still money out there for investors, if you can be creative! I realize that it appears as if I am referring to this house as an investment, but in actuality, part of the plan is to KEEP our current house as an investment while we move to the larger home. It is truly the only way this deal works. With brokerage fees and transfer taxes, a scenario in which we sell our current home becomes a money-losing proposition, while renting could potentially turn a profit. Not to mention the long-term benefit of owning a $1,000,000 investment that pays its own mortgage and other costs. This house, in a sense, becomes our “retirement plan”. If the mortgage is someday paid off, we simply collect rent as our income. Another possibility is that refinancing the investment house in the future creates the opportunity for other investments.

We were truly blindsided by this opportunity, which may or may not happen. At this point, we have seen the house twice, and reconciled with its plusses and minuses. We have asked questions which have been answered. One sticking point which I will need to address soon is that the square footage is not what they claim (and it’s not their fault). The city records are wrong, unfortunately, and counted the family room (a 12x 16 foot, single-story space) as two-story. So, the house is about 200 square feet smaller than they told us. I will have to figure out how to call their attention to this disparity without royally pissing them off. We are close to submitting an offer. But it is a clear case of the “cart before the horse”. Our income, like that of so many people across the country, has been down for the past year. I had not officially begun to look for work. For some reason, though, we are at peace with all of this (beer and wine sure do help!). One of my greatest concerns throughout my adult life has been the funding of college and retirement, mostly because my parents did not plan for either. The fallout from that lack of planning has been close to devastating, and I have always been terrified of repeating their mistakes. But equity in a thriving asset – that could be the ticket for us.

The next step will be to begin the negotiations. If we cannot strike a deal in the next few days, the house will go to market. This could be good or bad for us – in the past, non-updated houses on this street have languished on the market. Renovated homes have gone to sealed bids. Where will this house fall? Hopefully into our outstretched hands within the next couple of days!!!

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Next Chapter...Colonial?

The summer is gone – there is a strong breeze and a chill in the air. The flowers are all but dead, and a friendly caterpillar has made his cocoon under our Japanese Maple tree. It is time for me to emerge from my summer bubble and announce that we have decided not to add onto our house, for a plethora of good reasons.

It all started when we heard that our empty-nested neighbors were putting the word out that they would entertain a private sale of their home over the next couple of years, if anyone were interested. The house, a colonial, is one of the largest on our street (about 2,800 square feet), and sits perched on a hill with a very private wooded backyard. My husband does not love the sloped driveway, but the front yard is perfect for small-scale sledding. It will need quite a bit of renovation as the front steps are crumbling and the interior appears to be completely original. But to us, a renovation project is infinitely more desirable and doable than an addition. Of course, we are not chasing this particular house, and in fact there are several other empty-nester homes on the street that may go to market first. But this one got our juices flowing.

While we have determined that we can make an addition to our Raised ranch work (yes, we revised it again), by simply adding a new kitchen, expanding the dining room, and adding a bedroom and bath downstairs, it does not give us what we truly want out of our house: flow and lack of redundancy. Our enormous downstairs family room was virtually unused all summer. We have separated our daughters into their own bedrooms, so we no longer have a guest/play room upstairs on the main level. And we can see with clarity now that we will want more separation between the public and private areas of the house as these girls grow up. With my aging brain, I continue to go up and downstairs ten times a day because most of our storage is downstairs and I am forever forgetting why I went in either direction/what I was looking for. This can only get worse as I get older!

Besides, moving to an existing house is GREENER. Wouldn’t it be nice not to have to disturb the plant and animal life that live in the earth behind our house? We have a large number of boulders at the very back of our yard that were excavated when the original foundation was dug. We would undoubtedly find more rock in digging a foundation for an addition, and I can only imagine the added expense (and noise, and irritation to our neighbors) of chipping it out.

Another consideration is that I will (hopefully) soon be returning to a regular job, and will have less time to manage a large-scale project. We would have a much easier time managing one project at a time, when we can afford it, to make an existing house perfect again. In the meantime, we have outlined about $20,000 worth of projects that we would tackle immediately to make THIS house perfect before selling or renting it.

I still believe that our addition plan would work for any Raised Ranch. But based on our specific needs, we do not feel it will work for us going forward – at least, not to the extent we would like. This family is entering a new era, in which our kids are older, we spend less but higher quality time together at home, and we are not as willing to compromise when it comes to our house dreams. The next 12 months should be interesting…

Monday, June 7, 2010

It's Not Easy Being Green (Or Is It?)


Two weeks ago, our local high school parents’ organization hosted its annual House Tour in which ticketholders were treated to self-guided tours of five knock-out homes around town. In general, only the largest of homes ever make it to the tour’s short list, and the organizers attempt each year to include a mix of old and new, traditional and more modern. I have attended about eight of these tours over the past ten years, and a few homes stand out as “the best”. One was a totally renovated stone mansion located on a peninsula with about 270 degrees of Long Island Sound views. It was the “country home” for a young couple from New York City and their three children. In the description of the home, one of the attic bedrooms was described as belonging to the “two nannies”. Nice. About 50% of the ladies who entered the room and read that description quietly mumbled something about volunteering to be one of the nannies, myself included. While this home was smashingly beautiful, I couldn’t help thinking what a waste it was for this home only to be appreciated on summer weekends, and mostly closed up for the winter. I also noticed that the carpeting was the same (off-white, short pile) throughout the entire house. Just an observation.

Another home, on the other side of town, won my heart for its charm and grace. Not a mansion by any means, it was an early 20th century colonial with many of its original details intact and, in some cases, enhanced. There were several fireplaces, hand-carved moldings, and a décor that reeked of warmth and hospitality. You could tell, a “real” family lived here, and that they thoroughly enjoyed their home. On the third floor, a beautiful, girly play room had been set up for their three daughters. The oohs and ahhs of the ladies touring the home could be heard for miles around. In fact, the “tour chatter” ripped through the town like wildfire that day – “Oh you MUST go to the Ridge Street house. It should NOT be missed”. Still, to this day, people mention that home as one of their favorites, I think because it was the homiest and most personally (and tastefully, in my opinion) decorated of all the homes that had come before or after it on the tour route.

This year, I did not attend. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE the House Tour, but this year I just was not into it, and decided to take a year off. Friends who went said it was not one of the best groups of houses they had seen, although in general the homes were beautiful. One house, that appeared to be decorated in nothing but Ralph Lauren (the wife is apparently a sales associate at the RL store in Greenwich, CT), made one of my friends sad. She said she was sad for the little girl who lives there, because the house lacked any sense of warmth and was more of a museum than anything else. To each his own, of course. It is probably true that you can tell a lot about a person by the way they decorate their home, but where we live, so many people hire decorators to decorate their homes that personality may have less of an impact on design than the power of one’s “purse”.

One of the homes on the tour was advertised as a “Certified Green Home”. Yeah right! This house is brand new, constructed on the edge of a wetland where no house existed before, and it is 6,800 square feet. Apparently it doesn’t take much to achieve green certification these days. A local woman who owns a green consulting service stated (correctly, in my mind) that the greenest home is the already existing home. I have to agree – you cannot disrupt countless living organisms and construct a brand-new mansion that will require monstrous amounts of energy to heat and cool and call it anything even remotely green. It is a joke, honestly. Oh, and by the way, to construct this home, which was built on a subdivided parcel from another estate, a looooooong driveway was carved out of the landscape (we are talking hundreds of yards) and paved over. Increasing the paved area anywhere in this town is a hazard because we are a waterfront community and have tremendous flooding issues.

Anyway, as I think about the truly green way of living – via “reduce, reuse, recycle” – I become more inclined than ever to find the most efficient floor plan for my own house. As much as I would love a more traditional “looking” home, a small addition to this house will give us what we desire without greatly increasing our carbon footprint, or wasting the positive attributes of the existing structure.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

CAUTION


The other day, while driving to White Plains, NY (shopping mecca of Westchester County), I was almost pushed off the road by a “Wide Load” manufactured home that was en route to its final destination somewhere off of North Broadway. It reminded me of my very first job, when I served as a legal assistant for Brown & Wood, a law firm that had been hired to handle a variety of mortgage- and asset-backed securitization transactions. The bulk of their mortgage-backed business came from The Resolution Trust Corporation, a quasi-government entity that had been set up to deal with the aftermath of the Savings & Loan crisis in the late 1980’s/early 1990’s. As luck would have it, one of the non-RTC asset classes that demanded significant legal assistant coverage was in the Manufactured Housing sector. And so began my career of handling somewhat unpopular yet necessary assignments.

I enjoyed working on this program for several reasons – it was kooky, in a way, and the associate whose job it was to delegate menial administrative tasks to me was actually a wonderful guy, incredibly smart, and moderately quirky. He admitted to me at one point that when he got married (in his apartment), they needed a witness, so the doorman from his building stepped in. One thing I learned during my tenure as the “Manufactured Housing Contract Specialist” was that our client, Clayton Homes, which at that point was more or less a one man show, had made an awful lot of money fabricating mobile homes and then lending to the buyers. It was a similar concept to what automobile companies were doing – profiting from the sale and the financing. By securitizing his contracts, Clayton could free up capital to make more loans. He was minting money, but he was also helping people achieve the dream of homeownership.

As my career moved toward Commercial and Corporate Real Estate, the plum assignments kept coming in. Property Manager of a building in the Garment District (before it was cool to be in the Garment District) comes to mind as one of the nastier roles I filled. Between the asbestos-laden restaurant space on the ground floor and a client who was less than interested in spending money to fully comply with local laws, this project generally sent Property Managers (including me) running for the door within a year or two. In my next position, at a different company, I was charged with managing the rolling of leases for a large magazine publishing company. Sure, we (at the time) owned such properties as Modern Bride, New York Magazine, and Seventeen, but those were not under my jurisdiction! Instead, I spent my days slogging away at renewals for American Hog Farmer, Beef, Waste Age, and Apartment Guides from here to the west coast. Interestingly, on a trip to Peoria, IL to visit one of our owned sites, I discovered that Shotgun News kept its guns in a closet adjacent to the storage space utilized by Quilting Magazine. Who knew that such varied interests could share office space and services so easily?! At one point, we were endowed with the responsibility to sell all owned Real Estate to free up capital for acquisitions and paying down of debt. The powers that be were intent on getting top dollar for every sale. One of our properties was located in Clarksdale, Mississippi. I received a call shortly after we began advertising it. Our broker in New York directed me to the front page of The New York Times, which showed a picture of President Bill Clinton visiting Clarksdale, Mississippi – on his whistle-stop tour of the ten poorest counties in the country. OK, so we might have trouble finding a buyer for this one.

Most recently, I had the opportunity to assist a professor from Columbia Business School in writing a case study for the Real Estate Department. I was thrilled to be a part of this experience, especially because the cases had been so fascinating when I had been a student 15 years prior. But I should not have been surprised when the topic was revealed: Restructuring A Construction Loan for Self-Storage Development. I must say, I had very little knowledge at the start with regard to the self-storage industry, but I quickly became an expert (of sorts). As I came to find out, this industry has shown enormous growth in the past decade. There appear to be a number of factors that have influenced this growth, including the increased fluidity of people and businesses across the United States, and the resulting need for temporary storage that accompanies transience. Storage space is also generally cheaper than office or residential space, and the units built today are climate-controlled and provide convenience and other amenities geared specifically to storage needs. I might also argue that Americans have more “stuff” now than they used to, partly due to China’s willingness to manufacture pretty much anything in large inexpensive quantities, and we simply must not deny ourselves anything we desire, and partly due to the “manifest destiny” of cheap storage space – “if you build it, they will come.”

So there’s my career in a nutshell. It has thus far provided a few funny anecdotes, a way to pay for my student loans, wedding and housing, but most importantly it has helped me to meet some of the most loved and influential people in my life while enabling me to hone my management, financial, organizing and writing skills. I can only imagine what is next - although it almost certainly will not be glamorous.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Bigger Isn't Better


(PHOTO: Wall of Closet)

My husband and I are practical people, often to a fault. Most decisions big or small require intense scrutiny and analysis. I recently stood in a shoe store for over 30 minutes deciding between two pairs of shoes that were similar but one had a heel and one was flat. The prices were significantly reduced and since I rarely buy anything for myself, I could have eked out the double buy, but that would not have been my way. Anyway, maybe you see where I am going with this. We are still in a holding pattern re: our house project, which gives us plentiful time for further analysis. And so, upon further analysis, we have decided to scale back the project once again.

We recently discovered a very interesting, post-McMansion series of books by Sarah Susanka, called The Not So Big House Books. An architect by trade, Ms. Susanka is peddling the idea that much of what we truly need and desire can be found within the existing walls of our homes, and that by building big we will not necessarily build better. Her timing could not be better – as Americans begin to reject the size and scale of homes built over the past 20 or so years and are looking for more economical solutions to their requirements for modern living, building big is causing big problems. In renovating our Raised Ranch, we have always felt that our house basically suits our needs, but we want “a little more”. We have also tended to back away from plans that were too big (the Colonial idea) or too wasteful and redundant (the first plan we scrapped).

As noted in an earlier post, we have heard talk of homeowners eliminating formal living rooms and/or dining rooms in their renovation plans in favor of more open, less conventional floor plans. It occurred to us that while we like the idea of a formal dining room, in our current setup the dining room table serves as a repository for all of the junk we accumulate, be it mail, old homework, notices, and anything else that does not fit on the refrigerator (another repository!). Unfortunately, given the casual nature of our home, we have little use for this table except when entertaining. Our goal in renovating and adding on is to create spaces that will fill our needs. We need room for a piano; we need comfortable seating areas; we need a place to sit and have a meal with friends. But do we really need a formal dining room? At this point, the arrow is pointing to “no”.

Here is how we have changed our plan, to reduce costs and create some efficiencies. We will add a large room to the back of the house – somewhere in the neighborhood of 15’ x 25’. The room will be a family room with a formal dining table and hutch at one end. When I say formal, please take it with a grain of salt. There will be no Queen Anne highboy or anything like that. At most, we will invest in a modest set from Ethan Allen with simple lines, possibly in the Mission style. It will be a large room that flows into the kitchen, perfect for family living and entertaining. Instead of a table in the kitchen, we will use that space for a powder room, and create a breakfast bar for casual family meals. The living room will stay the same, and the hall bath will belong to the children. The only other change will be removal of the California-style closets in our bedroom to create a pocket for the bed with recessed reading lights above. This will add two feet to the Master Bedroom, making it 13 ½’ x 13’ – not huge, but certainly respectable. Of course, a few window changes and an added door to the deck from the MBR will bring in more light and hopefully create a sense of greater space as well.

As we tweak this plan, we feel increasingly confident that it will satisfy our family’s needs while staying within a manageable budget. We have seen and heard of many examples where people simply over-improved or over-built their homes, and since we plan to stay here for a long time, it is imperative that we get it right the first time. Building too big will have economic consequences (taxes, heating, cooling) that may price us out of our home as we approach our golden years. So for now, we are jumping on the Not So Big bandwagon, and keeping it as simple as possible.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

I Digress A Moment to Mount the Soapbox


It is getting more and more difficult to contain my animosity toward Wall Street these days. I have always had a cynical view, colored mostly by my experience living in a town that has become a haven for financial executives, but the anecdotal evidence of Wall Street’s excesses and exploits is now being outrun by the hard evidence outlined daily in the press. The latest news is that Goldman Sachs (“The Evil Empire”?) has been slapped with a civil lawsuit by the SEC regarding its alleged defrauding of investors who partook of their offering of synthetic Collateralized Debt Obligations. Apparently Goldman neglected to inform investors that John Paulson, a billionaire hedge fund manager, had paid $15 million to Goldman in exchange for the investment bank creating a CDO for him to then bet against. Paulson made $1 billion betting that people would lose their homes. Nice!

These sorts of manipulations are nothing new. In fact, for some on Wall Street, exploitative bets are business as usual. While there is no doubt (well, maybe a little to the truly cynical) that the majority of professionals in the financial industry are honest, hard-working people, we can no longer look past the unethical practices of the top players who effectively control the market. It is more clear than ever that top financial executives play with Monopoly money, and the payouts are incredibly inflated. Do people on Wall Street work hard? Sure, but so do lots of other people who have to fight for a wage. I believe in capitalism, but I also believe in ethics, and treating people with respect and kindness. Making money by betting that someone will lose their home is a dirty business. It’s not illegal, but it’s still wrong. An article I read included a laundry list of questionable activities and deals carried out by Goldman over the past few years, none of which were illegal but all of which were damaging to honest people like investors and homeowners. One has to wonder what kind of person finds excitement in betting that others will fail. What next? Shall we start wagering on people’s jobs, and whether or not they will be able to continue to put food on their families’ tables? The example is extreme, of course, but not totally out of line.

Hopefully the Federal Government can find ways to protect investors, either through existing laws or through new laws drafted to address the problems caused by derivative securities. Since the 1930’s, in the wake of the Great Depression, our government has been a champion of homeownership. As we emerge from our latest recession, let’s see if modern leaders can live up to (or exceed) the legacy of the those who went before them.

Monday, April 12, 2010

New Neighbor



My dog Lucy and I (she’s a 14 ½ year-old beagle) came face to face with a coyote this morning, right in our own front yard. The coyote, which was the size of a large German Shepherd, stopped in its tracks, looked at us for two seconds, and continued on its way. I went running into my house like a crazed lunatic, dragging poor Lucy behind me. The truth is, coyotes pose very little (if any) threat to humans. However, there have been many coyote sightings in our small town of late, and even an incident in which a small white poodle was killed by a coyote one evening. In fact, this is the third time I have seen a coyote on my street in the five years I have lived here. When I called the police to report it, they told me what I already knew: that coyotes have been squeezed out of their homes by housing developments and they are just wild animals looking for places to live. This ties in well to a discussion about the suburban movement that my husband and I had en route to visit friends in Philadelphia this weekend.

In researching the post-World War II housing boom, I have found that suburbanization has had a tremendous impact on American society, and lays claim to some important aspects of our history. Prior to World War II, suburban areas existed mostly for the wealthy – those who could afford to purchase land, live in single-family homes, and pay for transportation to the nearby city. After World War II, as access to cars became more widespread, more land became available for development. Builders no longer had to focus on tracts that were within walking distance of streetcars. As more land became available, prices became more affordable. Banks also opened up their lending policies, and the dream of suburban life became irresistible to many middle class families. Over the years, suburbanization has been strongly condemned, blamed for sucking the middle class out of the cities and draining urban areas of valuable people and resources. The suburbs provided an escape for those middle class people, however, and it’s hard to fault them for wanting to retreat from the traffic, noise, crowds and often filth of the cities in favor of the bucolic landscape of the suburbs. Home ownership became a signpost of achieving the American Dream. It continues to be a goal for most Americans.

While many historians and architects still find post-World War II housing to be without purpose or significance, it is important to think about how the change in housing styles may have represented social changes in American society. These homes were being built for middle class working families. There was no requirement for maids’ quarters, for example, or distinct public and private sections of the home. In a Colonial style house, there is no flow between the sleeping quarters (upstairs) and the living areas (ground floor). Many Colonial homes (even small ones) had two staircases – a grand staircase off the foyer and a hidden “back staircase” between the kitchen and upstairs. These elements would allow for a more traditional, perhaps dignified reception of guests. While the Split-Level and its brethren were endowed with formal living rooms, their flow into the dining and kitchen areas made them less stuffy than their parlor predecessors. I hear talk, lately, of people eliminating formal living rooms and/or dining rooms altogether to make the spaces less formal and flow into each other more easily. It is possible that middle class families, while desiring more elegance in the exterior appearance of their homes, are recognizing that less conformity with traditional designs inside their homes is more conducive to comfortable modern living.

Interestingly, as transportation has continued to improve, and as corporations have found their own havens in the suburbs, even larger more remote tracts of land, such as former farms and forests, have given way to housing development. Whereas the suburban development of the early-to mid-20th century seemed to have been driven by a desire to replicate (on a smaller scale) the goods and services one could find in the City, while also enjoying individual home ownership, the new exurban development shows that the housing comes first, and the strip mall follows. People are willing to lengthen their commute time significantly in order to be able to afford the largest house possible. I have seen news segments about people in the Poconos who ride a bus two hours (or more) each way to work in New York City so they can have their own huge house. I have also, in my travels, witnessed many exurban developments that look like the houses were literally plopped down on their lots by aliens. All, or most, of the trees are gone, replaced by large plastic-clad behemoths.

Thanks to Toll Brothers and their compatriots, these McMansions have cropped up around most major cities. In fact, the McMansion movement of the past 20 or so years is currently bearing the brunt of public architectural outrage that used to be reserved for Split-Levels and the like. Many people reject Split-Levels and Raised Ranches as cookie-cutter homes that represent the worst aspects of our manufactured society. The rage against McMansions incorporates this same rejection but also has to do with the physical affront on our senses that these houses impose. Because of their monstrous size on small plots of land, they actually encroach on our ability to enjoy our own space. If we think of the suburbs as an escape from the City to a more bucolic, greener landscape, houses that then reduce the greenery of that landscape can be seen as a threat. Even the coyotes appear to be moving on.

Monday, April 5, 2010

To Build A...Wall



Now that we have settled on an interior design, the new challenge will be to create curb appeal on the exterior of the house. But let’s face it – the economy is still in the toilet, and we are in no position to break ground on a project. The desire to improve our house still consumes me, however, so for now I am moving on to greener pastures. Or in my case, greener projects. This past weekend was an exceptionally pleasant one weather-wise, and the outdoors beckoned until we all ended up out back – the girls playing, the dog sniffing, and me, well, I found a little corner of the backyard that needed some TLC.

As I have mentioned before, the neighbor behind us is the proud owner of a gigantic rock formation that provides a beautiful natural buffer between our properties. On the actual property line, many of the rocks that were uncovered when digging our foundation have been strewn about, but mostly in the two back corners. The back right corner is home to most of the larger boulders, whereas the back left corner has two boulders and a messy heap of smaller stones of various sizes. At least, it HAD a messy heap until we set to work transforming it. Now, it has a beautiful little wall which will soon provide the backdrop for a lovely flower garden!

I found myself back there perusing the scene while my daughters played by the wild cherry tree that currently serves as their “Nature Clubhouse”. My original intent was to create a compost pile that would not be visible from our house. Last summer I had begun to throw vegetable and fruit waste behind the rock heap, just to “see what would happen”. Nothing really happened, which I saw as a good sign. No animals came, other than a deer or two to nibble at some cauliflower. I thought this year I would dig a deeper hole and see if I could actually derive some benefit, such as soil for plantings. As I began to pull out the vines (of which there were MANY), I noticed a significant number of interesting rocks that were easily moved. Unfortunately, in the process of removing these rocks I disturbed quite a plethora of insect homes, but my daughters eagerly transported many of the refugees to new homes around the yard. Whether or not the bugs were appreciative of this effort, we’ll never know. I did, however, witness a fair amount of little girl screaming (some joyous, some in disgust), which helped me to understand that the girls were having a lot of fun with this new responsibility. All of a sudden, after about half an hour of work, I had a huge pile of rocks!

Just as I was finishing the clean-up portion of this project, Hubby returned from his “errands” (getting coffee, looking at cars, stopping by Home Depot, etc.) and immediately joined the team. After donning his work gloves, he went right to work moving some of the larger stones into support positions. We spent the next ten minutes or so matching up rocks to pile on top of each other until we had exhausted our supply. It was too early in the season to plant anything, but we will be at Home Depot soon to find flowers for our newly minted garden. Friends came over Saturday evening and admired our handiwork. We are pleased with the results, and encouraged to know that sprucing up our property can be an interesting family activity that costs $0!

Monday, March 29, 2010

Back on Earth...

As we settled into Autumn last year, $10,000 poorer due to architect fees, we decided to “take a break” from the planning process, and we advised our architect as such. We were on board with the Colonial idea, but it made no sense to make revisions to the plan until a time when we would be closer to realizing the project. With a $400K - $500K price tag, that would not happen for at least a few years. Hubby’s business, which normally relies on a constant pipeline of business, was finally feeling the effects of the past year’s economic crisis. I had accepted a job on a writing project, but had no idea whether or not it would lead to further employment. Financially, we were up in the air, and the only thing we could afford to buy was time.

Around January, after the hustle and bustle of Christmas had waned, we settled back on terra firma emotionally and began to realize that our Colonial dream might really be a “pipe dream”. Practical to a fault, Hubby and I both began to have doubts about converting our home to a colonial. Aside from the fact that all of the work we had accomplished thus far would be destroyed, it suddenly dawned on us that we would be turning our cookie-cutter Raised Ranch into a cookie-cutter Center Hall Colonial, with a dining room to the left, a living room to the right, and a kitchen and family room along the back of the house. We would simply be adding another layer to our existing box. “What is so exciting about that?” I thought. It certainly would not be interesting enough to warrant the additional mortgage burden. We looked back at our plan to add onto the back of the house and realized that we could create a much more unique home (for much less money!) by modifying this plan.

The changes we came up with were as follows: The living room would remain the same; the kitchen and dining room would be combined to create a large, eat-in kitchen; an addition of approximately 12 feet (depth) behind the kitchen and hall bath would accommodate a family room and dining room. On the other side of the house, the hall bath would become a powder room, the two family bedrooms would remain the same, and a full bath would be added at the end of the hall, between the family bedroom and master. The master bedroom would gain a walk-in closet and get bumped out approximately six feet. The master bath would lose its shower to the walk-in closet but take over the bathtub from the original hall bath to create a new walk-in shower. A deck would be built that could be accessed from both sides of the house. Downstairs, we would create a fourth bedroom, full bath, laundry room and rec room.

In the end, we would create a four bedroom, three and a half bath house, with a powder room in the correct spot, a formal dining room, lovely kitchen and attached family room, master suite and deck. We would preserve our vista and not create as much redundant space downstairs. We would also have a “real” laundry room instead of sharing space with our utility room. The mouldings, archways, railings and solid core doors would be preserved as well, and the furnace could be tweaked to accommodate the additional space. While we had believed that we could do anything we wanted to our house, in the end, our practicality told us we should not make it into something it wasn’t. Not wanting to be “posers”, we would accept our house for its shortcomings as well as its advantages, and try to allow it to evolve into its highest and best use (for the least amount of cash!).

Of course, not long after we came to this conclusion, a neighbor’s Colonial went to market. This home, one of the largest on the block, had been renovated top-to-bottom by our architect, Paul. From all accounts (I have never been inside), every detail is beautiful, perfect, and magnificently finished. The price tag was $1,995,000, which seemed steep considering that the last two sales on the street were $1,385,000 one year ago for a similar size house renovated ten years ago, and $875,000 for a Raised Ranch half the size. Days later, we were informed that the house went to sealed bids with five bidders and sold for over the asking price. As you can imagine, in my mind I simply HAD to revisit the idea of making our house into a Colonial. As far as investment value, it would be a slam dunk, even if it cost $700K. However, given that we would still have to PAY for that $700K, it would not be possible. We did conclude, however, that there would be only two options for our house: knock it down and start from scratch to build a real Colonial with a basement, or add onto it as a Raised Ranch. As far as we are concerned, the "Colonial Conversion” project is off the table.

Monday, March 22, 2010

Not-So-Divinyl


As I have discussed in earlier entries, Raised Ranches are generally disliked for their lack of curb appeal. They are boring boxes with windows. They lack character. What can be done about this? Adding texture is one way to enhance the exterior appearance of a Raised Ranch. Texture is, in my mind, one of the most important components of house and home design. It can help to minimize the boxiness – from Raised Ranch to Colonial and beyond. It creates a multi-sensory experience for the viewer. Our appreciation of style and beauty is greatly affected by both the tactile and visual effects of texture, particularly as they relate to house design. I would encourage anyone looking to improve their Raised Ranch to consider only those roofing and siding materials that will increase the amount of texture on the exterior of the building.

Siding is an immensely important element in the look and feel of a house. It should not be an afterthought – its effect on the appearance of the home is profound, perhaps even more so than the design itself. Certainly, it can be used to mask "blah" design flaws and inadequacies. Traditionally, homes in the United States have been sided with wood, stucco, stone, brick, or a combination thereof. These elements can determine how light is reflected and influence our natural desire to touch. Contrasting textures, such as wood with stone or brick, can distract the eye from the otherwise plain lines of many house designs. The post-World War II era brought us cookie cutter houses and aluminum siding, which would be cheaper (over the long-term) and more durable than the previously mentioned products. Applying this low-maintenance siding in cascading layers would mimic the look of wood clapboard with a much longer expected lifespan. Aluminum eventually gave way to vinyl, a cheaper alternative with similar durable qualities yet an even less natural look. From a distance, it is not always possible to distinguish between these types of siding and wood clapboard, although I would argue that clapboard absorbs light in a way that plastic or metal could never achieve, particularly as it wears over time.

About ten years ago, a neighbor of ours chose to re-clad his Raised Ranch in – gasp – vinyl, a choice I would never recommend. It now looks like a glorified mobile home. While there is nothing wrong with mobile homes, they do not generally belong in million dollar neighborhoods. Vinyl siding is also perfectly acceptable, but should be used for houses that already have texture, angles, and other ways of distracting the eye. Our next door neighbor announced last summer that he would be replacing his cedar shakes with new siding. We prepared for the worst (his brother was the vinyl offender down the street). As it turned out, yes, he would use vinyl, but he chose a staggered style, which was the original arrangement of shingles on all of the Raised Ranches in the neighborhood (see photo - Pink Floyd's got nothin' on me and by bedroom window view!!!). With vinyl shutters to boot, it still looks overly uniform and lacks a certain element of spontaneity in the way light is absorbed and reflected, but it is vastly more bearable than the “mobile home wanna be” down the street.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Viva la Vista!


All is not lost with the Raised Ranch. There are many ways, large and small, to make them more interesting than they were intended to be. This was our focus during our first four years living in one. The next big project for us would involve a new kitchen to replace the original (which had held up beautifully, I might add), but we felt strongly that it should be incorporated into a larger project if possible. When we met with architects, some of them expressed frustration with the Raised Ranch style. We had hoped for more enthusiasm, and maybe an infusion of confidence from these experienced designers. One gentleman wrote in his proposal, “You do not have a simple house to renovate.” Part of this has to do with the allowable floor area ratio (“FAR”) in our neighborhood and the fact that our zoning laws require garage space to be counted as floor area, even though it is unfinished (not typical in surrounding towns). We have three options: add a second story to create a colonial, bump out the back of the house to expand the raised ranch, or tear it down and start from scratch. At this point, for a number of reasons, we have ruled out the latter option.

FAR was the major subject of discussion with the first three architects we interviewed. They all seemed doubtful that we would be able to accomplish our goals of expanding our home without some significant measures to get around the zoning limitations. Some were more spirited than others. After meeting with these three very different professionals, we felt dejected and uninspired, instead of excited and ready to get started on a plan. I decided to call one more person in my neighborhood who had recently renovated her home (all of the architects had been referrals from friends or neighbors). I was a bit worried that the work she had done was more “high end” than what we would be able to afford, but I figured there was nothing to lose by calling in one more opinion.

Paul didn’t talk about FAR. He talked about the fact that “anything is doable”, and he was impressed with the “vista” that could be viewed from our house due to the open space between lots in our neighborhood. He told us about another raised ranch he had converted into a gorgeous showpiece on one of the main avenues in town. When he left, after more than an hour, we let it all sink in for an hour or two, and then realized that Paul was “the one”. He was the only architect who saw that there was more to the project than just the bricks and sticks of it – that there was a desire to capture all of the positive elements of our property in a project that would benefit our family for years to come.

At the time when Paul came on board, we were focused on bumping out the back of the house to create a family room and slightly larger master bedroom upstairs, and a 4th bedroom, laundry room, full bath and rec room downstairs. There was one element to this plan that began to define the entire project: the desire to incorporate a powder room on the main floor, adjacent to the kitchen and “public” areas of the house. Looking ahead, we realized that our two daughters, wonderful as they were, would someday be teenagers, and the bathroom they shared could become a veritable war zone. We cringed at the thought of our guests using the same bathroom as our “future Miley Cyrus’”. We also felt that if we were going to the trouble and expense of constructing an addition to our house, we should get everything we want (or as close to our goal as possible). In other words, there would be no compromises on our “must haves”.

The powder room became a huge bone of contention in our plan. Paul did everything he could to keep it real. He knew we were on a budget, and as the plan began to evolve, he saw the project increasing exponentially due to the placement of this %$#&*^ powder room. We, on the other hand, held fast to our “no compromise” objective. When we finally got some raw numbers from contractors as to how much this plan would cost, our sticker shock was palpable, to say the least. Adding 700 square feet to our home was going to cost somewhere between $300,000 and $400,000, excluding any work to the exterior such as new windows or siding, which would add another $30 - $40K. The powder room, which had become our albatross, threatened to unravel the entire plan. Another problem had been revealed: in order to add space on the main level, the lower level would have to be expanded as well. We began to see that a redundancy was being created – as the upstairs family room grew, so did the downstairs rec room. To us, the rec room was to be a “bonus room”, not a main living area. We would end up with a good size living room, small family room, and rec room large enough for a regulation pool table, wet bar, and plenty of seating. With our goal of creating flow, the disconnected rec room, while wonderful, would not give us what we intended to gain. At the same time, due to the placement of the powder room, the size of the upstairs family room would need to be limited in order to preserve backyard space. Suddenly our vista was shrinking (but the rec room kept growing, as did the budget).

We sat with the plan for a month. We were devastated that our original budget of $200,000 had been blown out of the water and, not for nothing, we would still have a Raised Ranch! It finally dawned on me one day. What I really wanted, my dream home, would still be a dream after all was said and done with this project. Already in my forties, was I willing to take the risk that my real estate dream, that had been driving me for most of my adult life, would never be realized? The answer, simply put, was “no”. I got on the horn with Paul. “Scrap the plan. We’re going up!” It had always been my dream to live in a beautiful colonial house, with wonderful flow for entertaining, space for a piano, and the ability to seat a large group at the dining room table. How could I give up on that dream without at least giving it a shot?

Paul asked me to revise our original list of priorities, which I did with lighting speed, and we were off and running again. Although I knew he was glad to have the work during a MUCH slower than normal summer, I could sense his frustration with our lack of decision. But, in the end, we would have to live in the house, and we also knew that Paul was glad to be rid of the freaking powder room. More quickly than expected, Paul came up with a plan for a center hall colonial. Essentially, the entire house would be gutted, but for the finished family room downstairs. But we would have four family bedrooms upstairs, a living room, dining room, eat-in kitchen and family room, plus laundry and POWDER ROOM. The placement of the powder room was, believe it or not, still an issue, but we knew we could plow through that decision much more easily than before. The house would have a total of four bedrooms, three and a half baths. The total square footage would run about 3,000 and change, including the finished areas on the ground floor. We would get around the FAR issue by building up the exterior grade (akin to “throwing dirt against the walls") to reduce our above-grade square footage. Paul seemed to think the City would have no issue with this, and that it had been done before. Our lot in particular would be conducive to such a technique because we were built on a natural hill. What’s a little more dirt, after all? Paul estimated that the project could be completed for between $400,000 and $500,000, which was much more than our original budget, but worth waiting for and, in the end, a better investment.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

In the Eye of the Beholder


Since the beginning of time, human beings have built and lived in homes that represented their wealth and power (or created a perception thereof). Kings do not live in shacks (although some dictators have been known to inhabit foxholes while evading the United States military), and while most of us will never rule a country, we desire our own “castle” – a home to be proud of. (Note: Millions of people in our very wealthy country have no home at all, and that fact is not lost on me. Homelessness may indeed also be tied to our American obsession with living quarters, but it is a topic for a different blog entry. I will address it in the future, because I do believe it is a very important part of the puzzle.) Along the topic of the real estate implications of “a man’s home is his castle”, I wanted to discuss a recent conversation with my neighbor, a lovely woman of whom I am very fond. The other day, while chatting with me on her front lawn, she revealed that the first time she saw her house (a Raised Ranch, of course), she cried. She qualified her comment by saying, “Now, this is just me, but I always pictured a two story.” In other words, she did NOT picture herself in a Raised Ranch. At that point, her teenage son chimed in. “I never want to live in a house like this again,” as he gestured toward his home. “It’s too…” “Boring?”, I offered. “Yeah,” he agreed.

What do these comments, and the general disdain for this type of house, reveal about people? I think there are several answers. Most importantly, our self-esteem is tied very closely to the way in which we live our lives. There are dozens of factors that affect a person’s happiness with their home environment, but given that monarchs and rulers have ALWAYS built castles for themselves, it stands to reason that a beautiful home can make a person feel important, no matter whom they may be. Certainly where I live, in the Northeast, as soon as people get a little money, the first thing they do is either add onto or improve their home, or move into a larger dwelling, be it an apartment, condominium, or house. There does come a point, however, when other desired features come into play, and an individual or family may need to move to a different community. Some of these amenities can include award-winning schools, access to transportation, convenience to cities, better parks and recreation, or just plain old social status. In general, if you are moving to a community that has better amenities, you will get a smaller overall real estate “package” (land and its improvements) for your money. This is what happened to my neighbor, who moved from a close-by yet more remote, land-locked village to our town which has, among other things, beach access, a city-owned golf and pool club, great schools, access to two train stations to New York City, and a quaint downtown shopping area. What our town also has is more expensive real estate, and so a Raised Ranch on a good piece of property is going to be more affordable than a Colonial or Tudor. This is where a buyer needs to strike a balance – between the desire for a “castle” and a need for quality of life. If you have made the decision to move to a town with lots to offer, and you are on a budget (like we were), you will have to weigh the plusses and minuses of each home you consider. The good news is that real estate is about “location, location, location”, so if you buy a house you hate, you can always change the structure (but you can’t change the locale!).

Aside from the self-esteem factor, people have a general desire to create beauty in the world. Not that we all expect to be artists or poets, but we feel an innate joy when confronted by beautiful things. Physical beauty is, of course, subjective, and while the collective consciousness appears to despise cookie cutter homes in a visceral manner, there is no avoiding the fact that repetition exists in our society and to a large degree has a place in a capitalist economy. In “Eat, Pray, Love”, the author, Elizabeth Gilbert, postulates that Italy has never gained superpower status despite its incredible location and large population, because the Italians have been too busy creating beautiful things like music, art and food. When you think about it, it kind of makes sense. The United States might never have gained worldwide economic and military might without the Industrial Revolution. Our ability to repeatedly turn out thousands and thousands of identical items, be they cars or weapons, textiles or food products, made us who we are today. So should we be surprised that, when the need for quickly, cheaply built housing arose, we resorted to what we knew best? Of course not - but it looks as if the buck stops with real estate. There we were, going along nicely wearing ready-made clothes, eating ready-made food, using ready-made products of all kinds, when all of a sudden somebody said, “Here’s a ready-made house!” and we screeched to a halt.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Make Me Pretty!





Curb appeal is something of great importance to me. My childhood home was a custom-built shingle and stone colonial perched on a hill with beautiful plantings in front. My mother had created an exquisite arrangement of azaleas that, when they bloomed in spring, attracted the attention of all passers-by. The effect of these bushes as they framed the front of this charming home was to create an elegant display of welcoming for our family, friends, and anyone else who ascended our steps.

Keeping this in mind as we sought improvements for our own home, my husband and I decided to tackle the project of eliminating all wrought iron railings, in and out of the house. Aside from the ugliness of this feature, grabbing hold of a cold, hard railing when one enters a home does not inspire a general feeling of “warmth”. In addition, the configuration of our outside walkway left a short set of stairs with no railing at all, creating difficulty for our aging parents and other guests who might need an extra hand when climbing steps. The solution consisted of wooden railings in a shaker/craftsman style – very plain, yet traditional and functional. Once the new railings were installed, we realized that our plan would be to pursue an overall craftsman/mission/arts & crafts feel in our décor. Combined with traditional American and a few Asian touches, we felt these would be appropriate both for the style of our house and for the ambiance we were trying to create for ourselves, family and friends.

Next, we honed in on architectural details, woodwork, and painting. The typical layout of Raised Ranch homes includes a kitchen at the top of the stairs, living room to the right, and dining room sandwiched in the corner between these two. Alternatively, the floor plan is reversed. Wherever the living areas reside, the bedrooms and bath(s) take up the other half of the floor plate. In our house, living areas are to the right and family bedrooms are to the left. Prior to buying this house, we had lived in a Split-Level home with almost the exact same layout, except for stairs in “different” places. At some point in its life, the owners of that home had created an archway separating the living room and dining room which was a detail we had loved. We decided an archway would give the living room and dining rooms definition they badly needed. The kitchen and dining room were separated by a small doorway, making both rooms feel cramped. By opening up this wall, we could create “flow” between the kitchen and dining room. We commissioned our wonderful friend and contractor, Gonzalo, to give us an estimate. He reviewed the proposed plan and put in his two cents. “Why don’t you add an archway to the kitchen entrance as well?” Brilliant. Three archways would define the spaces, give them a bit more character, and tie them together as parts of a whole. Widening the opening between the kitchen and dining room instantly increased the perceived size of both rooms, even as they stole “air rights” from each other.

Other details included a chair rail in the dining room, to create a more elegant feel, with an accent color (same as kitchen – Benjamin Moore “Sultan’s Palace”) above and trim color (Benjamin Moore “Linen White”) below. This gave the impression of paneling, without any additional woodwork. The living room and hallway were painted Benjamin Moore “Morning Light” with white trim. All trim was replaced/added throughout the main floor – bottom, crown, and around all doors. Speaking of doors, we decided to go for broke and replace all of our plain hollow doors with five-panel solid wood core doors. All hardware was changed to oil-rubbed bronze in keeping with our arts and crafts theme.

On to the bedrooms! The master bedroom got new trim and a paint job, a new light fixture to replace the existing piece of junk, and an off-white rug. We had fallen in love with the color the previous owners had painted the room (Benjamin Moore - “Sweet Spring”) so we gave the room a fresh couple of coats. Family bedroom 1, which our children currently share, was donned with a chair rail (trim paint below - white) and new top and bottom trim. Oh, and a few coats of Benjamin Moore “Cream Puff” (PINK) paint, which our children had chosen. We also replaced the light fixture, probably bought at Woolworth’s 20 years ago, with a cute chandelier from The Land of Nod. (Incidentally, all of the plants in our home are “descendants” of a single plant, purchased at Woolworth’s on 1st Avenue in NYC almost 20 years ago.) Family bedroom 2, which originally served as a nursery for our youngest child, was an office in its previous life. One of the only projects we took on when we first bought the house was to convert this dull dingy room into a “happy space” for our baby. We added wainscoting, painted white, and trim all around. The room is painted Benjamin Moore “Light Yellow”, which is actually not as light as I would have liked. The paint chips are terribly deceiving! We also replaced the cheesy, cheap closet door with a louvered door. This allows for ventilation when closed, or can be left open without taking up much space (it folds in half) in this tiny room. The room now serves as a play room for the kids.

The house is equipped with two full baths, one adjoining the master bedroom and one in the hallway, to be shared by other family members and guests. The previous owner had been enamored (apparently) with “sponge painting” the walls. Both bathrooms as well as the kitchen had served as her canvas. The master bath tile is a whimsical Villeroy & Boch design which would have been more appropriate for a children’s bathroom. We have left it, thus far, but changed the walls from lavender sponge paint to smooth light blue (Benjamin Moore “White Satin”). The hideous white laminate vanity has survived as well, but with new brushed nickel hardware to replace the polished chrome knobs. Where possible, we have tried to tone down the 80’s and 90’s influences throughout the house. Which brings me to the hall bath. I remember the previous owner gloating to our realtor 5 ½ years ago that this bathroom had been “her baby”. Allow me to set the scene: Gold sponge-painted walls, polished brass fixtures, towel racks, and toilet roll holder, leopard print towels and shower curtain, and white tile everywhere accented by gold trim tiles. Surprisingly, the vanity, made of WOOD (but topped with white laminate, natch), had a colonial look to it, but since it was a strange off-white color, appeared only to have been primed and not painted whenever it was installed. The polished brass knobs helped to accentuate its lack of luster.

Our first mission was to change the wall color to something more friendly. We chose a light green color, not unlike the color of mint chocolate chip ice cream, or pistachio. Getting rid of the gold, which had been painted (remember the sponge paint!) rather sloppily, was no easy task. We actually had to apply white semi-gloss paint to most of the areas where the paint met the tile in order to cover the remnants of gold. The vanity was painted white and all of the fixtures and hardware were changed to antiqued brass. Unfortunately, due to the accent color in the tile, we were tied to gold tones. The shower curtain is now white, and the guest towels are a medium blue color, which helps to tone down the pistachio walls. (Admittedly, this color does NOT tie in with the arts & crafts theme in any way shape of form. But it sure is cheery!).

Other small changes we made included light fixtures: modern sconces in the living room and a Victorian-looking crystal chandelier in the foyer were replaced with coordinating antiqued bronze fixtures from Restoration Hardware. The dining room had been lit by a crystal “teardrop” chandelier, which we quickly changed to black wrought iron. The chandelier, candle sconces and curtain rod in the dining room are all black wrought iron with a scroll design – not exactly the same, but certainly coordinated enough with each other to indicate a “theme”.

On the lower level, 20 year old linoleum in the hallway did not stand a chance after we moved in. We quickly replaced it with beige colored 12” tiles. In the family room, the fireplace cover had been polished brass. We looked into replacing it, but when Gonzalo informed us he could spray it black for a few bucks, we took him up on his offer. It now appears brand new and blends in nicely against the brick surround. We also added a mantel shelf to give the fireplace a smidgeon more definition. The only other major improvements to the house have been a new black roof, which was a necessity given the age of the original, and a new furnace system with three zones. These two changes have helped us to cut our heating and cooling costs and the latter in particular has created a more comfortable environment for daily living.

Overall, we have spent about $50,000 making our house more comfortable and suited to our taste. However, we are not satisfied. The disconnected family room is a big problem for us. We enjoy entertaining in our home, but feel it is impossible to have a formal dinner party due to the size of our dining room. Our wish list includes a family room that flows into the other living areas, a deck accessed via said family room, a master “suite”, a guest powder room, a full bath and bedroom on the lower level, new windows, siding, and a general face lift to the exterior. Having thought about our options for almost five years, but continuously spinning our wheels and making very little progress toward a path, we decided to hire an architect last summer. Not being experts in architecture ourselves, and generally having difficulty balancing our passion with practicality, we realized we needed “professional help”. We interviewed four different architects, all of whom showed us impressive portfolios of home renovations, but only one of whom understood the greater picture of what we hoped to accomplish with our entire property, not just the structure itself. He was the only one who really “got it”. He walked into our backyard and said, “You need to capture this view. You need to take advantage of what you have back here.” The other architects had talked about floor area ratios, and styles, but no one had looked at the big picture, until we met Paul.

Friday, March 5, 2010

Where did I come from? -RR

The Raised Ranch and its brethren were born out of a dire need for affordable, easily built housing in the post-World War II era. With millions of service people returning to the United States, there was an almost instant need for new dwellings all over the country. Fortunately, the Federal Housing Administration (“FHA”) had been created in 1934 to promote lending by insuring certain home loans, making them virtually risk-free for lenders. Factories in the United States that had been dedicated to the war effort now had to be converted to other uses, including the manufacture of building supplies. In order to meet the increased demand, style would be sacrificed for function and cost. Small homes with little variation in design could be planned and constructed rapidly. The days of the custom-built home (Colonial Revival, Victorian, Tudor) of the early 1900’s were over, temporarily.

Homeownership became more feasible for many Americans after World War II due to favorable tax laws, the FHA, and a booming post-war economy. Jobs were aplenty, and banks, having mostly recovered from the trenches of the Great Depression, made financing available. According to the United States Census Bureau Census of Housing, overall homeownership rates increased from 43.6% in 1940 to 61.9% in 1960, an enormous positive change.

Ranch, Cape Cod, Split-Level, and variations on the Raised Ranch-theme homes spread like wildfire. They were constructed without trouble, often on cement slab, saving time and money by not digging deep basements. They were mostly well-located in suburban areas with convenience to city centers and/or newly developed shopping areas. Parks, recreation, good schools, and transportation arteries and hubs made life in the suburbs “easy livin’”.

The design of the Split-Level and Raised Ranch style homes may have been influenced by some of Frank Lloyd Wright’s ideas, in which public areas of the home would flow into each other. This is more true for Split-Levels, which typically have a ½ flight of stairs leading from the kitchen to the family room below. However, I can vouch for the fact that the flow in Raised Ranch homes ends on the main level and does not include the family room in any way. In fact, this is my greatest complaint about our house, other than the exterior aesthetics. The family room is completely disconnected from the rest of the house, making entertaining large groups (i.e. more than 10 people) difficult and forcing a decision every evening as to where to settle in for the night. We are too cheap to pay for two DVR’s, so we end up staying upstairs in the living room most evenings, even though we have an enormous, lovely room beckoning downstairs. Of course, if we eliminated the living room television, that problem could be solved, but then our living room would become more of a showpiece and less of a family gathering place. But I digress. More on that later.

Modern architecture has sought to bring the outside in, which is why we often see large and multiple glass windows in modern homes, to a much greater extent than in more traditional homes. This is another flaw in the “tract housing” of the Post-World War II era. In order to cut costs, builders would use the same plan over and over again, making slight modifications for how lot topography might affect placement of steps, foundation, etc. We recently uncovered the original blueprints for our home and realized that the same plan was used to build our next door neighbor’s house! In order to save time during construction, no attention was paid to how the homeowner might take advantage of views from their residence. The same windows would be installed in the same places in each home, even if the backyard contained beautiful woods, a babbling brook, or a gorgeous Dogwood tree. Similarly, if the house were situated close to the street, or set back nicely, the same windows would be employed, sizes and all. It would be up to the homeowner to customize the window treatments to accommodate their particular needs. In fact, given the character-less nature of these homes, homeowners were really just buying a shell with a roof, walls, foundation and the typical fit-out of a home (bedrooms, baths, kitchen, living areas). Any sense of character was left completely to the buyer’s discretion to create.

Our backyard, while not large, abuts our neighbor’s lot which is almost three times the size and filled with woods and a gigantic rock formation, providing a magnificent natural buffer between us. Unfortunately, the only windows onto this wonderland exist in the dining room (regular double-hung double window), kitchen (small double-hung window) and master bathroom (even smaller double-hung window). There is no view from the master bedroom. We are quite frankly amazed that no one has addressed this in the home’s 40 year life. By the way, the view from the one existing window in the master bedroom is…my neighbor’s exterior wall. It is a blank, vinyl-sided wall with (thankfully, I suppose), no windows. I must admit, though, on Wednesday and Friday nights in the summer, we gather in the master bedroom to watch fireworks from the local amusement park, which can be seen exploding in the distance. We crane our necks a bit to see over the neighbor’s roof, but it is a bonus view we did not expect when we bought the house. Maybe the previous owners never looked out the windows? Windows and views will definitely need to be addressed in order to bring the unique aspects of our entire property into the overall feel of our home.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Whaddya call it?


The poor, underappreciated Raised Ranch. In doing my research, I have found web posts where people have made blanket statements about Raised Ranches such as “I hate them all”, “I personally despise these houses as annoying and pointless” and “That floor plan is appalling.” Frank Lloyd Wright, whose open floor plans probably inspired the Split-Level/Bi-Level/Raised Ranch style, is likely rolling in his grave. Here’s the dirty little secret of Raised Ranch owners: This floor plan WORKS! It is great for small-scale entertaining, and especially wonderful for young families who want to keep small children safely confined to one floor. However, it does have its limitations, which will begin to reveal themselves as you read on.

This style of house is difficult to define. There are a multitude of different versions of the Raised Ranch – Bi-Level, High Ranch, Split-Entry Ranch – and there are some subtle but distinct differences between them. But what they share in common are a main floor with kitchen, living room and dining room, bedrooms and bath(s), and a lower level living area and garage. The main difference lies in the number of stairs between the entry and the two separate levels. In some homes, the entry is at ground level. In others, you must ascend a short flight outside to get to the front door, and then make a choice between walking up or walking down a full, half or partial flight of stairs. Another difference is the placement of the garage – either on the front or side of the house with entry directly into the lower level. Houses with a side-entry garage are likely to have smaller garages and more space on the lower level. In houses with front-entry garages, the garage runs the entire depth of the house and the interior area is smaller.

One of the main disadvantages of the Raised Ranch is its lack of curb appeal. It is generally a box with a pitched roof. There are no unique architectural details in the exterior design. Zero! As a result, it is up to the committed owner to “make it interesting”. I became fascinated with this subject when my husband and I purchased a Raised Ranch five years ago. The style of house was our last choice, but all of our other “must-haves” were fulfilled with this purchase: ¼ acre of land on a cul-de-sac within walking distance of the beach. Oh, and we were on a budget! This particular home had an added bonus – it was three doors down from my in-laws, which was convenient for babysitting help, warm Italian meals, and general good company anytime we wanted. The question was, could this house satisfy our need for a “home with character” to complement all of the “characters” in our lives?

Built in 1969, our house was filled with original “details”, such as wrought iron railings (inside and out), plain bottom moldings, hollow doors, original kitchen cabinetry (that had been painted and updated), formica countertops in both bathrooms and the kitchen, and linoleum throughout the downstairs hallway and utility room. The previous owners had renovated the downstairs family room with Pergo floors, slightly more interesting bottom moldings, built-in bookshelves, a brick (gas) fireplace, and solid core double doors to the large closet and under-stair storage space. However, there were enough polished brass details (door knobs, fireplace cover) to remind everyone that the work had been completed in the early 1990’s. In addition, the original wood frame windows had been replaced throughout the house with cheap vinyl. The garage window had escaped this fate – and was merely boarded up and painted over. The path to homeowner’s bliss had been laid before us by a series of cheap upgrades that would simply have to go!