Nothing like a fresh coat of white paint.

As I noted in my previous post, I regret not getting more done this summer around the house. What did get done focused mostly on the backyard and pool area; while my efforts to get the front lawn back in order bore some fruit, it was not until September that I was really able to get to work on the front of the house.

As I noted in previous posts, I have been working to restore the fence that flanks both sides of the house. I was finally able to complete the restoration of the large post at the west side, and then continued sanding and repainting all the fence pickets in-between. As of this writing, I have completed three of the eight 8-foot sections of fencing. With the sides facing the front of the house, I applied a very high-quality latex, working it in with a brush; I may use my new paint sprayer for the rest, to save time.

Just need to define this flower bed a little more...

I think I have re-painted this fence maybe twice in 25 years; this was by far the most complete wire-brush-and-sanding job that I have ever done, so hopefully it will last for a while. The treated cross beams are fine; a few of the cedar pickets (especially where they have been in contact with the ground) have seen some rot. This will be hidden by a treated 1” x 4” that I am adding at the bottom, which will not only look better buy hold back some of the soil and mulch I am adding in front.


Thus, I gave the flower beds (which reside in front of these fences) a thorough weeding and tilling—since it seems grass grows better in a flower bed than it does in the yard—and they had also been invaded by assorted weeds and vinca vines that had creeped in.

Yeah - that's what I'm talkin' about.

This also gave me an opportunity to consider a much-needed update to my planting scheme. When we first built the house, the trees in front were not so large, and the flower beds there got a lot more sunlight throughout the day. As a result, the tall tiger-lillies we inherited form my mother-in-law’s garden did wonderfully, combined with a nice purple spiderwort and a few small daylilies.

Time has taken its toll, however. Only two of the sections get sufficient sunlight these days, and the tiger lilies have more recently suffered from some kind of blight, which renders the bottom of the stalks and leaves yellow and brown. It may be a lack of oxygen or a similar issue, since they had never been divided. Remembering the wonderful old hollyhocks we had at the back of our old house, I am planning on replacing the tiger lilies with those—a more “English-looking” garden flower. I’ll leave the spiderwort in front of these and may also include a few four-o-clocks, which we also had at our old house. On the west side, something else will be called for, since the big oak tree out front (a beautiful specimen, with a trunk straight enough for a ship’s mast) casts that side of the yard in shade/semi-shade much of the day. I’m thinking maybe planting some foxglove on this side, and perhaps something else that can tolerate the light conditions.

These three beds are each approximately 8 feet wide and 3 feet deep. Till now, I had simply edged them with a spade, but to keep out the weeds I am considering a raised border of some sort. My first inclination is to use timber; I’m leaning toward using 2” x 8” with the bottom 2” buried. This will leave about 6” above ground, but then I am also planning to route the boards with joint grooves to give it a stone/masonry look—then staining it a beige/gray to match the house foundation color. I need to work in a couple inches of improved soil, compost and leaf mulch as well, so the raised border will help hold it in.

If I can just get all this remaining work done before the snow falls, I guess I’ll be satisfied. There’s more on my to-do list, but it’s possible that those parts-and-pieces will have to be built over the winter and installed in the spring. Even that will be a challenge, since I have a basement upgrade to get back to…

Similar treatment. Totally different plan.

I recently came across this Toronto Star story about two couples in Canada who were involved in a lawsuit regarding the appearance of their houses. Apparently the owners of a 1935-era Tudor Revival home—which they had spent a lot of money to renovate in 2006—had many of its features “copied” by owners of a newly-built neighboring house nearby. The owners of the older home sued the couple who built the new house for $1.5 million in damages, including $20,000 in copyright damages and $1 million in punitive damages.
The owners of the existing home claimed that the neighbors copied a number of features from their home, including similar gray stonework, the same shade of blue on the windows, similar treatments in the gables and other unique design cues that made their house “one of the most well-known and admired houses in the neighborhood” - according to the lawsuit.

LEFT: Couldn't spring for a proper chimney pot, eh?

Of course, I am aware that house designs and plans can be copyrighted, although it is seldom an issue for the courts; it’s not easy to prove infringement, since even the average builder would not normally think to copy a plan in such careful and exact detail to leave no doubt as to its origin.

In this case, the plans of the houses are totally different—only some of the architectural details were copied, and I don’t think using a particular stone type or paint color constitutes a violation of copyright. If you look at some of the side-by-side photos in the article, you’ll see some clear similarities, but you’ll also see clear differences as well.

Both couples claimed to have been inspired by Tudor architecture, and that is clear, though the results vary in their quality. A stepped stone or brick chimney is a common Tudor feature—you can’t copyright it.  Arched doorways and stone construction are not uncommon either. The owners of the older home claim that the copycat house “devalued” their own, but I don’t buy it.

Shape is all these two have in common.

When we built our house, I was the first in the neighborhood to use “scalloped” shingle-style siding over a prominent portion of our house. Shortly thereafter, another house built around the corner included that feature over its center gable, as did another home several doors down the street that was remodeled a few years ago. Did they copy what we did? I don’t know—but even if they did, I would take it as a compliment. I think that would have been a more mature and appropriate response here.

As for the builders of the new house, I really can’t imagine why anyone with a brain would slavishly copy features of a nearby house like paint color, adding weatherboarding to a gable, etc. without looking at other options. If you’re a Tudor-lover, there are too many sources of inspiration out there to have to resort to something so craven. Seems like a lack of imagination. Or just laziness.

Sadly, this summer ended up being far less productive than I had hoped. Reviewing my “to-do” list of items that needed addressing, it seems I have only been able to complete a few of them. Now there is only the hope that the coming Fall may serve to be a more productive season as far as the house is concerned.

No, this is not the reason for my lack of productivity. A nice addition to my tiki bar, thanks to the good people at Windsor & Eton Brewery.

A large part of this was due to our trip to the UK in mid-May; between holiday planning and the weather upon our return, this set me back about 3-4 weeks in terms of my usual summer work schedule. In recent years, we’ve been able to open the pool during the first week of May, with another week or two after that to handle annual chores like cleaning the patios, doing touch-up painting on the decks and some outdoor furniture—which all has to be hauled out of storage—tidying up the perennial beds, setting up our tiki bar on the back deck and bringing all the seasonal decorative items out of the garage, shed and basement. This is then followed by planting of tropical-looking annuals in beds and in pots all around the pool.

New this year was an effort to grow more grass in the backyard bare spots (initially, this appeared to be successful, but a hot, dry July and August rendered these efforts fruitless) and I also wanted to test some of that specially formulated spray paint on our plastic outdoor furniture, which was in serious need of restoration. Our four white chaises were seriously stained and dirty—totally beyond cleaning—and I also wanted to paint a few other items (a cooler and a trash bin) a dark brown. It’s also important to note that all of this work was limited to the backyard, which is where we spend most of our time during the summer. Other than fertilizing, raking and mowing, planting a few annuals in the porch planters and setting some pots out on either side of the steps, little happens in the front of the house until the backyard is totally in order.

As it turned out, June was spent by the time this work was all completed; after another week of enjoying the fruits of my labor, I took the first weekend in July to head up to Michigan for some camping, sightseeing and volunteer activity. Two weeks later, my daughter visited from New York for a weekend, and four weeks after that my wife and I went to visit her again. Obviously, no work got done during those periods. Take away another weekend or so with cool or wet weather, and here I am now considering when to close the pool and start packing everything up for the winter. Sigh.

This is how the "She-Shed" turned out.  The space behind the curtain on the left is still needed for storage.

So what did get done? Aside from regular yearly maintenance, I was able to:

1) Rebuild, reinforce and re-paint a large bench I had built for the pool area some years ago.

2) I successfully re-painted all four of our plastic chaise lounges, in addition to a large cooler/cabinet and a trash bin. This turned out wonderfully; all the items look brand new.

3) I was able to finish staining the back of the backyard swing I moved about a year ago, and fully restored the carved wooden sign on it (dated 1997) that says Mom’s Swing.

4) Got a coat of paint on the small oriental bridge in the garden.

5) Repaired, added decorative trim and repainted a small open book case that sits next to the tiki bar on the deck. This serves as a summer home to decorative items like tiki mugs, candles, photos and other exotic knick-knacks.

6) Painted the inside of our backyard shed so that my wife could use most of it as a “She-Shed” during the summer season. The inside walls (and the roof framing)  is painted a light seafoam green; I had put in a sheet vinyl floor previously, and with a few decorative items and an area rug, it looks pretty good. Since I still need about four feet of the interior for storage (the shed is 8’ x 12’) I hung 2 color-coordinated shower curtains across part of the space to hide things like extra tables, chairs and other items that we still keep there. Come fall, the “She-Shed” goes away as we pack the shed with stuff again.

There is still much to do. I think I’ll cover that in my next post…

Once again we take a brief moment to talk about one of the books in our collection; I have wanted this for some time, but was only recently able to obtain it on Ebay for a low price. Always a great fan of Country Life, I collected many issues years ago when it was commonly available at the local news stand (I never could bring myself to spring for an annual subscription) and I still keep some of these scattered about in the house. Lacking more recent issues, I was happy to report a successful effort to grab a single copy at Heathrow before we returned home from our recent UK trip.

I finished reading this book right before we left, and though it certainly relates a lively and interesting story of the magazine’s history and significance, it does an excellent job of weaving that history into a vivid panorama of Britain during the last 100 (now 120) years. It’s hard for me to imagine that this book has actually been out for so long; nevertheless, the subject matter is as essential today as it was in 1997. With a fairly substantial production run, it is still easily available from online booksellers such as Amazon and Abebooks.

As one might expect, the photography—which was primarily pulled from the magazine’s archives—is excellent. The vintage black-and-white images are so expressive and so “of their time” that they capture the feeling of their era in a way that modern color photography cannot.

Once surprising aspect of the book, and this is a tribute to Sir Roy Strong, is that it is an easy and comfortable read; though it is large and fairly substantial, the average reader would be able to get through it straightaway. The author pulls no punches in his observations regarding the magazine and its editorial positions; though helpful in preserving the country’s heritage and great estates in its early decades, he describes them as outdated and reactionary in the post war period.

Controversies aside, the book provides a useful record of the magazine’s history and outlines its role as a cultural icon. Outlining a long list of editors and contributors (including Strong himself) and surveying 100 years of social change, editorial policies, preservation issues and matters of taste, this book provides a great insight into a central period of English architectural and social history.

Country Life, 1897-1997  An English Arcadia
Hardcover: 128 pages
ISBN-10: 0752210548
ISBN-13: 978-0752210544
Product Dimensions:  11.8 x 9.2 x 1 inches

Let me first come clean and explain that I am not really a wine enthusiast. I do drink and enjoy it at times; usually at a meal, when paired with the right food. When my wife and I travelled to Napa a couple of years ago, I loved the wineries. I loved sampling the wines—especially when they served them with some really tasty chocolates.

Nevertheless, when it comes right down to it, I am a Beer Guy. Not the vapid swill that passed for beer during most of the last 50 years, but better quality craft beer and exports.

Finding this door for $50 was one of the best things about this project.

My wife likes wine, but generally she prefers very sweet wines—Muscato, Prosecco, ice wines or an occasional Reisling. For the most part, these are not the kind of wines that hang around very long—or that improve significantly with aging.

So, why a wine cellar, you may ask?

Well, for one thing, we have friends who like to drink wine, maybe before, during or after dinner. So it’s always a good idea to have some on hand.

In addition, I planned to store some craft beers in the cellar as well—in particular, those high-gravity stouts, porters, ales and barley wines that do age and mellow well.



I also wanted a place to store and display related items, like glassware, books on wine and beer, and related memorabilia, in addition to some of my home brewing equipment.

Last of all, I think the house deserved a wine cellar. And why not? I had a perfect space under the stairs, and I thought if done reasonable well, it would be a nice feature in terms of future resale. So there’s the logic.

THE PROCESS

First I had to enclose the area under the basement stairs with a stud wall, which was pretty straightforward. The main consideration here was the position of the doorway, ensuring plenty of full height opening clearance on the right side while leaving enough room to squeeze in some built-in bottle/book/glassware shelves on the left. Inside, on the right (underneath the descending stairway) I’d have room for an old wooden cabinet that fit nicely into the space, leaving some room for hidden storage behind. The whole space used for the wine cellar was about 3.5 ft deep and about 7.25 feet wide.

Clearly we require more wine. All good things in time.

The stud wall went up without too much trouble; the best thing I did here was finally invest in a nail gun, which made things so much faster and easier. I must admit my drywall skills leave something to be desired—the main problem being that I didn’t use enough mud at first, and then spread it out with a blade that was not really wide enough. This makes it necessary to go over the joints more than is necessary, and sand more than usual. I suppose the results show a little here and there. Next time, I resolve to get the proper tools and perhaps do a skim coat over the whole surface.

Once this part was complete, I set to do some carpentry. Most of the large 22oz beer bottles would store on wooden shelves I was building in—since beer is supposed to store vertically, unlike wine. For reasons I already mentioned, I didn’t require a lot of wine storage, but I did go the dramatic route and build a 6 foot tall vertical display that holds about 12 bottles horizontally against the wall—so you can see the labels. As a supplement to this, I have a small wine rack on top of the cabinet that holds an additional 3 or 4 bottles.

The surfaces of the tiny room feature various materials which all seem to go together. The wood shelves and trim inside are mostly mahogany-stained pine. There is some cork on the back wall between the upper and lower shelves on the left, and about 18” of the back wall (originally sheathed with paneling) is now covered in some 30-year-old wallpaper that I saved from the time I worked at Wallpapers-to-Go. It was a heavy, saddle brown paper with nice images of vintage French wine labels; I knew I’d eventually find a spot for it…and I did.

Most of the remaining back wall is solid concrete in a rough molded brick pattern; this was painted a dark tan. One advantage this offers is that the concrete remains cool at all times, and with the wine being stored on this wall, it remains at a fairly even temperature. I also used a bit of the wine wallpaper underneath the stairs on the right, trimmed out in some mahogany-stained pine. At about the 5.5-foot level, I hung a roll-up blind down from the bottom of a riser, so it extends to the floor. This serves as somewhat of a “false wall” behind my storage cabinet, which is about 30’ high, and I use the 2’ of useable space behind the blind to store (and hide) large seasonal items, like a couple of  Christmas tree boxes.

The shelves provide lots of room for wine & beer books, and bottled beer storage.

I managed to get a open box of premium vinyl wood planks at the Habitat store for about $10—just enough to cover the 18 square feet or so I needed in a nice dark brown. I haven’t decided what to do for the ceiling yet, but I’m thinking some wood, maybe pallet boards.

Of course, all this effort goes for naught if it’s hidden behind a door, and I hit the jackpot at the Habitat store once again, nabbing a beautiful wooden 30" French door for just $50. It was already painted white (and really didn’t need re-painting) and best of all, it even had beveled panes of glass!

I have tested some temporary lighting, and it’s clear that some nice wall spots inside the little room would make for a very dramatic look, so I’m thinking a couple of small units on the ceiling.

We completed the look with a couple of framed prints I made—they are some of the places we really enjoyed during our visit to the Napa Valley. I’ve added a couple of other chotchkes, like an ancient beer bottle capper, but am still looking for just the right thermometer to hang in here somewhere…

A Tudor Revival interior that embraces its unique details and original woodwork. Courtesy Stonewood, LLC

I was heartened to see a story on Houzz the other day regarding the continued popularity of the Tudor Revival style in American homes, including an outline of its basic visual elements. Architect Steven Randal does a fine job of distilling the style's most essential design cues, and best of all, the story includes some excellent photographic examples of contemporary Tudor Revival interiors. The collection of images included with the article fully dispels the notion that these rooms are dark and dusty museum set-pieces.

Another room that blends with contemporary style. Courtesy Margot Hartford Photography

The story was refreshing for another reason (one which I have noted more than once) regarding the “typical” rooms one sees when visiting Houzz. More and more, it seems that almost every room featured on the website is bathed in white; white woodwork, white cabinets, white floors, white furniture…all combined with a very trendy, “hip” design aesthetic that looks like it was inspired by any one of a hundred DIY-design-craft -blogs. I’ve found this to become fairly tiresome, and it’s only remedied by entering a more specific site search for rooms offering more traditional styles, more color, or more of anything not defined by “trendy.”

As I noted, the photos accompanying this story are helpful, in that they offer a clean and contemporary look that embraces each home’s Tudor details instead of painting them out (in white) or de-emphasizing them. This is not always an easy problem to solve, as we will eventually be looking to update the interiors of our own house, and need all the inspiration we can find.

You can reference the full article HERE.

When I first created this website, I wanted to have someplace where I could talk about the kinds of houses and buildings I loved, remember the people who designed and built them, recognize people who maintain, live in and restore them, and survey related topics in design, the arts, lifestyle and popular culture—including books.

Having utilized much of this accumulated information in the design of my own home—I have chosen from time to time to write about some of the projects I’ve worked on since building our house almost 25 years ago.  Some of the posts have involved thoughts on decoration, some are how-to’s (or maybe how-I’s) - that discuss things I’ve had to fix; other posts have simply touched on my own thoughts about building and design.

This is a bar-height island I am building in the basement using 2" x 4" framing and some used bi-fold doors. More on this project later...

As I’ve mentioned before, while I had very specific ideas about the design of my own house, budgetary issues (I was 34 when we built, and modestly employed) forced a number of compromises, some of which I have been able to remedy over the years. Many still remain, and I will increasingly use the website to discuss how they are being addressed, for after all—when is a house ever truly finished? When we built, I knew I would have to plan for the long term, assuming that some materials, designs and finishes would make an appearance at a later date. Sometimes much later, as it turns out.

I am a notorious procrastinator, so the fault is mostly mine. After some deliberation, I find myself in a good position now to make it down the home stretch and finally get things as I originally envisioned them years ago, when I set plans to sheets of vellum (yes, no 3D renders for me) and started searching for a general contractor.

So, interspersed among the posts on historical houses, old architecture books, preservation/heritage issues and related commentary—you can expect to see more “hands-on” bits and pieces about things I am doing inside the house.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t admit that I have clearly noticed the popularity of so many design and “how-to” blogs; so I feel it is a natural course to develop this approach as I go along. It’s a chance to further explain—in practical terms—how I try to integrate whatever knowledge I have accumulated and my own design sensibilities into the projects I take on inside these four walls.

If, Dear Reader, you care to comment, share your thoughts or experiences, or ask questions, I will sincerely appreciate it, and would love to hear from you.

When talking or writing about Tudor Revival homes here in The States, it’s clear that in terms of quality, they clearly run the gamut—from beautiful and authentic-looking examples like Akron’s Stan Hywet Hall, to decent-looking suburban homes, to less-convincing modern interpretations—and then to what can only be considered abominations, like a Tudor ranch or split-level. Whatever type you might happen to encounter, it’s best to always be ready for a surprise.

Sometimes it's all in the details...

So it was on a recent winter Sunday. There being no football (it was the week before the Super Bowl) the wife asked if I would go with her to look at some very large “open houses” for sale on the other side of town. Once in a great while, we do this for pure entertainment—or what I like to call “shits & giggles”—to see what is out there on the market and perhaps collect ideas for our own home.

All of the homes we visited were significantly larger than our present home, and about three times as costly. None were really practical for us, since investing in a far larger house at a time when most couples are getting ready to downsize for retirement doesn’t make sense. Nevertheless, we got in the car and headed out.

Only two of the homes we visited were really worthy of note; both were Tudor Revivals, and both had both good and not-so-good elements that caught my eye. They were built almost 20 years apart (1971 and 1988) and both had some interesting stories to tell.

Not a bad looking house at all - considering it's a relatively recent effort. Almost there.

The first of these houses I remembered quite well, having seen it well before I built my own house in 1992. The exterior is in excellent shape after almost 30 years, and I must say that in terms of overall design and massing, it is one of the better Tudor Revival-style homes I have seen built in recent times. The roof pitches are fine, the half-timbering work is reasonably robust—not thin and chintzy like so many other recent examples—the plan is angled and irregular, and the stone and brickwork is competently done. Parts of the second floor are even jettied-out over the ground floor, which is also nice to see.

It is not perfect. The house could stand some more detail in the timberwork. The windows are a little too tall, and feature a combination of both square and the cliché diamond-pattern grilles that are always too large and out of scale. Worst of all, they are all white, when they should be the same dark brown as the timber. The overhanging jetties also lack any corbels at the ends or other supporting structure, which gives them a stark and unfinished character.

Overall, the exterior provides an example of a fine, custom-built house (I would assume the work of an architect) that could have greatly benefitted from a little more care and research. I think a lot of American designers use houses built in the 1920’s and 30’s as traditional design guides, instead of resourcing original English examples or even old pattern and style books, like Garner & Stratton’s Domestic Architecture of England during the Tudor Period. The result is often a loss of detail and in less adept hands, some clumsy or incomplete results. The good thing about the exterior of this home is that it could be easily remedied with a few additional elements.

The door is nice. Not a fan of the parquet. The stair rail belongs in a colonial house.

As solid as the exterior was, the interior featured little if any historic detail. There was plenty of brown oak, yes, and a nice arched front door—but inside I found the traditional-style woodwork you’d see in any nice home; a spindly staircase with thin balusters and a curled volute newel detail at the bottom and the ubiquitous six-panel colonial doors. Where one might have employed a Tudor arch, or even a curved arch over a wide doorway, the builder had substituted rather crude-looking openings with the upper corners cut and cased at a 45-degree angle. The home’s fireplaces were either stone or brick, but were utterly plain and ordinary, and could have been found in almost any home. There were some nice built-ins and storage, but nothing extraordinary, though the master bath did have some very fine English-style cabinetry. One interesting feature was the slim doorway/balcony in the master bedroom that overlooked the two-story great room—a historical nod to the “squint” or “chaperone” window found in many ancient Tudor homes.

The way the cased opening here is handled leaves a lot to be desired.

All in all, for about $650k it was still a very nice house on a large and attractive treed lot, but one that deserved a little more attention in terms of detail. I was thinking another $50k of proper detailing and upgrades could bring it into line.

I found the other Tudor Revival home on our tour to be a great curiosity. My first impression was that someone had taken a rather straightforward two-story colonial home and tacked a brick Tudor-style entry porch onto the façade. I see this feature on a fair amount of Tudor Revival houses, both new and old—when the entry roof pitch is too steep, it borders on the cartoonish. This one was a pretty close call. The front was extended a little to the right, ending in a long side-entry garage featuring a second story with shed dormers. The windows were too large for the style. From the street, it did not appear to be such a happy composition.

One of the only houses I've seen that looks better up close than at a distance.

Going up the driveway and standing up close, however, I found the overall effect to be far more pleasing. Closer inspection revealed that the ground floor was clad in fine, old-style brick all around—the same as on the high-peaked entry front. The upper story was covered in rough clapboards, but the edges were cut in a wavy, irregular style and finished in a very dark, almost black stain. The stonework around the entrance was very fine as well, and the doorway was flanked by some very large, black iron torchieres that looked like they were a hundred years old. Clearly, whoever selected the materials knew what they were doing, because the resulting combination of colors and textures felt very natural and appropriate.

Remember, this was a 1970’s house. I didn’t expect much from the interior other than harvest gold Formica and tired, avocado carpet. I was right on that count, and the furniture still in the house was from the same era. It was almost like a time machine.



The plaster fireplace surround and crown molding was superb - and terrifically Tudor!

But here again, there were many surprises. There were beautiful, authentic plaster details found throughout the house, and best of all, they were actual Tudor designs, including a splendid mantel, excellent cornice and crown moldings, ceiling medallions—each one looked like it had been picked out of a 1920’s catalogue. The doors were solid wood, and were of the appropriate 8-panel Tudor-style. Some of the rooms featured coffered ceilings or peaked ceilings with beams, and a couple of the bedrooms combined that with walls paneled in wide, hardwood boards. I had mixed feelings about the foyer stairway, it was broad and curving—and open to the basement level as well as above. Rather than wood, the stair had a curved iron railing, which would probably look much better if refinished in black rather than its current funky 70’s gold. Removing the carpet on the stairs would help too, I am sure. Then again—there was carpet just about everywhere; being a 70’s house, I wondered if there was hardwood underneath any of it.

Peaked ceiling...and paneled with real hardwood boards...not the cheap stuff you'd expect.

The kitchen and bathrooms all needed to be re-done. The fixtures and cabinetry, while clean and in very good shape, were old and outdated. The house even had an elevator, and the Realtor whispered to us that there was a secret staircase that went from the owner’s suit up to the attic and down to the basement. A secret staircase! How Totally Tudor of them.

Exterior aside, I left that house being quite impressed by the attention to detail and high standards of the original builder and owner. Though the exterior elevation left something to be desired, some of the interior details were totally unexpected. I can’t imagine many of the architectural products were commonly available when the house was built—as Tudor homes were seriously out of style in 1970. They must not have been that easy to source. Even today, with the help of the internet and its worldwide reach, it’s not always so easy, as I have noted previously.

Now if you combined the exterior design of the first house with the attention to detail of the second house, you'd really have something.

As I said, always prepare to be surprised.

The following story is somewhat of a “catch up”—since the process of improving and finishing our basement has involved years of procrastination, interspersed with periods of creativity, hard work, rudimentary planning, adaptive reuse and carpentry. Here goes…

I suppose I am not alone in saying that the state of our basement (or cellar, if you prefer) has always been a sore spot in our household. It seems this is the case for many homeowners.

When we built the house almost 25 years ago, the basement served only as storage for a growing accumulation of little-used “stuff” and a place to do laundry. The best thing about it was that due to the poured concrete walls and our well-drained lot, it was always dry as a bone.

About 15 years ago, I embarked on a project that divided the open space into a couple of workable areas devoted to specific tasks. First of these was a workshop for myself, which included the mechanical systems like the furnace and water heater, followed by another area that was used for storage and laundry. The storage and laundry areas were enclosed by simple stud-framed walls. The workshop was a slightly different matter—the “wall” separating it from the rest of the basement was simply formed from 3 large matching bookcases and a desk/bookcase unit, all connected together, then with the 2-foot gap between the top of the cases and the floor joists above filled in with 2’’ x 4’’ framing. A 32” gap between the bookcases became a convenient doorway, and the upper stud-framed portions sections above the bookcases were covered in paneling. The result looks like a wall of built-in units, which they truly are—and since they are not load bearing, they fit their purpose just fine.

The storage room I had created included a half-dozen large steel shelving units, which were filled rather quickly. After a few years, it became clear that more storage was needed for the overflow, so I built in some closets toward the front of the house, near the foot of the stairs. This area was relatively convenient to the kitchen, and would offer a fine place for my wife to store some of her larger serving items like large chafing dishes and pans, food warmers and seasonal serving and entertaining accessories that she uses just a few times a year.

Originally, I had intended this closet wall—which was about 10’ across—to include a central 4’ wide, 2’ deep inset where I had planned to place yet another one of my many bookshelves. This would have been flanked by a storage closet on each side. Unfortunately, once I had already framed the wall for this, The Boss said she preferred a whole wall of closet storage, and the inset was walled across and another door added. The end result looks fine but the change in plans on-the-fly resulted in a wall of three 24” bi-fold doors where two 36” bi-fold doors would have saved installation time and been slightly more practical. Henceforth, I resolved to consult The Boss prior to framing.

That covers most of the preliminaries up to the present time, with the exception of the wine cellar built under the stairs. That feature deserves a post of its own, and that’s where we will continue this saga…

Decorative plaque - provided by TudorArtisans.com - USA

If you are interested in architectural and interior design of the Tudor and Elizabethan periods, or you’re looking to restore a home built in a revival of these styles, one of the primary challenges is to find appropriate materials here in the States. Eighty years ago, it was easy to source such items as plaster cornice and mouldings, fireplaces, brackets, corbels, light fixtures, hardware and furniture that would look right in a Tudor-revival home. Today, there is little available. Other than the handful of legacy remnants available from old line US suppliers like Decorators Supply or Fischer & Jirousch, almost no one makes them anymore, aside from high end custom crafters and cabinetmakers.

Today, most suppliers offer a range of classically-inspired products that would fit well into a colonial or Georgian home, but provide almost nothing that is suitable to an earlier time period. Whether it’s a chair rail moulding, a wooden mantel, or even a wooden interior door—the choices are generally limited to very common traditional designs. Think of egg-and-dart, dentil mouldings, colonial casings or the ubiquitous colonial six-panel door and you know what I mean.

Even in my own house, built in 1992, I was limited to these sort of items in terms of availability and budget. I did demand a rather chunky staircase balustrade and had a very large, custom newel post built—I also had a custom mantelpiece made for the family room that was essentially Arts & Crafts in design. Any other resulting detail items I could manage were best described as Victorian (small carved wooden brackets in the dining/living room openings, and faux-plaster ceiling medallions over the kitchen and dining room lights. My doors were six-panel colonial, since the only other affordable and easily-obtainable alternative was a plain surface hollow-core slab door.



Staircase - courtesy Distinctive Country Furniture LTD - UK

As it turned out, the result was ok; many of these items might have been found in similar combination in an “Old English” house of an earlier time—particularly here in America, where styles were often blended together. As time goes on and I embark on future projects, I may remedy this situation to some extent, as far as time and budget allow.

If one has the means to import items from the UK, the issue is not quite as severe. A better selection is available, not to mention salvage items available from both online and brick-and-mortar vendors. In addition, my Twitter feed is full of highly skilled craftsmen who work in stone, plaster, glass, iron and wood, and almost any of them can create something both appropriate and beautiful—for a commensurate price. Sadly, the exchange rate and shipping across the Atlantic remain serious considerations, but for many, this remains a worthy option.

For those who are fearless, and who possess some level of skill and imagination, the remaining alternative is to make these items yourself. If one is able to obtain at least one appropriate decorative item, it is not so hard to make a mold and cast (in plaster or resin) the additional number required. Originals can be shaped in clay, or carved from wood, if one has the patience and requisite skill. Even if one lacks the ability to do hand-work, modern technology makes it possible to model a decorative piece using 3-dimensional software and send a file to a woodshop with a CNC router that can carve the item from a block of wood in a matter of minutes. Not inexpensive, but often less costly than paying a craftsman to make it by hand.

Lovely medieval floor chest - courtesy Early Oak Reproductions - UK

Perhaps the best solution is to use a combination of all these methods when it comes to sourcing decorative items for your period home. Where common or traditional materials can be made to “fit the bill”—feel free to use them and flip the resulting savings into cash that can be used to purchase those few specialty “feature” items that will set your project apart.

Likewise, do not be afraid to try your hand at creating a decorative detail yourself. If it doesn’t turn out quite as perfect as you would have liked, you don’t have to use it in your entrance foyer; integrate it into a bedroom, a back hall, or even a basement rec room—places where any shortcomings will be slightly less visible.

Stone carved head - courtesy Nick Roberson - UK

I would also suggest that at some point you spend the money and have a craftsman build or create some feature item that you can integrate into your interior or exterior design. It may only be a single door, a carving for a fireplace, a plaster panel or a bit of iron hardware, but it will add both value and pride to your finished project. In this age of technology, traditional crafts cannot be allowed to disappear, and it is important that we support them so they will be available to future generations. Today’s best craftsmen work hard to learn their trade and spend many hours researching proper design and technique—whether it involves carving stone, building furniture or modelling in plaster. The results of this speak for themselves. Make use of them if you can.

Ben Taggart with his model of Henry VIII's Nonesuch Palace.

I’ve been interested in model building ever since I was a child, and even today still dabble in it from time to time—sometimes for historical miniatures wargaming, or building scenery for a slot car track in the basement.

I suppose this is why I can appreciate the magnificent skill that Ben Taggart displays with his highly detailed architectural models. My first introduction to his work was seeing a photo of one of his most impressive works—a miniature recreation of Henry VIII’s Nonesuch Palace, which is now on display in South London. I suppose I was so overwhelmed by the well-researched vision of Henry’s lost palace that I did not stop to consider the time, effort and craftsmanship required to actually build the model. Consider this a remedy to that oversight.



One of Ben's wall-mounted models

Ben applied his research and modelling skills to projects large and small. On the more modest side, he does unique, hand-framed, low-relief models of houses by commission. These present somewhat of a challenge due to the limitations in depth, so some elements of a home may be foreshortened to fit inside the frame. Nevertheless, the finished examples are quite fine to behold and would be a welcome addition to any homeowner’s wall.


On a more advanced level, Ben tackles larger, full 3-dimensional “house portraits” for clients as well; fully-detailed and capturing the full color and texture of special buildings that are cherished by their owners. Using wood as the primary material, Ben also utilizes fiberglass, plaster, plastic and brass to achieve a remarkable level of detail in each model—a process that may take several weeks or even months, depending on the size and complexity of the project.

The Nonesuch project represents Mr. Taggart’s range of specialist museum work, which is truly impressive. Besides the Nonesuch Palace model produced for Friends of Nonesuch, he has also created a scale model of the Auschwitz concentration camp for the Imperial War Museum’s holocaust exhibit and a brilliant model of the reconstructed Roman Baths for the City of Bath museum. All of these works represent many months of painstaking research and effort, all of which produce a significant “wow” factor wherever they are installed.

To see more of Ben’s work, be sure to visit his website at modelhouses.co.uk 

For owners who wish to commemorate a special house, government or business planning groups who might benefit from a 3-dimensional rendering of a project, or museums desiring a very special attraction, we are convinced that Mr. Taggart offers the commensurate attention to detail and skill needed to pull it off.

Sometimes a fence is more than just a fence. When I built our house back in 1992, I needed something to help “enclose” the small space created when I pushed the garage back about 15 feet from the front of the house. With an entry to the kitchen placed in-between and room for a small patio on either side of the driveway, the result was a modest “courtyard” that begged to be enclosed by a fence of some sort.

I eventually settled on a white picket fence, which runs only about 8 feet on either side of the driveway, connecting to the house at one side and ending at the property line on the other, then turning back along the boundary there for about 15 feet before ending even-up with the front of the garage. The result was a nice, semi enclosed space, where I could keep a table and chairs on one side and storage/waste bins on the other, all hidden behind a 3 foot fence.

To frame it all off properly, I asked the fence contractor to include some large gate posts on either side of the driveway; something about five feet high and reasonably substantial—about 8” to 12” square. I may have given him a rough sketch, but the design he came up with was almost exactly what I was looking for.

Here you can see the way the fence was designed to wrap around the house and tie it into the landscape.

Before he had started on the project, I had looked at the plans and decided that all of this going on at one side of the house needed to be balanced by something on the other side. As a result, I added an 8 foot length of fence (and a gate post that matched those on the other side) on the opposite side of the house; this also turned at the property line and went back about 24 feet along the boundary, enclosing a small part of the yard surrounding our enclosed porch/garden room. Eventually, this area hidden behind the fence would become known to our children as The Secret Garden.

I was rather happy with the finished result—the fence really served to “anchor” the house and integrate it into the landscape. It also made it appear larger, since it visually stretched the house and the attached fence all the way across the 90 foot lot.

Maintenance & Durability
While the pickets were of cedar and the rest of the fence framing were of pressure-treated lumber, I was concerned that the three large gateposts might be a long term problem due to the fact that their upper portions were not constructed from treated lumber, but shop built off site from standard 2” thick framing pine. They were well-built, with mitered corners, neat moldings and tight joints, but I knew eventually that the weather (and the carpenter ants) might take their toll.

You can see how the upper portion has taken a real beating.

With plenty of paint and stain, the large wooden columns held up pretty well for the first dozen years or so; eventually, however, the top sections and surrounding trim began to rot. Wood filler, calk, and additional paint helped me get through another few years, and the last season or so I even resorted to applying duct tape and a thick coating of FlexSeal ™ sprayed over the worst parts.

This wasn’t the only issue. Many of the nails used to construct these columns were rusting away, with the result that the lower portions—which were built from 1” thick pressure treated lumber—were coming loose from the bottom of the posts, too. As for the balance of the fence, it was still in good shape; the cedar posts would just need a light sanding and maybe a few nails here and there, and the other standard 4x4 posts were solid as a rock. Nevertheless, as I looked at the fence this spring, I knew that it was time for a major restoration.

Planning & Materials
The ground post anchors that the large columns were built upon were still sound; the fluted sides of the columns were cedar, and in very good shape, as was the edge molding at the corners, which only needed a few new nails. Even the horizontal tops of the posts and the finials were not rotted—some straightening, a screw here and there, and some sanding and re-sealing with silicone caulk would bring them up to snuff.

The upper column panels and the molded trim were another story. They had to go, and not wanting to do this job again, I purchased some Azek PVC trim to do the repair work.

The material is not cheap, but it is a dream to work with—it saws better than wood and takes screws better than wood, too. I wouldn’t use it in every application, but here, where it is painted white anyway and is so exposed to the elements, I have no reservations.

Rebuilt, Re-fastened, caulked and new paint.

I eschewed the mitered corners on that large upper column panels and used butt joints this time around. Again, being painted, I think the result looks just fine. I did miter the upper trim corners carefully, and they look better than the original.

As for the bottom of the posts, the mitered 1” thick panels were re-attached with some new screws and also some stainless L-brackets screwed in at each corner. Not quite as neat as the original, but very secure and will end up being hidden by paint and the flowers which grow in front of the fence.

Hopefully the result--with regular maintenance--should hold up for a good while longer. We can only hope; the core materials still seem pretty sound, and the post remain well-anchored.

That’s Part One of our fence project. Part two will involve some spade work, as we revitalize the plantings in front of and behind the fence.

Sometimes a fence is more than just a fence. When I built our house back in 1992, I needed something to help “enclose” the small space created when I pushed the garage back about 15 feet from the front of the house. With an entry to the kitchen placed in-between and room for a small patio on either side of the driveway, the result was a modest “courtyard” that begged to be enclosed by a fence of some sort.

I eventually settled on a white picket fence, which runs only about 8 feet on either side of the driveway, connecting to the house at one side and ending at the property line on the other, then turning back along the boundary there for about 15 feet before ending even-up with the front of the garage. The result was a nice, semi enclosed space, where I could keep a table and chairs on one side and storage/waste bins on the other, all hidden behind a 3 foot fence.

To frame it all off properly, I asked the fence contractor to include some large gate posts on either side of the driveway; something about five feet high and reasonably substantial—about 8” to 12” square. I may have given him a rough sketch, but the design he came up with was almost exactly what I was looking for.

Here you can see the way the fence was designed to wrap around the house and tie it into the landscape.

Before he had started on the project, I had looked at the plans and decided that all of this going on at one side of the house needed to be balanced by something on the other side. As a result, I added an 8 foot length of fence (and a gate post that matched those on the other side) on the opposite side of the house; this also turned at the property line and went back about 24 feet along the boundary, enclosing a small part of the yard surrounding our enclosed porch/garden room. Eventually, this area hidden behind the fence would become known to our children as The Secret Garden.

I was rather happy with the finished result—the fence really served to “anchor” the house and integrate it into the landscape. It also made it appear larger, since it visually stretched the house and the attached fence all the way across the 90 foot lot.

Maintenance & Durability
While the pickets were of cedar and the rest of the fence framing were of pressure-treated lumber, I was concerned that the three large gateposts might be a long term problem due to the fact that their upper portions were not constructed from treated lumber, but shop built off site from standard 2” thick framing pine. They were well-built, with mitered corners, neat moldings and tight joints, but I knew eventually that the weather (and the carpenter ants) might take their toll.

You can see how the upper portion has taken a real beating.

With plenty of paint and stain, the large wooden columns held up pretty well for the first dozen years or so; eventually, however, the top sections and surrounding trim began to rot. Wood filler, calk, and additional paint helped me get through another few years, and the last season or so I even resorted to applying duct tape and a thick coating of FlexSeal ™ sprayed over the worst parts.

This wasn’t the only issue. Many of the nails used to construct these columns were rusting away, with the result that the lower portions—which were built from 1” thick pressure treated lumber—were coming loose from the bottom of the posts, too. As for the balance of the fence, it was still in good shape; the cedar posts would just need a light sanding and maybe a few nails here and there, and the other standard 4x4 posts were solid as a rock. Nevertheless, as I looked at the fence this spring, I knew that it was time for a major restoration.

Planning & Materials
The ground post anchors that the large columns were built upon were still sound; the fluted sides of the columns were cedar, and in very good shape, as was the edge molding at the corners, which only needed a few new nails. Even the horizontal tops of the posts and the finials were not rotted—some straightening, a screw here and there, and some sanding and re-sealing with silicone caulk would bring them up to snuff.

The upper column panels and the molded trim were another story. They had to go, and not wanting to do this job again, I purchased some Azek PVC trim to do the repair work.

The material is not cheap, but it is a dream to work with—it saws better than wood and takes screws better than wood, too. I wouldn’t use it in every application, but here, where it is painted white anyway and is so exposed to the elements, I have no reservations.

Rebuilt, Re-fastened, caulked and new paint.

I eschewed the mitered corners on that large upper column panels and used butt joints this time around. Again, being painted, I think the result looks just fine. I did miter the upper trim corners carefully, and they look better than the original.

As for the bottom of the posts, the mitered 1” thick panels were re-attached with some new screws and also some stainless L-brackets screwed in at each corner. Not quite as neat as the original, but very secure and will end up being hidden by paint and the flowers which grow in front of the fence.

Hopefully the result--with regular maintenance--should hold up for a good while longer. We can only hope; the core materials still seem pretty sound, and the post remain well-anchored.

That’s Part One of our fence project. Part two will involve some spade work, as we revitalize the plantings in front of and behind the fence.

The historic Natirar Mansion, built in 1912 for Walter and Kate Macy-Ladd, had served as a private estate for many years, as well as a convalescent home.
In 1983, the Peapack, NJ estate was purchased by King Hassan II of Morocco for his children, and subsequently sold back to Somerset County in 2003. The county has recently leased the site to a local developer, who is renovating the mansion to serve as the centerpiece of a high-end recreational and residential development.

Visually, the 40-room Tudor-revival mansion pays homage to grand Tudor palaces like Henry VIII’s Hampton Court, though in a much smaller scale. Nonetheless, it features a great deal of authentic detail, including intricate ironwork, leaded glass and authentic wood and stone carving.

Designed by noted Boston architect Guy Lowell, the house is now undergoing an in-depth restoration which includes repairs of the slate and copper roof, repointing of brickwork, and renewal of the oak paneling, carved stonework, molded plaster ceilings and period light fixtures.

When completed, the house will become the highlight of a property that will ultimately include private residential villas, a boutique hotel and spa in conjunction with the existing pool, tennis courts and fitness and wellness center, surrounded by 400 acres of riding, walking and biking trails.

Natirar already boasts one of New Jersey’s most acclaimed restaurants, Ninety Acres. Built in the estate’s restored carriage house, this exceptional facility includes a cooking school, a private club and a 12-acre farm.

The historic Natirar Mansion, built in 1912 for Walter and Kate Macy-Ladd, had served as a private estate for many years, as well as a convalescent home.
In 1983, the Peapack, NJ estate was purchased by King Hassan II of Morocco for his children, and subsequently sold back to Somerset County in 2003. The county has recently leased the site to a local developer, who is renovating the mansion to serve as the centerpiece of a high-end recreational and residential development.

Visually, the 40-room Tudor-revival mansion pays homage to grand Tudor palaces like Henry VIII’s Hampton Court, though in a much smaller scale. Nonetheless, it features a great deal of authentic detail, including intricate ironwork, leaded glass and authentic wood and stone carving.
Designed by noted Boston architect Guy Lowell, the house is now undergoing an in-depth restoration which includes repairs of the slate and copper roof, repointing of brickwork, and renewal of the oak paneling, carved stonework, molded plaster ceilings and period light fixtures.

When completed, the house will become the highlight of a property that will ultimately include private residential villas, a boutique hotel and spa in conjunction with the existing pool, tennis courts and fitness and wellness center, surrounded by 400 acres of riding, walking and biking trails.

Natirar already boasts one of New Jersey’s most acclaimed restaurants, Ninety Acres. Built in the estate’s restored carriage house, this exceptional facility includes a cooking school, a private club and a 12-acre farm.

Years ago, when I first dreamed of building a house of my own, I often dropped into newsstands and book stores to pick up copies of magazines like Country Life, British Home & Garden, Period Home, BBC Homes & Antiques and many others, seeking inspiration. I knew I would never have the means to build what I really wanted, but I hoped that by reading, training my eye and getting a “feel” for what was appropriate, I could come fairly close to envisioning my dream.

Over the years, I have amassed quite a library of books on English architecture and traditional home design. I also managed to horde a lot of those old magazines, which are still well-preserved in my basement.
I’m glad I kept them. Now let me explain.

One of the delights of the Internet Age (yet sadly for magazine publishers) is that there is so much information and visual inspiration available for homeowners to freely access. I find myself constantly referencing ideas and resources from home improvement and interior design sites and blogs, as well as design and furnishing websites like Houzz.

…Which brings me to my current “pet peeve.”

I’ve looked at and saved a lot of photos while browsing on Houzz – mostly traditional interiors, but especially kitchens, home office and basement remodels – which cover some of the projects I have been involved with of late. As expected, it’s not always easy to find an interior that doesn’t feature the white-painted woodwork that is featured on almost every home improvement TV show today. But as bad as the situation might be on www.houzz.com, it’s even worse on www.houzz.co.uk – where almost every single photo in my feed is WHITE. White woodwork. White walls. White cabinets. White fixtures. White tiles. White furniture. White rooms, period. White-white-white-white white. It’s worse than the Academy Awards.

I even posted somewhat sarcastic question on the UK site forum, asking if there had been a ban imposed on using colors other than white. Interestingly enough, one reply blamed the Americans for this; I suppose they could be right.

I get it. If your flat was looking dingy and dull, and you wanted to indulge your dreams of summers in Ibiza, I am fully in sympathy.

My own house probably needs at least one room with white walls - though I am determined that my woodwork will never see paint.

But this ridiculous infatuation with all that is WHITE—or the practical exclusion of anything that is not—is both mystifying and disheartening.

Which is precisely why I am relieved that I can still retrieve those old magazines from the basement and starting looking again for some inspiration. After 20 years or more, I’m sure the pendulum will swing back the other way to once again embrace bold colors, high detail and rich wood tones.

Not so sure about that flowered chintz, though…