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…

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.

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.

If you love traditional Old English homes, there can be no doubt you will run into some type of stucco or exterior plaster at one time or another. It may be on the exterior of an ancient cob house, the roughcast finish on a Voysey house, the fancy plaster pargetting of an Elizabethan townhouse or even some exterior panels on a “stockbroker Tudor”.

Built in 1914, the traditional-styled English Cottage I lived in for 8 years in Akron’s Goodyear Heights had asbestos stucco covering its first (ground) floor and foundation, with cedar shingles on the upper floor. (I’ve always thought wall shingles were a poor-man’s substitute for the clay tiling used on many English vernacular houses.) The stucco on that house had been painted over, and due to some neglected maintenance, had begun to crack in several places.

On the driveway side of the house, the stucco and its expanded wire lath were both coming loose from the exterior sheathing, to the extent that I could easily insert my hand fully into the gap for almost a foot, which was right next to our dining room window. This could have been the result of some foundation settling and some moisture penetration, but it eventually resulted in the decision to remove a 6’ x 4’ section of the stucco and make a major repair.

Of course, I did not know this was asbestos stucco at the time—but it came off in large pieces, and not being too concerned with short term exposure outdoors—I have no regrets or adverse effects some 25 years later. There was horse-hair in that stucco, too!

What I did know is that I could not just go out and buy modern stucco mix and plop it onto the wall. I first reattached the wire lath, which was actually still in pretty decent shape, and added some securely stapled chicken wire here and there, just for good measure. I then referenced an old-fashioned stucco recipe which I probably sourced from The Old House Journal—remember, this was pre-Internet. That meant plenty of lime and not just Portland cement.

Having a substantial section of the house exposed while repairs are being made can be discomforting, but thankfully I was blessed for an extended dry period. A thick base coat, covered with a second, thinner brown coat, brought the surface to the proper level. This was followed by a finish coat—with some small pebbles added—to try and match the rest of the exterior wall surface as best as I could. I wasn’t too happy with the match until I got the hose and sprayed the surface ever-so-lightly with some water from our hose, which smoothed it to the extent that it finally matched the old stucco perfectly. Once this section of the house was coated with paint to match the rest, you could not tell the repair from the original work.

The house needed more repairs higher up on the facade, which had more cracks but was not failing to the extent that it was on the one side, probably due to the fact that it was sheltered from the prevailing winds, rain and direct sunlight. Sadly, I never got around to doing more repairs before we began the process of designing and building our new house in 1992. Nevertheless, I was proud to note during a recent neighborhood visit that the house still retains its original exterior materials and my repair looks just as solid as it did 25 years ago. Even the front of the house has held up to some extent, though it does look worse for the wear.

When we built our new(er) house, I considered using some synthetic stucco for the exterior, but decided against it for cost reasons. Over the years, some of these newer, lighter synthetic blends, installed over various types of insulating foam, have come under fire, having failed due to poor installation techniques or unsuitability for a particular climate. If I was to utilize stucco today, I would probably go with a more traditional type.

Which brings me to the discovery of a third type of stucco, with which I was totally unfamiliar—and that is magnesite stucco.

Some of the more popular brands were Kragstone,  Kellastone and Rocbond, proprietary blends of magnesium carbonate powder, asbestos and sand, which was mixed with an oily, magnesium chloride solution. It was not a cement-like product at all, and contained no lime, gypsum, or water. The result was a more plastic-like, all-mineral stucco product that was highly resistant to cracking and dried rock-hard when applied at least a half-inch thick.

Magnesite stucco was applied in two coats, and its unique properties allowed it to be applied even during freezing weather. Apparently it was introduced some time before WWI, and became quite popular before fading into obscurity a few decades later. In a few places, like California, there are some stucco specialists who can still repair and apply it, as it was often used for flooring surfaces, interior and exterior steps, and even countertops, sinks and bathtubs!

Here in Ohio, I know magnesite stucco was used in a number of locations many years ago, though I have not personally come across it myself. It seems obvious that repairs would represent quite a challenge, and I can’t see the use of more traditional types of stucco for repair being compatible. If you have any experience with this unique type of stucco, I’d like to hear about it.

If you love traditional Old English homes, there can be no doubt you will run into some type of stucco or exterior plaster at one time or another. It may be on the exterior of an ancient cob house, the roughcast finish on a Voysey house, the fancy plaster pargetting of an Elizabethan townhouse or even some exterior panels on a “stockbroker Tudor”.

Built in 1914, the traditional-styled English Cottage I lived in for 8 years in Akron’s Goodyear Heights had asbestos stucco covering its first (ground) floor and foundation, with cedar shingles on the upper floor. (I’ve always thought wall shingles were a poor-man’s substitute for the clay tiling used on many English vernacular houses.) The stucco on that house had been painted over, and due to some neglected maintenance, had begun to crack in several places.

On the driveway side of the house, the stucco and its expanded wire lath were both coming loose from the exterior sheathing, to the extent that I could easily insert my hand fully into the gap for almost a foot, which was right next to our dining room window. This could have been the result of some foundation settling and some moisture penetration, but it eventually resulted in the decision to remove a 6’ x 4’ section of the stucco and make a major repair.

Of course, I did not know this was asbestos stucco at the time—but it came off in large pieces, and not being too concerned with short term exposure outdoors—I have no regrets or adverse effects some 25 years later. There was horse-hair in that stucco, too!

What I did know is that I could not just go out and buy modern stucco mix and plop it onto the wall. I first reattached the wire lath, which was actually still in pretty decent shape, and added some securely stapled chicken wire here and there, just for good measure. I then referenced an old-fashioned stucco recipe which I probably sourced from The Old House Journal—remember, this was pre-Internet. That meant plenty of lime and not just Portland cement.

Having a substantial section of the house exposed while repairs are being made can be discomforting, but thankfully I was blessed for an extended dry period. A thick base coat, covered with a second, thinner brown coat, brought the surface to the proper level. This was followed by a finish coat—with some small pebbles added—to try and match the rest of the exterior wall surface as best as I could. I wasn’t too happy with the match until I got the hose and sprayed the surface ever-so-lightly with some water from our hose, which smoothed it to the extent that it finally matched the old stucco perfectly. Once this section of the house was coated with paint to match the rest, you could not tell the repair from the original work.

The house needed more repairs higher up on the facade, which had more cracks but was not failing to the extent that it was on the one side, probably due to the fact that it was sheltered from the prevailing winds, rain and direct sunlight. Sadly, I never got around to doing more repairs before we began the process of designing and building our new house in 1992. Nevertheless, I was proud to note during a recent neighborhood visit that the house still retains its original exterior materials and my repair looks just as solid as it did 25 years ago. Even the front of the house has held up to some extent, though it does look worse for the wear.

When we built our new(er) house, I considered using some synthetic stucco for the exterior, but decided against it for cost reasons. Over the years, some of these newer, lighter synthetic blends, installed over various types of insulating foam, have come under fire, having failed due to poor installation techniques or unsuitability for a particular climate. If I was to utilize stucco today, I would probably go with a more traditional type.

Which brings me to the discovery of a third type of stucco, with which I was totally unfamiliar—and that is magnesite stucco.

Some of the more popular brands were Kragstone,  Kellastone and Rocbond, proprietary blends of magnesium carbonate powder, asbestos and sand, which was mixed with an oily, magnesium chloride solution. It was not a cement-like product at all, and contained no lime, gypsum, or water. The result was a more plastic-like, all-mineral stucco product that was highly resistant to cracking and dried rock-hard when applied at least a half-inch thick.

Magnesite stucco was applied in two coats, and its unique properties allowed it to be applied even during freezing weather. Apparently it was introduced some time before WWI, and became quite popular before fading into obscurity a few decades later. In a few places, like California, there are some stucco specialists who can still repair and apply it, as it was often used for flooring surfaces, interior and exterior steps, and even countertops, sinks and bathtubs!

Here in Ohio, I know magnesite stucco was used in a number of locations many years ago, though I have not personally come across it myself. It seems obvious that repairs would represent quite a challenge, and I can’t see the use of more traditional types of stucco for repair being compatible. If you have any experience with this unique type of stucco, I’d like to hear about it.

One of the more gratifying things one can do is to be able to put knowledge to good use, and I was able to do exactly this last weekend as I was able to lead a historic neighborhood tour of Akron’s Goodyear Heights through @Akron2Akron, a local group that helps organized and promote city neighborhood tours in an effort to help residents discover and appreciate the places where they live.

This pedestrian pathway and steps was dedicated to Clara Bingham,  a 47-year Goodyear employee who was popularly knows as "The First Lady of Goodyear."

I won’t go into a lot of detail in this post—there is a downloadable brochure I prepared; a PDF Dropbox link is HERE if you’d like to read more about it. In short, Goodyear Heights is one of the better American examples of the Garden City Movement as it was transformed into a high quality community for industrial employees of Frank Seiberling’s Goodyear Tire and Rubber Company. Planning began in 1912, when Seiberling used his master landscape designer, Warren Manning (who had already designed the grounds at his landmark Tudor-Revival mansion, Stan Hywet) to layout a small town for his workers.


Manning, who was a senior assistant to the legendary landscape designer Fredrick Law Olmstead, laid out a masterful plan that followed the topography of the site, leaving many open areas for parks and other public areas. Seiberling also hired noted architects to design attractive homes for the community; rather than settle for typical utilitarian worker housing, he insisted on a wide variety of higher-quality “cottages” – many of which were based on traditional English small home designs.
While the community is also home to a number of other popular early 20th century house styles, like bungalows, craftsman-style homes and quaint colonials, the English influence is clear, from the Tudor-revival Boy Scout Center to more modest homes reminiscent of small houses by Voysey, Baillie Scott and Lutyens. Other buildings in the area followed this trend, including the original high school (built to resemble a Tudor palace) the neighborhood’s public library and Goodyear Hall, which was the company’s educational center and recreation building.

Due to the neighborhood’s size and historic character, our @Akron2Akron tours were held over two days, with two distinct tour routes offered on each date. The tour I led followed a slightly more challenging uphill route, following a series of pedestrian paths and steps that had been integrated into the neighborhood’s original design, allowing convenient access between various street levels. Pour other tour followed a more level route, through the project’s initial phase and taking in some of the open park spaces that Manning had preserved.

On each route, the guides were able to discuss the history of the development, the challenges of construction and the wide variety of home designs found in the there. The weather was perfect, with everything so green and the flowers in bloom, the neighborhood showed quite well, and afterward, everyone was able to meet at the gazebo at the “square” on Pioneer Street for refreshments and cookies. This public area offers a great opportunity to capture Manning’s (and Seiberling’s) original vision, with its human scale and comfortable mix of buildings used for commerce, housing, social services and worship. In recent years, the R.I.G.H.T. Committee (Resident Improving Goodyear Heights Together) led by Sharon Connor, has done an outstanding job in helping to build the gazebo, restore and maintain the rose garden here, and helping to stabilize and improve the neighborhood. Overall, the tours were a great success; somewhere between 75-100 people attended the first Thursday evening tour on June 9th, and another 35 or so attended the Saturday 6/11 follow-up--making this the best attended @Akron2Akron event so far. It was nice to see that not only did we have attendees from all over Akron, but that a number of neighborhood residents came out as well to discover more about their neighborhood and celebrate its history!

The gazebo was built almost 20 years ago by community volunteers, using materials, proportions and a scale that would compliment the surrounding buildings on the public square.

The @Akron2Akron tour is the first of many activities planned for Goodyear Heights, as current and former residents, city officials, preservationists and other activists are finally coming together to develop plans to protect and preserve this historic neighborhood, which has been recognized for its significance on both the state and national level. During our tour, I discovered that part of the Heights had actually been nominated for the National Register of Historic places back in the 1970’s, but a short-sighted city planning director had discouraged the nomination. Currently discussion has centered on developing a simpler local historic designation as a start, in combination with educational programs and some local funding to encourage and support the preservation and restoration of neighborhood homes.

This was just some of our Thursday night tour group - one more busload of trolley riders was yet to arrive!

A city trolley bus was available to transport attendees from parking areas nearby to the starting point on Malasia Road.