Showing posts with label old houses. Show all posts
Showing posts with label old houses. Show all posts

Friday, February 3, 2012

Old Houses in a Growing Town



I usually like photographing old homes in Provo. But this time around I went to Lehi, a nearby town where I did most of my growing up. While both have wonderful old homes, each city has developed with a different pattern.




For instance, an old neighborhood in Lehi is likely to have filled in more slowly. This makes it so that you are more likely to have a hundred year spread between one house and the next. This is great if the house you are looking at is an original farm house or a 20's bungalow. But not so great if it is a split entry or a McMansion.


This house is much newer than I usually take pictures of,
but the later addition of a porch created a much more
comfortable feel to the house.


Old areas of Provo are likely to have a seven foot or wider boulevard strip. This is a great spot that can handle large trees and gives a buffer between the road and the house. Lehi is more likely to have a dirt and gravel strip, suitable for parking only, between the side walk and the road. This does create a more open feel, but the potential for trees and flowers is greatly reduced.




Regardless, I enjoy the old structures in both places and hope that we will start building more houses that are up to being admired a hundred years from now.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Guerilla Gardening?






Despite my passion for native plants and edible landscapes (read permaculture), I make most of my living as a gardener by mowing lawns on foreclosed homes.

Although it is amazing what will stay alive in Utah's hot, dry summer in an unirrigated landscape, it is more amazing to see what food manages to survive. On a recent Monday I ate wheat, mulberries, and raspberries from empty houses.

Last year grapes, strawberries, walnuts, apples, and peaches were all on the menu in season. Not all of them were in prime condition, but most were very good.


Apricots, not quite ripe.
But that's the funny thing about unused properties, they are every bit as good as the ones the rest of us live on. They just aren't getting the same care.


Of course any care would increase the quantity and quality of the food.... You see where I'm taking this don't you? If every foreclosed or abandoned house had a neighbor or two that were 'helping', that is taking care of watering, pruning, or even planting, how much food could be produced?


Raspberries, I already ate the ripe ones.
Now, before I go any further, I must note that for this to be legal the property owner or their agent must give permission for such wild activities. The permission is hard to get and even if you get it, there is no protection for the plants or those who kept them alive when the house is sold.


Under the best conditions you would still have to share it with me and my fellow workers. Under the worst you could be prosecuted  for trespassing or other criminal activities, if you did not get proper approval.


But for the time being let's say it is taken care of, and good land is being put back to good use. If there is too much food produced, share it with the local homeless shelter. Nearby apartment dwellers could be invited to work plots and make better lives for themselves.


I realize that I sound utopian, but the reality is that anything not being used will deteriorate and crumble. By using it we make the world a better place.


Am I dreaming? Definitely, but since that is the only way to get to a better world, I'll stick with it. Would you like to join me? It will be worth it.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Old Houses


I love old houses. The charm, wit and character is rarely matched with new construction, despite the efforts of some contemporary designers and architects.

Part of the problem is that current construction practices affect the final project. How can you get the same feeling on a house if you replace bead board with vinyl or three layered stucco with a single stucco layer over foam insulation? 


A bigger concern to me is the design. Modern designers are masters of efficiency regarding cost and materials usage, as well as in creating seamless floor plans.

This design stagnation leads to houses that look and feel much the same and have no room for experimentation. And no room for the residents to flex into later. Have you ever gone into an old house and seen a space that isn't used and realize that it perfectly matches a need that you have? I have. It is a wonderful discovery.







I know, old houses aren't perfect, and they aren't for everyone. There certainly aren't enough around for us to all live in. But maybe, if we respect them and learn from them, we will make houses that are more pleasant for ourselves and our great-grandchildren.