THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Saturday, May 18, 1996 TAG: 9605160320
SECTION: REAL ESTATE WEEKLY PAGE: 04 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: ABOUT THE OUTER BANKS
SOURCE: CHRIS KIDDER
LENGTH: Long : 106 lines
I've interviewed dozens of homeowners after they've built a new house or completed a home improvement. I always ask, ``What would you do differently if you had to do it over again?''
For those of you who followed the building of my house in this column, it's only fair that I ask myself the same question.
With hindsight, I would schedule the house to be finished in March rather than April.
I was able to move into my house on April 4, just three days after my target date. But ``occupied'' and ``finished'' are not synonymous.
Trying to get contractors back to fix things or complete unfinished work on the Outer Banks in April is like running a marathon on a treadmill. You may inflict pain and suffering - you'll definitely expend a lot of energy - but, in the end, you won't have made any progress.
By April, carpenters, painters, plumbers, the installers of HVAC systems, carpet, drywall and gutters, landscapers and other subcontractors are into work over their heads. The lull of winter, when they thought they'd never have enough to do, is long gone.
Money alone is not a motivator anymore: They've either been paid or they have so much money rolling in right now that small jobs are ignored. What seems to matter is that I'm in my house and most of what remains to be done can wait.
I was given this advice by a friend and I pass it along: The ideal situation is to have enough money and willpower to allow time for the house to be finished before moving into it. Until you release the final payment and move in, there's enough money and customer satisfaction at stake to keep things rolling.
Since I don't have the money or the willpower, I would aim to finish the house in March, while the chill of winter's empty wallet still lingers.
On a more practical note, I would put a window in my garage. During the window wars with my house designer, I eliminated the garage window to save money. I had doors and ceiling lights; I didn't think I would miss a window.
I do. I want one. Having to turn lights on and off just to run out to the recycling bin or grab a hammer off the work bench bothers me. Spending any time out there, without opening a door, is akin to working in a basement.
I find this lack of easy light so annoying that I'm sure a window in the garage will be one of my first home improvement projects.
And, on the subject of light, one final note. I would make sure I understood the electrician's plan for light switches. A bad location is a constant annoyance. It's one of those things that, once done, can't be changed without major expense.
I spent hours worrying about the placement of light fixtures and electrical outlets, but I left the placement of switches to the electrician. I thought there was a logical science to where switches go. Evidently not.
I can't turn the garage lights on without walking down four steps into the dark garage. The switch should have been at the top of the stairs. In fact, I probably wouldn't feel so strongly about the garage window if I didn't find myself cursing the light switch arrangement a dozen times a day.
The only switch for one light over the built-in oven in my kitchen was put outside a door in an adjoining hallway. It's so inconvenient it never gets used. I'm trying to train myself to open the door, reach down the hall and turn the darn thing on, but it's just more trouble than it's worth.
There are other inconveniently located switches - along with an annoying switch in the living room that turns on nothing - that, had I discovered them when the wires were roughed in, I could have changed. Instead, weary of the decision-making, I chose not to spend time keeping tabs on the electrician's work.
If I had it to do over, I'd be asking where every wire went and what every box controlled. I'd walk in and out of rooms, testing whether the switches were where I expected them to be. I'd be a first-class pest but, knowing what I now know, I wouldn't care.
But the problems and disappointments with my new house are very few. The house is as good, if not better, than I imagined it could be and certainly more wonderful than I hoped it would be.
I've identified five relatively small things that I didn't know I wanted when I began planning the house but have turned out to be excellent additions. If you're planning a house or a home improvement, you might want to consider:
Street lights. On the Outer Banks, residential street lights are the exception not the rule. But in my neighborhood, where houses are spread out and set back from the street, finding my driveway would be nearly impossible without extra light.
North Carolina Power offers several different decorative or utilitarian street light styles, which they install and maintain for a very reasonable monthly fee.
Built-in cutting boards. After debating the pros and cons of butcher block counters, my kitchen designer recommended a tempered glass insert called ``Surface Saver.'' The glass, inlaid into my counter between the refrigerator and cook-top, serves as a cutting board and a trivet. It doesn't scratch, burn, melt or scorch, absorb moisture or breed bacteria.
A shower with a seat in it. I don't recall the builder's explanation for why I ended up with this shower instead of a plain shower stall but it is definitely a handy thing. Its only drawback is that it encourages longer showers.
Programmable thermostats. It's no more difficult to keep your house efficiently heated and cooled than it is to program a VCR. With the York system that I have, I can set my temperature preferences for four program periods and easily override any of them.
Motion-detector lights. This light, mounted above my garage door, automatically turns on when anyone drives up or walks out the door after dusk. It turns itself off after 10 minutes. Timing and sensitivity to motion are adjustable. MEMO: Send comments and questions to Chris Kidder at P.O. Box 10, Nags Head,
N.C. 27959. Or e-mail her at realkidd(AT)aol.com by CNB