I Am Living A Smart Growth Nightmare.

I am living a smart growth nightmare.
Warning: This post has nothing to do with our prefab house kit on the land, but our mid-century modern home on the edge of Richmond, Virginia.
(I am also keenly aware many of our friends do not have the luxury to even consider these options.  So please be gentle and remember this is me rambling on my blog about me, and how boring is that.)

Let me remind you how we got here:
I grew up with a family farm, Rotherwood. In my late twenties, I came home from New York for the holiday to discover it was no longer a family farm, but now owned by my uncles.
You move on.


Handsome Husband and I fell in love, married, and had children. The moment we could, we both, yearning for land to pass on, put everything we had into buying land.  We want to pass this on to our children, to their children, to give them the experience and identity with which we both grew up with (thinking both our family farms would remain family farms to be passed on) and counted upon.

[Note: There will be a post soon on passing on family farms, preserving them.]

Our strategy was simple:
Buy the land.
Pay it off.
Save up money for a house to live in forever (Taaaaa daaaaa! There is the off grid prefab house kit you all know!) while building slowly, over the years, a great, sustainable farm.

Once the children were older (they are in a special international program here until 5th grade) and the farm in working order, we'd sell the Richmond house (hoping everything by then was paid off) which would then pay off anything we had left, then save the rest as our retirement income (if and when we ever retired - I enjoy working too much and can telecommute anywhere!).

Then: instead of driving to the land on the weekends, we'd come in to visit our urban friends, and have them out to the land like we already do! Perfect party + solitude!


Over six years ago, with a toddler and baby on the way, we found the perfect mid-century house in the perfect "good school" area, convenient (supposedly) to everything.  

This is where the smart growth nightmare begins.

We are huge walkers. 
In our old urban neighborhoods, all we did was walk.
The architectural diversity and vibrant community was a wonder - in North Side and The Fan, there was always a neat house to discover, a new store to stop into.

Both neighborhoods, because of smaller individual lots, shared much community space - parks, sidewalks, coffee shops... and when you walk through, it is clear they are Front Porch Communities - where people enjoy looking out at the action in front of their homes, relax and socialize publicly on the front porch, have last minute potlucks and random offers of a beer passed through the front porch railings, and even better, groups congregating instantaneously together, spilling onto the sidewalk, on a summer afternoon.

Pretty much all of our friends live in either urban or extremely rural settings. 
What is it that makes these seemingly disparate environments so similar?
Strong communities.  In the urban environment, yes, there's crime. In the rural environment, yes, you need help with pulling out the tractor from the ditch or retrieving the escaped hog. You have to rely on each other, and if yer gonna need each other, you'd might as well make it fun!

In the suburbs, each nicely sized lot allows the neighborhood to be filled with each person's perfect oasis.  But that means, for us, isolation.  No sidewalks, no stores or coffee shops to visit (unless you want to cross suburban four-lane streets that are more comparable to highways), and no, no neighbors, at least during the day.

There are overwhelmingly different choices in lifestyle, and that is a separate issue to explore, later... I don't think the green movement is forcing women to stay at home, like this French feminist asserts; however I will say that in urban and rural areas you find more entrepreneurs, whether they be male or female, where they can work more flexibly to raise their children with and also while nurturing their business.

I adore working, pushing myself intellectually and professionally each day in my office.  But as I challenge myself, I can also look out the window, and see a beautiful garden, and watch happy children chasing caterpillars with their happy romping dogs.  I realize many people can not do that in their own professions, but I also see that there are more people that do live that way in urban or rural environments.

Here, like clockwork, the neighborhood minivans leave at 7:45 out their drives, to return at 5:45 just in time for the pizza delivery truck to arrive.  During the day as we quietly type on our keyboards in the office, the only sound we hear in the entire neighborhood is that of my own children playing.

This snow has been strange: For the first time in six years, I heard the sounds of other children playing outside during the weekday.
One night, in the last light of dusk, as I went out to close the coop, I saw one child, freshly suited up, running for the snow in their back yard to touch it, to embrace the cold, to feel the snow for the first time that day. My own children had been playing outside ALL DAY, and were wet, tired, and warming up with dinner inside. So: There are children in this neighborhood, all over the place; yet my children rarely see them because they are not physically here until after 5ish, when my children, after a day of play, are inside readying for bed.

During the snow, with schools closed, I observed the freaky scenario of my children playing happily in the front yard, while the across-the-street neighbor's children were playing happily in their front yard, yet none of them looking at or acknowledging each other. My children were so not used to seeing other children during the day, it was like they didn't exist, the road, which they are not allowed to cross, dividing them like a dark curtain, hiding them from consciousness.

There is a shopping center two blocks away we can't walk to. Sure there's cross lights, but YOU TRY crossing the roaring four lane-in-each-direction Patterson / Three Chopt Avenues, with traffic blindly screeching around the corner hurtling away, much less thinking of letting your children do that one day unaccompanied.

And then we consider all of our friends, in the center of the city, within walking distance, many of them home in the afternoons.

Don't get me wrong, I take full blame for not being more integrated into this neighborhood.  Face it, we're The Freak Family.  We have different schedules than our neighbors- coming inside as they're just getting home, and leaving each weekend for the land. We have weird-looking dogs. We live differently. Heck, they even think we're gross because we have a few chickens. (One parent, upon learning about our eating an unexpected rooster by throwing a Coq Au Vin dinner party, where he fed seven people after living a grass-fed, free range existance, assured her horrified daughter, "No, honey, they did not eat their rooster." Lied to her daughter, in front of me. Where do they think meat comes from, Costco?)


But if you look at the study and practice of smart growth and intentional communities, this could be a case study: 

• no sidewalks
• no shared spaces
• differing lifestyles / values / even eating habits
• commuter culture vs. a work and living habitat
  

In moving back to an urban environment, we'll also face the reality of crime and bad, yes, bad, no-comparison-to-the-county schools.  We would have to count on getting into magnet schools, getting German tutors, until we move to the land.

Even if we stay here and make this mid-century home even further our dream home, our oasis and homestead until we can turn the land into the farm, the reality is that we would be in a dream house surrounded by no sound during the day and away from all our friends, whether they be in urban Richmond or rural Pamplin City. Are we ok with that? I don't know.

As I pondered this tonight, discussing it aloud, my 7 year old put his arms around me and said, "Momma, we don't have to move. It's ok just playing with my sister, it's ok...we have fun!" And they do.

We just really miss our friends. We have our strong community on the land, and we have *tons* of urban friends we never see because we're stuck in this No Man's West End land of: "Oh, if we move here we'll use the club every day (hate it) and see my parents every week (more like every 4 months)."

Time to start living, regardless.
Here's the farm house we found in the center of the city. 
It would be a heck of a lot of work. 

But even if we make our current mid-century fully our dream-home-for-now...
it's still lonely. 
What to do, what to do.

 

Snowpocalypse! Meeting At The Net Zero Prefab Green House Cancelled Due To Snow.

Instead of meeting at the prefab modern house kit with our Fabulous Contractor as planned, we are snowed in at the mid-century modern while Snowpocalypse swirls about us.


So far, halfway through Snowpocalypse Day One, (which began at FOUR A.M. with the children simultaneously asking, "Momma, can we go outside yet? Momma, can we go outside yet?") we have performed Chicken Rescues, gone through six wet pairs of socks per child, four snowsuit changes, and one experimental snow chain drive. Handsome Husband has just saved the day by handing me a hot mug of Gluehwein. It is now 1 p.m. And heck yes, I'm gonna drink it.

So, no new pictures or videos of the prefab green home this weekend.
But it IS storms like this that make us reconsider, "Maybe having a wood stove at the prefab isn't such a bad idea after all..."

Which brings us to the next post from Handsome Husband:
The Net Zero Prefab Green Home Systems Report: Heat.

 

Another Net Zero Off Grid Weekend In The Prefab Modern House Kit

After a week of rain, the sun broke out and the skies were blue as we headed to the net zero prefab modern house kit!  Still with no systems installed, our net zero off grid prefab was cozy, and lovely to visit.

I know better but I did it anyway: I am starting to slowly drag furniture out there, knowing full well the construction dust that will soon ensue.  Years ago my Handsome Husband discovered this stackable bookcase in a thrift store. He thought it terribly expensive ($30), but loved its soft curves and that it was solid wood.

It was then reused in my home office, then reused in an infant's room, now to be reused by all of us in the prefab house!  I will give it a fresh coat of paint this spring, but in the meantime it anchors the east side of the south room, beginning the interior design and use of that area as I envisioned: the reading corner. 




When I thought we would have a wood stove (no longer necessary as we installed radiant heat in the polished concrete foundation), I mentally placed the stove against the center wall, then a circle of floor pillows and books within cozy, languid reach.  The bookcases you see are open on each side; so I envisioned mid-century Popular Mechanics, books on "How to do XYZ (insert something fun, educational, practical here)" and Countryside Mags facing the casual reading area, then on the other side of the bookcase and facing the south view grouped with the more adult furniture, you can discover high design / architecture magazines and books.

I am still mentally working on these groupings... In the meantime the bookcase will stay against the wall and be a bookcase / kitty cat climbing cave for a certain 5 year old.

The purple Steelcase chair was found for $3, a 1970s contract furniture piece. We have two in purple, and two in mustard.

I added books that we have been collecting:

- Mid-century volumes of encyclopedias and United States history for children (the illustrations are *incredible*)

- Old Countryside Mags (full of reader tips and wisdom!)
- Mid-century Popular Mechanics (again, the graphics rock AND it's fun to learn!)
- Lots of Civil War and Virginia history books, written from many perspectives
- A large volume on historic Charlotte County
- Brochures and guide books on cool Virginia state parks and history sites to visit
- The usual Dwell and Metropolis Mags

Without my having to explain my interior design intent, I turned around and the furniture and area were being used exactly as I imagined.

On Saturday we emerged out of days of cold and rain to see highs of 60ish, and dropping into the low 40something. (40-42)  Inside the modern prefab, *still without systems*, we arrived to find the temperature reading 62; and, after an evening of 40ish, awoke to find the house at 59.

We will further insulate the passive solar prefab by adding foam around the exterior of the foundation before infilling the earth around the prefab house, and adding sealant around the windows before finishing the interior walls.

Next we will add more recycled, reused furniture little by little, bringing something out with each trip; and of course start the interior walls and systems.  We thought our first quote for finishing the off grid electrical / plumbing to be high, so we are still gathering quotes. Stay tuned...

 

While our Net Zero Modern House cures: Eero Saarinen Exhibit at the Virginia Center For Architecture!

While we're waiting for our modern net zero house foundation to cure, I went to the Mod Mid-century Eero Saarinen Exhibit at the Virginia Center for Architecture with our friend Tony.

Y'all are so sick of me blah, blah, blah-ing about the house kit, modern design, etc.

So here's just a bunch o' modern furniture pictures we took!

 

Mid-century modern design, locally: Alan McCullough

Dear readers,

Because I could not bring you to the Bay (sorry, no room in the car with a handsome husband, two chilluns, two dogs, and a visiting German mother-in-law sandwiched in between the suitcases and fishing rods!), I have brought the Bay to you, and with it, mid-century modern architecture *and* older, traditional cottages and farmhouses.

As we look 'round the world for inspiration, sometimes we forget to look slowly, carefully, about ourselves and our own local environs.

Hence, I present an architect who had a great impact on a certain point in a certain area of the Chesapeake Bay: Alan McCullough.

Before I present his mid-century architecture, I'd like to start with two traditional types of design you will find in this area: the cottage, and the farmhouse.

In both you find passive solar concepts:

• a long, slanting front porch facing south for the cottage
  
• kitchen to the north, with a smaller, shaded porch and outbuildings
  
• carefully placed windows
• use of deciduous trees for shade
• casement windows and partitions
• AFFORDABLE construction

Here are some examples of these two types of architecture that prevailed locally in the 1800s-1940s:

And more:
(now remember, many of these pictures were taken as we were driving, and when the driver is from Hamburg, that is often quite fast, so hang on for the ride!)

In the 1940s, a group of friends bought lots for about $500 on the end of a certain point on a certain area of the Chesapeake Bay, and one of those friends was Mr. McCullough, who happily happened to be an architect.

Mr. McCullough deftly sketched elements that are still important in green building and modern design today:
- harnessing the breeze to cool
- stout chimneys for warmth
- overhangs
- breezeways -- note the openings between many elements of his design! - screens for privacy yet allow air circulation

...and more...

And with this, I present...

Mid-century modern on the Bay!

If you glance to your left, this is one of the few two-storied residences Mr. McCullough created.

Many of these buildings appear to be happily overtaken by camellia bushes
which are bursting into bloom right now...

Look closely at the details, always look for the chimney stack, the overhangs, the casement windows/screens, and the ever-present open breezeway, even if later owners closed it.

Look even more closely... yes, the chairs & tables folded away for the winter yet hold all the promise of another great summer ahead.

Are those real antlers in the hall?

Honeychile, this is Virginia, yes they are.

Below is my absolute, unabashed favorite.

One day this house will be mine.

Fortunately, all of the amazing detail of the mod screens, chimneys, open breezeway and entrance are lost on the internet because of the weathered woodland so you won't covet it... because it's mine, all mine!

...and more...

This home, desperately crying for someone to hack its camellias, upon closer inspection has a central stack and hexagon shape.

Why the heck are all these architectural structures of note trying to hide their figures? It's like voluptuous starlets that have been sold the waif look.

No need to hide, ladies, sashay down the carpet and celebrate yourself!

Can you imagine what this gal looks like on the inside? I bet it's mod... real mod.

Ok if you've made it this far, let me know if you want to see more.
I have several posts that could relate to this...

In the meantime...
Enjoy some more pictures.

I adore this fish...

Check out the wind vane...

This fish tried to eat my mother-in-law but I smacked it away. Hiiiii-ya! Take that.

Mother-in-law...

P.s. I have about 400 more pictures, all on architecture in the area, so if you want to see more just let me know.

>

"Dag that was a long walk!"

Oh giiiiiive me a hooooooome... where the buffalo roam...

Yes, maw, in the south there's buffalo *everywhere*..... really.

Oyster beds... another topic to write about...

This is what I look at when I fish. It's very, very quiet.

Yes, I took a picture of myself. Geek.

...And *this* is the hidden easter egg for Sally and Jane to see if they're reading.

Heh, heh...

J&S: Do you feel twelve again?

Every time I walk past here I crack up when I think about those bikini tops... Which could go into the third topic I'd like to write (and have plenty o' pictures for...) about: fences and their meanings.