Wednesday, 12 June 2013

Shut the door, they're coming in the windows ...


My departed father used to sing the ditty of this post title, with its two circular lyric lines, bounced among four melody lines. I enjoyed it mostly because Dad was so crap at anything remotely musical!


So here we are knee-deep in our wellies among the California Bungalows of Willoughby, just across Eastern Valley Way from where I now live. Streets and streets and streets of lovely examples of simple renovations to a wonderful model, such that a tacky job stands out like the proverbial. I guess if you buy a house, what you do is up to you, unless there is a heritage order of some sort. And if so, why buy the house in the first place. I only get to critique the street frontage of these houses. I fully expect the rear to be altered beyond all recognition, seeing the heyday of the CB was the 1920s and family living has undergone just a smidgen of change in that time.

This last image is a doozey ...


3 comments:

Joan Elizabeth said...

Oh no, the last one reminds me of the horrid things our neighbours did to their house in Canberra.

Julie said...

This one is particularly sad as it is adjacent to a pristine restoration of a CB. The first image is part of that direct comparison.

Joe said...

The renovation in the last shot is odd indeed. I would have thought the owners would be interested in adding value to their house by at least attempting to keep the extension sympathetic to the original structure.