I, Architecture Cop, have been reviewing the neighborhood changes, and I am not pleased. Someone down the street has just put in a long row of hedges around their property. Ick. There's a distinct preference around here for geometric hedges made of boxwood. This is a bad thing. The reason it is a bad thing is because it always gets out of hand quickly. No one likes to trim their hedges once they've put them in, probably because it's a pain. Huge bushy bits take up room on the sidewalk and block the view of cross-traffic. We haven't got any hedgehogs to make it worthwhile, so I think people should give up the hedges and put in some hardy perennials. At least we'd have flowers to pick if they got out of hand.
The convent grounds, where the local dogs and their owners were wont to frolick 'pon summer eves, has been entirely dug up, flattened, or obscured by enormous piles of dirt and rock. It is no longer possible to see the grass, although I'm sure once the condominiums are all done the property managers will restore the part that's supposed to be a park. It's sad, though. It was so beautiful in there, under the pine trees and osage oranges. All summer long the fireflies would wink and glow in the dim, blue dusk. Rabbits lived in the long grasses. Someone put up a rope swing and we could swing desultorily while our dogs ran around in the big field. Now, it's all cement and iron and tractors.
Last week, I noticed someone on the next block over had repainted their house a sandy yellow color. Not too bad, I thought, though not a real improvement over the purplish brown that it used to be. Yesterday, however, I saw they'd painted their door frame and window trim bright red. Gah! What were they thinking? It's dreadful with the yellowish shade of the house. Maybe it sounded good in principle to them. In practice, it brings out all the wrong tones in the house. Not a happy combination. I bet their immediate neighbors tell them, too. This area is not for the retiring personality. It's a bit too upscale for that. In fact, it's a great deal more upscale than it used to be. All the properties were recently reappraised, and the homeowners are furious. A house which was purchased for $84,000 in 1996 is now worth $140,000. I imagine the jump in taxes is pretty steep. Anyway, everyone cares a lot about how the place looks, so woe to those who pick out tacky colors.
The one attractive remodeling job in my area is lots of fun to observe as it progresses. A couple have turned a nasty old garage into a really sharp-looking guest house. It used to be the sort of place where cars were up on blocks for months and the grass grew in between the cracks of the sidewalks. Windows were filthy with dirt and unspeakable substances. It was the kind of house that kids tell each other is haunted. Now it looks spiffy, especially because they put in a superb garden. They grow dahlias. Prized ones, I guess, because whenever it rains hard the garden owners put protective devices up over each huge flower head. I just love seeing the bright, showy flowers with their tiny little umbrellas to keep them dry. It cheers me up for days.