Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Rallying, we have had a meeting with a local designer (Richard Diamond), who knows this place inside out and laughs heartily at our original choice. That's not a view lot, he says. Nor will it give us a garden. What were the developers thinking, he wonders? With lots this small, there is rarely room for access, and driveways are taking up practically the whole of the front yards. He gives us the rundown on the area, and we are forced to look at alternatives. To me, the obvious move is to go one lot to the left – a bigger lot, with a similar view, flat with no apparent building difficulties. But in a bit of a hollow, perhaps destined to be surrounded by other houses. A starter's lot. A baby lot. To Stef, the obvious move is across the road – a much bigger lot, with a better view. Also flat, but elevated off the road by about 3 metres, which means, again, a whole heck of a lot of blasting to get a driveway up onto the level. A grown up lot, with issues and potential. I feel like a girl courted by two men, who can't make up her mind who to marry. One looks better on paper – bigger (aka bigger), richer (better resale value thanks to the view and size), better looking (nicer view). The other pales in comparison by all logical standards, but by being in that hollow it seems, well, settled in the landscape. It feels natural. Homey. The grown-up logical choice, being up on a pedestal of artifically-placed rock, feels haughty. If they were men my brain would say to go with the bigger lot; my heart with the smaller. And shouldn't we always go where the heart points? But I have promised Stef to go and stand on the larger lot for an hour tomorrow afternoon... perhaps I will grow to love it.