Breathtakingly beautiful yard... 0% Grass.

A dear childhood friend is visiting Richmond from New York City and we hurried over to visit. Turns out her father's urban Museum District home has the most beautiful yard... and zero grass.

A rain barrel could easily irrigate this simple, luscious yard, especially if gray water were redistributed from the shower as well. For those that scoff at lawns without grass, here is a great example at how attractive, and amendable to entertaining and enjoyment, a zero grass yard can be.

Here, multiple herbs, perennials, and accents of splashy annuals gave their house more outdoor "rooms" in which to while away the day, perfect in its mix of sun and shade, a lovely accent to a beautiful, restored home.

We toured inside and saw beautiful examples of Barbara's stained glass work- and in their upstairs stairway they had installed a SolaTube! They said adding the SolaTube was the most dramatic impact of their dark Tudor home renovation, brightening up the house with natural light and showcasing Barbara's beautiful artisan windows.

(P.s. If you look to the right in this photo you can see Barbara's stained glass studio, where she does all of her work.)

 

Mandatory Water Restrictions

As of today, we are under mandatory water restrictions.

Neighbors, when you see me hopping around the yard watering daily, please know it is grey water, water that is being reused for another purpose. And that's what we've been doing all along.

It's actually quite easy: Put a large pail in the shower. As the water goes from cold to hot, it collects. Take a smaller pail and transfer water into watering can. When you bathe the children at night, leave the tub full at the end, and use it to water your yard the next morning.

Your plants will thank you! : ) And you will be not only conserving but re-using a precious resource!

(Of course noting restrictions on gray water use on edible plants...)

P.s. Pictures taken by 5 year old. Thank goodness for digital cameras, otherwise it would have been 293 pictures worth of film that day.

 

Visible Fences, Hidden Meanings

We all know the saying... Good fences make good neighbors...

On the Bay, fences are rarely used.

Yesterday I took you for a lil' tour of mid-century modern. Unfortunately, these architectural gems are not as appreciated today as new homeowners raze and build three story monstrosities.

I just sit back, admire the original squat mod architecture (where it still exists) and tell myself that those tall glass houses will overheat the occupants or shatter with the first real storm.

Oh, and are there storms.
So doesn't it make sense to build for it? Low to the land, taking advantage of the breeze... but you've already read that post, now, haven't you?

Today I'll review newer architecture on XYZ Point, and show you the changing landscape...

For example,
I see this...


Change to this... now twenty feet to the right of the above picture...



Ah yes, vinyl houses rise out of farm fields... can someone please tell these guys about Smart Growth?



At least some people are incorporating their "new" structures into the original architecture, look closely:

This homeowner did NOT tear down the original cottage, and instead expanded and incorporated the original into the larger total structure.

Sure does fit a lot o' grandchildren...



Any-hoo, on my documentation of mid-century modern, it also compelled me to more closely inspect the overall architecture... and fences.

As a landowner I understand the value of a fence. It keeps livestock in, coyotes out, provides clear delineations between what is "yours" and "mine" so that there doesn't have to be the wondering and feuding that occur when there is that question.

However, as someone who adores Snufkin, the fence statement is all in how ya do it.

This fence says,
"Step through the exuberant garden and come in for a cup o' tea!"


This fence says, "Come in! Gather round, it's time for lunch after a long morning of sailing! Momma's just come in from pruning hydrengas for the table and made you grilled cheese and a glass o' cold milk!"



And this fence?
This fence, below, says...

"You're not invited and we sooooooooo don't want to know you. You thah, yes, you there on the road, keep along, hop now, move on!"



Well, guess what, Mr. Snotty Fence:
Here, as we tumble out and run wild like pirates on the Bay... we might not want to know you, either.

Let the good times roll!

 

Wildlife + Suburbia. This really is a post about Smart Growth.

What is this, freakin' nostalgia week?

First I write about leetle lamps I saved, then a good friend sent in old pictures of us playing in a band (oh don't think I'm talented- I played the tambourine), then in my green building group I mooned over Finland and my time there in the '90s... think midnight sun, sauna, and lots of berry liquor. (I will overlook describing the mosquitoes the size of small animals in this post. The old growth birch forests more than made up for it.)

Now my dad just sent me a picture of a fox outside their (Crested Butte ski vacation) door, and suddenly I'm pulled into my days living in the Chelsea Hotel, often spent with Vali Meyers. She used to talk about her tamed foxes in Italy, who would follow her around, willing but wild pets who adapted to her presence.

In Virginia, I don't think twice about a fox dashing across the land, far away, across a hill. But this picture from my dad of a fox who adapted to tourists, sniffing about their kitchen door, thus raising the glorious, bad gypsy ghost of Vali, reminded me of the adaptability of wildlife, and that as ignorant suburbs further encroach upon quiet land... I am greatly aware of a shift, a change... They adapt. They adapt or die, and many are adapting to us.

I hear tales of turkey in Boston; friends recount their experiences of coyotes stalking the huntsmen here, peregrine falcons roost downtown, bald eagles and red tailed hawks swoop outside my office window, I see hordes of vultures on suburban doorsteps, otters in the freeway median... and this summer, the first real photo passed on to me (Thank you John! Love my cousins!) of a scouting camera image of a mountain lion in the neighboring county chasing deer... still rejected as myth by the public... (John, you really should pass on that photo to someone.)

Where I'm going with this is that green building is not just about efficiency, it's also about preservation of national resources through private purchase of acreage on the market now, to preserve and conserve. It's smart, slow, well-planned growth, allowing habitats to continue unmolested so that there is still a buffer between wildlife and allowing their avoidance and shying away from us, instead of overcoming a fear of, then depending on, then, frankly, preying on us.

Through smart growth planning, homes can cluster together, enhancing community interaction, while leaving the rest of the tract of land for wildlife and outdoors enjoyment.

I'm just saying that we need to value more our undeveloped land and let the animals be. Not that the copperheads or black widows care. But I do know that a fed bear is a dangerous bear, and it is our fault our careless communities are blending wilderness with completely-ignorant-to-real-life-in-the-country people. It is not an easy balance, and everyone loses.

Through conservation through private and public land purchases and deeds, we protect our national resources and treasure, our landscape, local histories, and wildlife.