Revised plans are in for our new, more modest, less ridiculous, two storey house. Spot the difference: Looks a lot like the old version, doesn't it? That's because after much debate, we decided to have a roof deck. But also, after much debate, we decided to partially enclose the roof deck so it's more of an outdoor lounge. We know there's no ocean view from the third floor, or even above. But the rationale behind having something up there is that we want to retain that overflow hangout space. Apparently there'll come a time when our daughter wants to hang out with her friends somewhere away from us. And in the meantime, if we make it useable enough, we'll use it. Which is why we are enclosing it a bit - just with one wall (the stairwell), some sort of pergola, a powder room, a bar kitchen (fridge, sink, etc). Otherwise it will be one of those roof decks no-one ever uses, which would be a shame. So, we've saved a chunk of money, by trading 1500...

I guess we just got carried away. And we had a lot of fun doing it. We loved the floor plans and we loved the elevations (eventually) and so I suppose we loved the whole house. We were so happy we were about to submit the plans to the city and the Coastal Commission and get moving on the approval process. But something niggled. When I described the house to friends, it sounded a little excessive. As in, after I described the living space and the bedrooms I had to say 'wait, there's more'. There was an additional story with a couple of rooms that seemed a little superfluous. More of a want than a need. Then again, as we soothed ourselves, 'we're only going to do this once in our lives, we should make sure we do get everything we can'. Then there was a offhand comment the architect made about the build costs having crept up - to 25% over our original budget. We did some calculations and thought weeeeellll maybe we could make that work. But, as I pointed ou...

When we started thinking about building our home the first topic was 'how should it look?'. We rarely pass a new build without commenting on its appearance. We have hot debates about cantilevered upper stories, concrete versus wood sidings, roof lines, and how much concrete is too much. (There's no such thing as too much, in my book). But the home design process, as I now understand, begins on the inside. Only after discussing floor plans and getting the space to function the way we need it to, can we turn our attention to the outside. So, almost three months after we started working with our architect, we finally saw the exterior elevations and got a sense of how it will actually look on the outside. We were beside ourselves with excited anticipation. Here's how it looked: Maybe we had expected too much, because our first response was 'meh'. It was fine, as houses go. It just was not at all like the house we had imagined for ourselves. And it did me...

'We're pretty much there with the floor plans,' we said, as we sat down with our architect. 'Just a couple of tiny tweaks - a window in the garage, and a sink in the upstairs lounge.' And that's how it went. Just as we were about to roll up the floor plans and start talking about exterior finishes, The Love of My Life cleared his throat and said 'there's just one thing I wanted to ask about before we move on'. I tensed. I knew just what that 'one thing' was. A goddamn subterranean wine room. We had one, of sorts, in London for a while: a damp, dark, cool cellar. Ever since then TLOML has hankered after some sort of wine cave. There's a practical benefit to keeping wine underground - it should need minimal refrigeration, if any. But I think the real appeal is that of a bunker, a secret sanctuary. Maybe even behind some kind of secret door. Based on a largely fact-free offhand conversation I once had with a builder, I told TLOML co...

Over the past couple of months this house grew. The idea of a modest, 4 bed+ house around a spacious courtyard spawned the floorplans for a 6+ bedroom colossus, around an ever-decreasing courtyard. Some things (my office, the deck off the master) got smaller or deleted altogether. But then we started throwing on things like the o-furo, an outdoor workout space, a mudroom, a wine room with space to actually sit down, and more balconies and decks. And then I got the fear. I was afraid we were creating a monster with many empty leaf-strewn balconies.  Since then we've ditched the o-furo and the outdoor workout space, plus several hundred square foot of balcony. I think we're in a saner place now. It is now a 5 bedroom house with 2 living rooms (okay 3 if you count the library nook), 2 modest offices and a wine room. It's no Versailles, and although it does still look like quite a large house I'm confident we'll use every room. No redundant 'formal' dining ...

Quite slow moving this blog, isn't it? Turns out so is the whole design and build process. For those of you who've asked me 'what next?' and 'how long will it take?' and 'when will you start building?' here's a timeline. The first big step is to submit our preliminary plans into the city for approval. Once we have that we can get started with the Coastal Commission approval and in parallel work on our detailed plans. That's the bit with civil engineers and energy calculations and electrical plans. Those detailed plans need to back to the city for final approval, and once we have that and the Coast Commission's OK we can start to tear down and build. Note the red-circled question marks. We don't know how long the preliminary city approval, the coast commission approval, or the final city approval will take. If all goes we should be ready to build next summer. Note too the 'we are here' arrow. It's a long road ahead...

We're in! We squeezed our 2300 sq ft home's worth of possessions into Casa Del Sol's cockroach infested* 1500 sq ft. The former owner left us the clogs and the Casa Del Sol sign, you will be pleased to hear. He also bequeathed several electrical outlets that don't work, a side yard full of broken plant pots and random street furniture, and the ugliest blinds I've ever seen. It feels a bit makeshift - the old IKEA Expedit and some plastic drawers have been pressed back into service and half our possessions are in boxes in the garage - but it works. And life on Loma is good! Here's why. Being 1/4 mile closer to the beach makes a dramatic difference to how beachy life feels. Moving to a quieter street helps too. I love seeing all the beach-goers walking by our house: the Junior Guards walking by in their swimsuits and hoodies, barefoot surfers, kids in red wagons. It's friendlier here too. All the dog walkers pass by on their way to Clark Field and natural...