SoBro Bungalow

The Plan

Dover

I've always loved the idea of catalogue homes. Several years ago, I did a cursory search for historic kit and plan homes in the Indianapolis area. Why? Just because. That's the kind of stuff I do for fun. Guess which one I didn't find? Mine.

Yup, the article confirms my house was built from a plan designed by the Architects' Small House Service Bureau, which was the American Institute of Architects' answer to Sears & Robuck and the like. I've looked through a book of ASHSB plans, and while the house descriptions are fun reads and chocked full of insight on the period and home details, I've not found my exact plan. And I may not. Apparently, one of the reasons to chose an ASHSB plan over competitors was because it could be altered. All a homeowner had to do was hire a local architect to make the desired tweaks, natch. 

Way More

I remember the first time I laid eyes on my house - a Dutch Colonial Revival. I was out for ice cream with the family and there was a house-for-sale flier sitting on the shop's counter. I picked it up because, well, I always pick up those fliers (drawing the ire of most sellers, I'm sure). But this one was different. This house seemed to be calling me. Silly because we were only talking about selling the bungalow. I showed the flier to my husband. He looked at it, and after a long pause, said, "Let's drive by." What?! OK!

That was the first of many, many drive-bys. I was obsessed, thinking someone would snap 'er up before I could list my house. Miraculously, that for sale sign was always still there.

I soon learned why. My realtor opened the front door, I stepped inside the lovely foyer with leaded glasses doors that lead to a sunny nook, and was pretty much instantly crushed. The home was, as my realtor delicately put it, in a state of "delayed maintenance." We left, and my heart hurt. 

I can admit this now: I continued to drive by the house. Its siren song just never stopped. Then one day the sign came down. I tried to move on. We listed and sold our house. We looked at other houses, comically many of them were Dutch Colonials. Apparently, I have a house type. We even made an offer on another house. Mercifully, it was rejected. Wrong house, wrong location, but we were feeling desperate. Not long after, this house came back on the market, and, well, you know the rest.

We went into this house knowing that there would be a lot to do, never imagining it would be way, way more than our worst expectations. I thought that this house would inspire a wealth of material to write about. Instead, over the past year or so, I've felt overwhelmed and deflated by this house. I've alternately loved and despised it. Not to mention that flooded basements, leaking windows and broken air conditioners don't really make great blog fodder. Some day, perhaps after lots of therapy, I'll be able to write about what we discovered in the crawl space.

On a whim a month ago, I called Indiana Landmarks to inquire about my home's history. Though hopeful, I knew the chances of finding anything were pretty slim. The research librarian, echoed that and dutifully took my phone number, promising to call me if she found anything. And she did. About five minutes later. Since then I've found my house listed in a book of historic homes and had the author send me this:

It's a story about my house from a 1928 edition of the Indianapolis Star. Folks, I have hit the old-house mother lode. Way, way more than I ever imagined.

Patience is a Virtue

Truly. Patience is a virtue, and it's clearly one I don't have. I decided to move the bookshelf above down a flight of stairs by myself today. It did not go well.

But if I could just slide it down the runner, I thought. The cat took one look at the situation and ran for cover. It was a lot heavier than I remembered, but then again I used to just roll it wherever I wanted it. 

Ah yes, the wheels. They don't really lend themselves to sliding. Two of the casters snapped off somewhere around the fourth or fifth step. The bummer of this entire situation is, well, see the previous sentence, and the bookshelf doesn't look good in its new location. It needs to go back upstairs. 

This is a Problem

The nook. It's my favorite spot in the house. I love the big windows and amazing light so much, I claimed it as my office.

However, do you see the awning in the window? Yes, right there. That's my neighbor's side porch. She's a lovely woman. Came over and introduced herself. Gave me the skinny on the neighborhood. Even brought over a neighborhood directory. (I live in a neighborhood with a directory!!!) So here's the rub: Lovely neighbor takes her morning coffee on the side porch, and I feel a little like I'm on television in the big picture window. It's awkward.

I need window treatments that give privacy but don't block the light and don't cover the architecture of the windows. Roman shades? Cafe curtains? Sheers? Nothing seems quite right. I am stumped. And working at my dining room table.

What I Would Have Done

If the craziness of the move were behind us, I would have liked to have sewn together some stars to make this easy garland.

Alas, chaos still reigns. I can't even find our flag, so we have to settle for some tiny flags from Target plunked in the yard.

Happy Fourth. 

(Photo via Martha Stewart)

Thinking Pink

(Image: Domino)

I'm thinking of heading in a different color direction from the last house. I still love blue, but the house seems to be asking for pink as an accent color. It may take some convincing, however.

Cottage Chic on the Cheap

(Image via NY Times)

I just read this story about a young couple, who bought a weekend home in the Catskills and renovated and decorated for less than $10,000. Most of the decor comes second hand -- Craigslist, family pieces and found items. Quite inspiring. See the slideshow here.

Closet Clean Up

(Photo via Real Simple)

I love this closet redo from Real Simple, especially the catchalls on the door from Kangaroom Storage. Mootsie has so many little trinkets. The barrettes alone are enough to drive a mama crazy. Right now, her closet is a mess. It's a reach in closet like this one, except instead of hanging rod, there's a funny thing that I'm pretty sure is original to the house. It's useless and has to go.

It's Wrong to Love Wallpaper This Much

I think I need this wallpaper from Ferm Living. Maybe for the nook.
At least something good has come from my near obsession: I've stumbled upon Ferm Living's blog, Clever Design. Clever, indeed. Good stuff there.

The New House

And so we begin anew in another house. Lots to do (starting with cleaning evident by the cleaning supplies that crept into the photos).