Seek and Find
While hardly romantic, this adventure began after graduating from Texas A&M and returning to my home town of Austin, Texas. There are a lot of unique and great places all throughout this world, but Austin has always been a nice fit. It has a dynamic, vibrant atmosphere and a reasonable amount of forgiveness. While the native hipsters frequently distribute their judgmental snobbery like it were Halloween candy, they are generally harmless and fun to observe within their beatnik habitat. The city itself seems to foster and allow the cultivation and prosperity of the arts and attempts to keep environmental initiatives afloat which, regardless of their misguided methods, are noble goals for any municipality. Coupled with the rather daunting opportunity of reshaping and eventually taking of the family business, the decision of where to relocate was rather easy.
Finding a house to suit my lifestyle and budget however was not. Let me just say that there were a variety of schemes, theories and plans drafted over the course of about 6 months. I knew I wanted a few things: the ability to create some sort of self-sufficient lifestyle for myself and future family, an environmentally conscious dwelling, and a structure not to exceed 1500 sqft. In truth, one of the first ideas bounced around by myself and Rebekah (the other steward for TLBH, part time) was actually a 200-400 sqft “Tiny Texas” house. Yes, small, but we absolutely loved the overall concept and cuteness, and secondly they are made completely from salvaged building materials from antique houses. The price per square foot however exceeded what I considered to be feasible, so we had to look elsewhere. At this point the plan was to find an acre of so of land outside of the city and either building or moving a structure onto it. The second manifestation of this was called the Jacal. A Jacal is considered to be the only vernacular architecture of the Texas hill country, and consists of a lean-to structure usually built into the side of a slope. We both absolutely loved the open floor plan this style would afford and the fact they seemed to fit perfectly with the land here. Again, while it may have been possible, the feasibility of such an undertaking didn’t seem to be realistic. In order to find land prices low enough, the commute into town would be upwards of 45min to an hour, which given my distaste for driving, would probably be a bad life decision.
Back to the bottom we were. After a bit of MLS searching myself, I decided to contact a local Realtor which my family knew quite well. Truth is, I did not expect him to find something all that quickly, despite the housing bust at the time. My criteria were relatively challenging: low budget, close to work with some land and most importantly, it had to be something I could work on and improve over time. While this might not seem too much of a challenge, our business is located in West Austin, one of the most affluent areas of central Texas. I did not believe that too many houses existed within this scope, but sometimes it is nice to be wrong.
Despite this list the Realtor contacted me within one week, telling me he had stumbled upon something fitting my needs perfectly: the little blue house. The LBH upon first inspection was in fact not blue at all, rather it was brown and gray from years of weather and no paint or sealant to speak of. It was covered with copious amounts of overgrown shrubs, bushes, and formerly manicured landscape features, now left to run wild. It sat on the top of its hill, proud but somehow forlorn, never allowed to realize its completion. The previous owner had started its construction almost 25 years prior without finishing despite living there for 10 years without even insulation to shield its inside from the heat and cold. The old weathered siding was faded and warped, rotting in spots where rain repeatedly sat along its trim. Its roof was broken from harsh storms and haphazardly patched, allowing water to trickle into its interior. The inside consisted of numerous studs, bare with electrical and plumbing runs creating serpentine patterns through the gaps between the joists. There were no doors on the interior, and in fact, no permanent stairs to reach the second floor. Its layout was poorly designed and curiously proportioned. What this house did have in ample quantities was potential. Often the potential I find in a situation guides my decision making, and this was no different. Amidst its tattered and seemingly abandoned features was an immense desire to be complete. It wished to become a home, something that people would take pride in and cherish. This house needed me. It needed someone with a vision and drive to see its potential through while accepting its problems and faults with understanding and patience. This little blue house needed someone to take a chance on it so that it could have the opportunity to give back. On top of meeting all the logical criteria and then some, it was love at first sight.
I suppose the rest is quite obvious. I excitedly approached Rebekah with the prospect, and after gaining her blessing, working out finances and undergoing house buying process, the LBH was finally under my (and Rebekah’s) stewardship. I made the decision to go against the norm of my peers, along with many others in society, and take my chance on this little house in much need of care. Its structure would become my shelter. Its land my sanctuary and source of wonder. Within its spirit, I would call this place my home.