I, too, lived in a “scraper” for ten years that was also on the northwest corner of a lovely intersection. I knew  my girl was riding into the sunset and we watched every penny we poured into her, kind of like those comparison-effectiveness studies health care reformers want to help whittle costs. (Just wait…) We stuck to functional repairs — only repair plumbing but forget new wallpaper. In other words, resuscitate, plastic surgery out of the question. I wanted a shot at building my dream house so we sold her — one of the hardest, most retching sales I ever had. I remain great friends with my realtor to this day for this reason: I called him at two in the morning 42 hours after closing, begged him to get me out of the contract. (Client from hell, that was me.) I was sobbing: I can’t leave this home, I cried, it has way too much history and… way too much stuff. I particularly enjoyed Christine’s story, because like many of us, I like to play “what if”? What if I had not gone to the college I did, met my husband, what if I had not bought our home on Park Lane and what if my dear agent had called me back, said yes darling, I’ll reverse that transfer of funds stat and find you a nice real estate attorney to cover you for the likely lawsuit you will be in for failure to perform to contract. Never had five garage sales, packed two moving vans, moved a family of four plus three dogs and a parrot into a rent house for 1.5 years, was almost evicted from said rent house, never got my security deposit back even though the builder tore the house down to — kindling. Took him to small claims court and won, but he had filed for bankruptcy and I just got in line. Am still in line, actually.

Do you see how this scraping business created an economic frenzy? On a bright note, only one thing broke: my sister’s antique glass cake plate, and she knows nada to this day.

Christine, I know what I am getting you for Christmas: earmuffs!

The most notable example I can think of is a home with an “architecture feature” that ducks were flying into in the 8700 block of Jourdan Way. If you like you can read my story on the subject here. The photos on the left are from Patty Young, a bird watcher who took it upon herself to document the ducks’ inability to avoid colliding with the “architecture feature.”

The “feature” was a large glass window built into the wall surrounding the pond. The purpose of the windows were to allow for a view of the pond and the house despite the large wall surrounding aforementioned home and pond. Seems a little oxymoronic to me … But, I don’t get paid by the hour to replicate “architecture features” from the Nasher Sculpture Center in the back yard’s of Preston Hollow estates.

Needless to say this job site (construction was still taking place on the home) was none to friendly to our feathered friends.

Update: Scrape or save — trying to decide? Send me your house photos (Candye@dmagazine.com), or invite me to your house — I’ll be happy to come take pictures for “Is This House Worth Saving?” XO

Three years ago when credit was flowing like the Veuve Cliquot and Lear Jet tails at Teetersborough, Dr. C would have not minded selling his all but paid for home. He and his wife would have gone into debt for a bigger, shinier new product south of LBJ. They got bids. Then Wall Street melted, choking off the credit supply.

Now, Dr. C, like many of us, is re-thinking debt. Does he really want a mortgage the size of Montana until he’s 80?

Why, he asked me, should I go into huge debt at my age — 50 ish— for a new home, when my wife and I may not want to stay in that home the next 30 years? Why not change things in our current home — kitchen, walls, ceilings, floors, master bathroom — so that we can look at nice surfaces when we come home and enjoy the aesthetics without incurring huge debt.

Reason: for years, real estate appraisers and financial analysts have warned us not to pour too much money into our homes. Think of your home as a marketable asset, ready for the auction block at a moment’s notice.  Tsk tsk as much as you want when you drive by another older home biting the dust, but financially some are just not worth keeping. 

Or at least, this is what we have been told.

Could they be wrong?

I thought Dr. C’s home was a compelling story, his a situation more and more people find themselves in today. Builders tell me things are changing, a new tide is upon us. Outside of the The P Bubbles — Park Cities, Preston Hollow — few are buying million dollar homes. (Lowered prices in Park Cities are ruining sales elsewhere, because even if you can buy a ghastly spec home on a bad street in the Park Cities, at least you’re in The Bubble.) As we rein in the excesses of the last ten years, maybe “they” gave out wrong advice — or advice conveniently suited to enrich Realtors, mortgage brokers, lenders. So I asked Dr. C for permission to share his story, show photos of his home, and ask our readers for advice. Take a look at the photos and tell us what you think. Is this house worth saving?    �

Pink blossoms were woven on a twirling vine that snaked up the staircase. My daughter now tells me she followed that vine up the stairs during her teenage years countless times when she thought she couldn’t make it, probably because she had been doing something I don’t want to know about. My son dangled play critters from the top landing to scare us. All the kids played rollercoaster on the back stairway, sliding down on cardboard lids until I thought they’d crash through the wall. Tulip the Easter duck turned the pool into a poop lagoon. Dogs were brought home in that house and died in that house. In other words, rich family life that ended when I tired of old home maintenance and decided to create new bones and make history on another piece of dirt.

Today, I had about thirty sobbing minutes when I regretted that decision.

I held my breath when I asked the people who bought it from us if they were going to tear it down. No, they said, they wanted to raise two rambunctious boys there. But about a year ago, they sold it. And whoever bought the house didn’t love it. Neighbors told me he had grandiose plans to enlarge the house. He chopped down some of the best trees, including one that held a tree house we built from a sonogram crate. The pool went to hell, the tennis court cracked and birds flew in the house through broken windows. I had to stop driving by – I wanted to wrap my arms around my old house, put a band-aid on the window, move in and take care of her.

But of course, she was no longer mine.

Now comes word that a family has bought the house, which they never looked at. They bought it for the dirt, of course, and it is prime dirt — 1.25 acres in the honey pot of old Preston Hollow. They will tear down our old house and build a new one. And yes, today I watched it being picked apart like a carcass with tears in my eyes.

I’m told the people who will occupy my old dirt plan a completely green new home – not too big, not too bawdy. A self-sustaining home with beaucoup energy efficiency and geothermal. They are tearing down the tennis court I financed for my husband when Compass Bank offered introductory re-financing rates — I noticed the ad when cleaning out the bird cage. Lots of good times on that court. They are not keeping the pool that kids and dogs swam in, they are not building a new pool; pools are ecological extravagances what with water so scarce.

Our old home is was very old. I knew she was functionally obsolescent ten years ago; she was built in 1939, DCAD has her birthdate as 1959 — was she lying? I hope this new family gives her the dignity of living lightly on her land and creates a new space for more generations of memories. One complaint: why did you chop down so many trees?  And may I please come get the roses my husband planted for me on Mother’s Day, 1993?

�

“A “balanced” market is considered less than a three-month supply.”

Hmm. I thought a six month supply was balanced, or does that apply only to pre-owned homes? Your thoughts?

“Drove by this morning and the house next door to Troy’s is already getting torn down.”

He’ll certainly have his pick of contractors in this economy.

I welcome Catherine Horsey to Dallas Dirt. (Please wipe your feet.) Catherine will be joining us periodically to talk about old houses, new houses, sustainable houses and other topics.  You might remember her from Preservation Dallas , Urban Reserve or one of the two soon-to-be-opening Audubon centers .  She now spends a lot of time talking/lecturing/educating about how old houses, pre- air conditioning, were the original sustainable houses.

CE:God, Catherine, do you really like to sweat that much? Living in a home without A/C is like living in one giant hot flash!

CH: Candy, it’s like a spa facial, good for your pores.

Since I’m a House Princess — no marble around the tub means we are camping– I think Catherine is just what we need around here to bring in fresh, clean, un-airconditioned air through hand-cranked thermo windows to give us the down and dirty on green and preservation.

Welcome Catherine!

]]> http://dallasdirt.dmagazine.com/2008/10/09/house-porn-a-la-catherine-horsey/feed/ 4 http://dallasdirt.dmagazine.com/2008/10/07/homes-that-cant-be-built-in-little-forest-hills/ http://dallasdirt.dmagazine.com/2008/10/07/homes-that-cant-be-built-in-little-forest-hills/#comments Tue, 07 Oct 2008 22:08:20 +0000 Candy Evans http://dallasdirt.dmagazine.com/?p=1247 You may have heard the rumblings as far north as Preston and LBJ: the battle for a conservation district in Little Forest Hills. Come November, the City Plan Commission will scrutinize the plan, which goes to the City Council for a vote in December. Very hot issue. If the plan passes as proposed, here is a list of homes that can’t be built in Little Forest Hills including one we shot for our newest issue of D Home.

“I’ve heard from several well-placed sources that this home is grossly overpriced, even now with its price reduction. Also heard comments about unusual choices, etc. If you zoomed out on that pic, you’d also notice the neighbors homes look like 1970’s ranch houses. Great home if you want to stick out like a sore thumb!”

 I find this a fascinating comment. When we moved into our Hillcrest Estates neighborhood eight years ago, we were surrounded by 1950’s ranches, with the exception of one neighbor’s circa 1980’s home. Today we still have the ’80’s neighbor and the one on the other side, who is hardly ever at home (don’t get me started). We have one tick tacky ranch catty corner that has to go. This home is like Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard  after a plane crash. Once someone’s mid-century modern jewel, she moans for the dumpster. Not only has this home not been loved, it’s been abused — crystal meth, bad tricks. The day that house goes you can all come party chez moi. But I digress: my point is the others are gone. Vamoosh. Two ranches towards Northaven, adios. Ranch across the street, bye bye. More scrapers bit the dust further down the street. My point, which you already know, is that 4512 Isabella is a pioneer. Never mind those 1970’s ranches — unless we are all in bread lines with Warren Buffet and Bill Gates serving up soup, those houses will go eventually.