Some old shots of our lot from back in the day

That house in the middle of the photo above, the house with the two out-buildings in the back, is the house that used to be on our property. This photo was taken in 1965. It shows, among other things, how small the trees were (they had probably only been planted five to ten years before this when the houses were built). The neighbors' houses look the same now as they did back then.

This is where I got the above photo from. There's an enormous oak at the corner today that many would suggest was well over a hundred years old. It's just a bush in this photo! 

This is the HEB at 2222 and Burnet from about 1950. This photo is looking north into what is now our neighborhood. No trees out there hardly at all!

And this is photo looking west with Lamar in the foreground and, to the left, the intersection of Lamar with Airport. The whitish "gash" on the horizon (right where the Hill Country begins) is the Far West area, which used to be a rock quarry. The road that runs from Lamar all the way to the west is Justin Lane. 

making the lot whole again; permission to destroy; how to deal with bureaucracies; rise up to appraise

Busy day today...

making the lot whole again

Back in ye old days, some 60 plus years ago, our neighborhood-to-be was platted into various lots. However, when the developer finally developed, he (or she) didn't abide by the original platting and built instead on different lots without replatting with the city. That means I had to take a few hours off work today to research deeds at the Travis County clerk's office (needed to show that the lot existed in its current configuration before 1995 to avoid going through formal subdividing).

I've been to the clerk's office before to research the history of our previous property and to find out what lot holders paid for various lots we bidded on back in our lot-searching days. Searching them deeds is an interesting thing. Fortunately, most of them are digital and online, but you have to go to the office and print them there to be "official". And if you go way back, you have to deal with the dreaded microfilm readers. Not a good way to spend your morning unless you  have a solid prescription of Xanax.

On the plus side, I love researching this stuff and trying to fill in the blanks on the history of the land. For grins, I went ahead and pulled the original deed for the property from way back in the 1860s:

After a couple hours at the county office, I hoop-hogged down to permitting for a pleasant five minute wait before talking to staff and submitting paperwork. We should be whole again tomorrow.

permission to destroy

Got a note from the architect that although there is nothing on the lot to demo, we need to file for a demolition permit. Apparently whomever demo'd the original house (our neighbors say it was the city after they condemned the property) didn't file a demo permit (which kinda makes sense if it was, indeed, the city...). Despite that the house was prolly demo'd back in the early 1990s, the city wants to see a demo permit on file. That will cost a to-be-determined permit fee, and the paperwork (of course) requires notarization. grrrr...

how to deal with bureaucracies

In short, jump through the hoops and smile (unless you reach a point where you truly need to raise hell). No one likes bureaucracy, but it doesn't get you anywhere to rip into the dude or dudette in front of you who had nothing to do with putting the bureaucracy in place. I've never understood the propensity for folks to shoot the messenger, especially if you need that messenger to do something for you. Shoot the messenger, and the messenger may passive-aggressively delay your permit (or cause other problems). Would you go out of your way to help someone if they just ripped you a new one for something you have no control over? Didn't think so. My advice is to get through the process and then talk to the folks that can really deal with the issue, generally the elected officials. Run for mayor if you need to. We may even put your sign in our front yard.

Note that the county and city folks we dealt with today were quite pleasant. In fact, the city guy seemed surprised I didn't yell or complain. Maybe that's why he said he could get our paperwork done by tomorrow (despite the paperwork saying it takes two weeks).

The other thing to do is to READ THE PAPERWORK CAREFULLY. Make sure you have addressed everything. Saves a trip (and a potential blow-up).

rise up to appraise

After some struggles with digital files (I'm discovering that the building bidness is still pretty much oldskool), the appraiser is at work appraising the property. From what I've read (it's in that Dummies book...), unless you're in a sooper-hot market (ha!), don't expect the house you're going to build to appraise for what it costs to build it. OK. We won't expect that. So I guess the question at this point (oooo: suspense!) is: How much lower will the appraisal be? Since we're rolling a lot of cash from our previous nearly-paid-off house into this one, it won't be an issue for us, but if you're minimizing your cash outlay on a build, it could impact your ability to get a construction loan.

Despite the aforementioned "ha!", the housing market is Austin is, indeed, hot right now. It is a seller's market with reports of houses going under contract in mere hours in certain neighborhoods. In fact, we've had two inquiries about buying the lot (it would take a bit of coin at this point...). That bodes well, wethinks. We shall see...

a boring story

The bride stopped in to check on the ripeness of the figs and saw that the geotech crew had been to the lot. It took them what seemed to be awhile to make hole (I was fixin' to give them a "What's up?" call), but who knows what the standard response time is. And building in Austin seems to be on the uptick lately, so I reckon they have been busier than usual, at least since the banking crisis and subsequent recession. Suggest you put your call in at least four weeks (six weeks?) before you need the info!

The geotechs wound up drilling two boreholes (no word on whether or not they hit oil or gas [yes, we do have Eagle Ford Shale deepish beneath us! {No, it doesn't produce gas at these relatively shallow depths...}]). I'm guessing they bored no deeper than 6 to 10 feet. I did my dissertation many years ago on the Austin Chalk, which are the rocks beneath our lot. A few feet of clay-rich soil, weathered-tan (oxidized) chalky limestone after that, and then a cool steely blue unweathered chalky limestone after that is what I would expect in these parts (check, check, and check). Once you get past the first few feet of clayey soil, it's a good solid foundation for building.

Actual diagram from mwah's dissertation! 

(Look ma: I actually used it for something!) 

The original quote suggested that they would drill one borehole, but I'm glad they did two. Austin is located amidst the (no worries: long dead!) Balcones Fault Zone (when the Rocky Mountains lifted up out of the Earth, it also lifted this part of the country, causing stuff to sluff off toward the Gulf Coast, greased as it were by deep and malleable salt deposits; we have the Balcones Fault Zone to thank for Mount Bonnell!). Even though the geologic maps didn't suggest any faulting in the area, it's always good to know for sure. Since a foundation can be quite costly if conditions aren't right or the geology itself might dictate the economic placement of the house, I suggest doing geotech early, before the design phase (do as I say, not as I do! [although I checked the geology maps early on {and reviewed a copy of the Green House, Good Life people's geotech survey that they were kind enough to share} and felt pretty good that we would find what has apparently been found {as any good geologist, I carefully inspected the cuttings}]).

Just down the street toward the park there's an old road cut that has an outcrop of the chalk. Soils are probably a little thicker here because we are getting close to Shoal Creek. Yep, that chalk looks pretty dense.

As a geologic aside, these rocks were laid down back in the good ole days when Central Texas was part of a shallow sea. The chalk is made up of the secreted carbonate shells of phytoplankton that slowly drifted to the ocean floor to collect and create a pelagic goo that eventually was deeply buried and slightly cooked to create the rock we know and love (and bore) now. Wished we had bought our lot back then. We could have probably gotten it for a steal!

dirty deeds (done dirt cheap) part II

Devon brought up deed restrictions and chickens the other day. It occurred to me that although we have posted about deed restrictions before, we haven't posted about the restrictions on our current lot. So even though it feels restricting, let's get on with it!

Early in our design phase the architect asked to see the (dirty) deeds. These (dirty) deed restrictions were put in place by the original developers (there was a tree full of 'em) of Green Acres. Here are the restrictions, filed with the County of Travis on February 21, 1952:

(a) No structure shall be erected on any residential building plot other than one detached single-family dwelling not to exceed two stories in height and a one or two-car garage. Servants quarters attached or unattached are permitted.


(b) No building on any residential building plot shall be nearer than 25 feet to nor farther than 35 feet from the front lot line, nor nearer than 5 feet to any side lot line. The side line restriction shall not apply to a garage located on the rear one-quarter of a lot, except that on corner lots no structure shall be permitted nearer than 12 feet to the side street line. There must be a total of 15 feet of side yard for each residence erected.


(c) No residential lot shall be subdivided into building plots having less than 6000 square feet of area or a width of less than 50 feet each, nor shall any building be erected on any residential building plot having an area of less than 6000 square feet or a frontage of less than 50 feet.


(d) No trailer, basement, tent, shack, garage, barn, or other outbuilding erected on the tract shall at any time be used as a residence temporarily or permanently, nor shall any residence of a temporary character be permitted.


(e) No noxious or offensive trade shall be carried on upon any lot nor shall anything be done thereon which may be or become an annoyance or nuisance to the neighborhood. 


(f) No structure shall be moved onto any lot.


(g) No one-story dwelling costing less than $4000.00, and no two-story dwelling costing less than $6000.00, shall be erected on any lot in the tract, and the ground floor square foot area thereof shall not be less than 1000 square feet in the case of a one-story structure nor less than 700 square feet in the case of a one-and-a-half or two-story structure, except that an attached garage and a covered porch to the structure, may be counted as one-half of their square feet.


(h) A perpetual easement is reserved over the rear five feet of each lot for utility installation and maintenance.


(i) These covenants and restrictions are to run with the land and shall be binding on all parties and all persons claiming under them forever.


(j) If the parties hereto, or any of them, or their heirs or assigns, shall at any time violate or attempt to violate any of the covenants or restrictions herein, it shall be lawful for any person or persons owning any other lots in said development or subdivision to prosecute any proceedings at law or in equity against the person or persons violating or attempting to violate any such covenant or restrictions and either to prevent him or them from doing so or to recover damages or other dues for such violation.


(k) Invalidation of any of these covenants by judgment or court order shall in no way affect any of the other provisions which shall remain in full force and effect.


(l) Absolutely, positively no bunnies.

Whew! Nothing about chickens! Or bees! Or (large sigh of relief) maggots (cough, cough: excuse me:) worms! And we were losing sleep over where to put the servants, but it appears we are covered there as well! But no bunnies?!!?!? (Actually, I made that one up: we can have bunnies, too!)

Although the (dirty) deed says we can put the garage right on the lot line if it's in the rear quarter of the lot, the city would have something to say about that. And so it goes: city regulations trump deed restrictions, state regulations trump city regulations, and federal regulations trump state regulations.

if the glove fits...

Took advantage of daylight savings time to (a) feed the worms and (b) set some flags for the footprint of the house on the lot. Have to say we are diggin’ the print. There’s a lot of yard to love: Public (up-front), guestic (in the middle), and private (in the back) (I made up that word “guestic” to mean semi-private, for the guests. Ha! And in case you are wondering, them worms are doing great! The warm winter has ‘em active [and hungry] early!).

One thing we learned from staking out the first house is that it’s darn hard to get a sense of the size of the rooms from stakes in the dirt. So here’s a tip: Compare the size of the rooms in your plan to the size of the rooms you are currently living in. That puts things into perspective real quick (and how we’ve been assessing room dimensions). Use the staking to get a sense for the size of the outdoor spaces.

The stakes are low at this point (lots of bending over), so don’t worry.

the latest-greatest

Here's the latest on the floor plans as well as the first (posted) elevations (as always, click on an image to see a larger, more savory version of it):

We haven't yet (over)analyzed these plans, so let's go ahead and do that now (bwah-ha-ha!!!).

First off: We're totally digging 'em. It's interesting (to me at least) how different these plans are from the ones Architect 1.0 developed for us. And while we liked the plans from Architect 1.0, we both agree we like these plans better.

ch-ch-ch-changes

The site plan (the first figure above) is essentially the same as before except that (1) there's now parking for two vehicles in the front of the property, (2) the footprint of the house is more refined as the design has developed, and (3) the garage is pushed a little further back to align with the back edge of the house.

The first floor also has some subtle changes from the previous plan. The living, dining, powder, and office are the same. The door to the coat closet now opens in the other direction (a suggestion). The kitchen now has bigger and more windows (a request). The pantry now opens into the kitchen (a suggestion [thank you Devon!]). The fridge has moved a wee bit (not sure why and not sure we like that, although it may be to accommodate a wall mounted oven and microwave [we're insisting, at this point, on a built-in range]).

The rear entry is different to accommodate a suggestion for room for a built-in grill at that entry, although we're losing storage in the laundry room to do this (the bride really wants a covered grill so I don't get wet grilling). The stairwell is a wee bit wider to accommodate a few more risers to accommodate a request for taller ceilings in the "utilitarian" part of the house. There's now a sink in the laundry room and "sliders" (sliding doors) for the utilitarian rooms up the master hallway.

The master bath has a larger window over the tub and another window to the side of the tub. The fenestration (fancy-schmancy architectural words for openings) in the master bedroom is refined, and there's now a door to the great outdoors.

The second floor is essentially the same except for the windows. There's now a wall-to-wall window spilling light over the stairs and stairwell (yay!) and a bigger window over the tub.

And for the first time we can now show you elevations! There are some subtle changes in the front facade from last week's realization such as the horizontal "indent" in the two-story mass that lines up with the roof line of the single-story mass and echoes the slab line and thickness and the line and height gap and thickness at the top of the front two-story mass. There's also the whisper thin overhangs now hovering over the second story windows.

subsequent (but inevitable) overanalysis

Since I just finished (over)analyzing Le Corbusier's "Towards an Architecture", let me say that we think this house will be a good machine for living in. I had a pal who has had six houses (!) built for her over time ask to see the plans. After pondering them (an older version of the above) for a bit, she noted two changes that needed to be made: Door out the master (check) and the door from the pantry opening into kitchen (check). She said they were good plans. And they are. The kitchen serves as the core of the house with the public space clearly offset from the private space. The powder room is also central but away from everything so everyone doesn't have to listen to Aunt Mary's struggles with last night's El Arroyo especial (I've read that the door of a powder room should never open to directly reveal the occupant at first blush. Sometime doors open on their own or the occupant forgets to lock it. Our powder room gives a wee bit of squealing distance.)

The master bedroom has nothing above it, so the missus and I won't be woken up by toilets flushing or jumping around by potential upstairs occupants. We asked about having a sliding door in the master bath since the door in the older plan opened into one of the sink stations. The architects upped the anti and suggested the master closet and laundry also have sliders. Great idea, wethinks. With the master pooper enclosed in its own doored space, all those sliders will be open and out of our way for our day-to-day business. When there's a dinner party, home tour, or search warrant, we can close 'em. Perfect! Also, the master bathroom and closet are away from the master, so if one of us has to get up early, neither of us has to come back into the bedroom (except for the obligatory goodbye smooch, of course!).

The house is arranged such that the primary living space is all on the first floor. Although this wasn't a dealbreaker for us (it wasn't on the first house) we think this will be important as we get older and more gamey and grumpy (Get off the lawn you damn kids!!!). Plus, my bride hopes a guest room on the second floor will keep the mother-in-law away.

Speaking of the lawn, you can see from the site plan that we have plans for grass-crete: Some technology (whether grasscrete or not) that allows grass to grow on the driveway. You might also be wondering about the potentially awkwardish drive up there. In case you're joining the show late, we don't plan on parking our daily drivers in the garage. The garage will be for the two micro-cars we have. That's also the reason for the carport: a place for covered parking for one of the dailys.

next steps

The architects have given us their in-house assessment of cost, and the assessment looks good. However, our gut tells us the builder's number will be higher, so we're hitting pause before we go to construction drawings to give the builder a chance to review the plans and numbers. We also need to review and comment on the elevations (the floor plans are pretty solid right now) and think about landscape architecture. We asked the architects to give us their price assumptions on certain elements (such as the master tub, kitchen appliances, and lighting fixtures) so we can assess whether or not those assumptions fit in with our desires (if you recall, we set the architects down the path of designing a house to fit a certain budget giving us the option of bringing additional money to the table to upgrade). We also need to ponder the difficult question of color (more on that later...).

Please share any comments you might have. We've appreciated the ones we've gotten so far!

an early morning lot slog

We met Architect 2d and a colleague of his, the “Usonian House expert” (more on this Usonian bidness in a coming post…), to slog the lot this morning. We gawked at the air compressors (yes, they are ridiculous), the electric service, the trees, the curb cut, the solar orientation, and the view potential. We (all of us) talked about solar exposure and potential locations of the garden, garage, sound control, and house. We (my bride and I) have decided to not express a strong preference on what goes where, in part because we don’t have a strong preference on what goes where at this point, and in part because we don’t tell our doctor what’s wrong with us. I read an article about how to interact with your doctor a few years ago. A major point that stuck with me was: Don’t tell the doctor what you think your malady is; tell the doctor your symptoms and let her tell you what she thinks you have. We’re trying to apply the same thing with the architect: Share the concern (for example, garages are ugly) and let the architect come up with the solution (and if he proposes that we not have a garage, I’m going on a five-day bender…).)

Architect 2d has decided not to look at The Architect’s design until later in his design process (makes perfect sense to me). At that point he wants to see it and find out what we liked about it and then explore how those elements might be included in his design. Unexpected, but nice!

We bid the architects adieu and continued with our day.

[photo of the lot in leafier days by mwah]

survey says...

Just got a tree and topo survey done on our lot. In a tree and topo survey, professional surveyors survey lot limits, location of important trees (generally larger than 8 inches in diameter, although we asked to have a few smaller ones located), and slope (topography) of the land surface. This is all important stuff because you don’t want the house built on top of nice trees (most architects won’t want to do this, appropriately so) and knowing the topography is important for designing the foundation and considering drainage. If you have existing structures, you’ll need to know where those are as well.

We solicited three bids and went with the low bid in small part because it was the low bid and in large part because they were the only ones that included a detailed list of deliverables. Our tree survey quote included a dozen trees (although the surveyors went ahead and did some more, including one just off the property line [per city code nearby trees have to be considered when designing a house]). If your lot is bigger and/or more topographic and/or has more trees, survey costs are probably higher. If you get a survey done when buying the property, be sure to also get the tree and topo done. Probably saves money in the long run.

We provided each surveyor we invited to bid a copy of the pre-existing survey (no tree, no topo) we got when we bought the property. We figured the company that made that survey would get the topo-tree work since they didn’t have to completely reinvent the wheel, but they didn’t seem to take that into consideration in their bidding (something to consider if you go with the original surveyor thinking you’ll get a built-in deal). A word of advice when getting a survey: ask whether or not you get the AutoCAD file (the digital version of the survey in vector format [with all of the lines]) and then ask to get the file after the survey is done. This is something your architect is going to want and will save you a little time and money during the design phase.

Some of you may be saying to yourself “Yo! Bubba! Shouldn’t you have already had a survey done with all that previous designing you did with Architect 1.0?” Excellent question. Methinks yes. However, in reality, this didn’t happen. In fact, the survey (or lack thereof) was the first hint that Architect 1.0 was going to be a potential pain to work with. For some reason (it was never explained), Architect 1.0 chose to do the tree survey himself. At the time, I wondered about this, since he had previously mentioned that we would need to get a tree and topo survey at some point and stressed the importance of getting three bids. However, he was the expert, so I didn’t make an issue of it, although it was a minor irritant because he charged us for measuring the location of the trees. That seemed odd since we were eventually (?) going to get them professionally surveyed.

After Architect 1.0 developed the initial design, I trekked to the site to stake out the floorplan. It was then I realized that he didn’t have the trees properly located. Most were off a relatively minor amount and one, one he designed the house around, was off some 20 feet, it’s actual location in the middle of the kitchen island (which could have been a nice design feature, I reckon!). The diagram above shows the result of the recent survey in black and where Architect 1.0 had the trees by his survey. At our next design meeting, I politely noted that the trees did not appear to be in the correct locations. Good Gawd, was that the wrong thing to say. He seemed surprised and asked how I measured them. I started my answer with “from the curb…” to which he immediately responded “That’s wrong. We don’t know where the curb is.” I noted that his survey showed the location of the curb (presumably this came from the professional survey we got when we bought the lot). Nevertheless, my measurement from the back of the lot confirmed the mislocation of said tree. “You can’t measure that way,” was his reply. I then asked where he measured from (because where else could he have?) to which he quickly pivot-pouted to “The location of the trees is not important.” I noted that he had designed the house around one of the trees (#58 on the survey above; see the red dot “to the south” of #58 to see where he placed the tree) not to mention that the house was pushed back on the lot more than it had to be due to the trees in the front and that one tree was much closer to the garage than he showed.

As a manager of some 60 to 80 people, I do not expect perfection. Perfection simply does not exist. And good, competent people make mistakes from time to time. One thing I do expect is an appropriate response to a mistake. Do you acknowledge that you made a mistake? Do you work to fix the mistake? Do you work to ensure it doesn’t happen again? It’s employees that refuse to admit they’ve done something wrong, even when faced with unimpeachable evidence to the contrary, that are trouble. I learned the hard way early in my career that it’s important to own my mistakes. In fact, so few people own their mistakes that when you do so, it pleasantly catches folks off guard. Yes, you’ve admitted you’re not perfect, but you’ve also shown that you can be trusted to ensure something is ultimately done right, even if mistakes are made, as they inevitably are, along the way.

You may also be asking “Bubba! Why didn’t y’all fire that dude when this happened?” In retrospect, I wish we had fully explored the tree issue when it happened. Perhaps we would have fired him at that time if he had remained recalcitrant and defensive, and perhaps it would have prevented later issues that ultimately became fatal to the relationship. (This was the first time Architect 1.0 demonstrated his penchant for (1) denying a mistake had been made [the trees remained misplaced through the design process] and (2), when faced with evidence to the contrary, blaming the client for the mistake.) At the time it seemed like a relatively minor issue (“Save the Hackberries!!!” is not one of our rallying cries; if the tree had been an ancient oak or pecan, perhaps it would have been different...). The booboos would eventually be resolved with a real survey (something I would have eventually insisted on) and the house shifted appropriately. And working with big egos is something I do at my day job. With that, rightly or wrongly, I’ve learned to work around egos and keep my eye on the prize. At this point, we had worked with Architect 1.0 for at least a year while lot-searching with no problems and were developing a healthy friendship, so we cut him some slack. Everyone has their quirks. On the other hand, this was the first time we had (politely) confronted him with something we thought he had done wrong, and his response was a little disturbing.

So to all you budding (and budded) architects out there (probably not) reading this blog: Turn down the ego and own your mistakes! Not doing so is disrespectful to your clients (my bride and I have five technical degrees between the two of us: we know how to use a tape measure) and bad for business. I also highly recommend letting the surveyors do the surveying.

what lies beneath...

Back when we were courting lots, one of the factors we considered before making an offer was the surface geology. What lies beneath your lot has huge implications for your foundation. Ultimately a geotechnical firm will come out to drill a few boreholes before you build to see what lies beneath, but you can get a hint of what’s under those weeds before you buy the lot. And what’s under those weeds could save you, or cost you, a lot of money.

The key words I used above were “state geologic survey”. These are the folks that have pulled on their hiking boots and figured out the types of rocks and where those rocks are. As a result of this geologic mapping, they’ve also put together geologic maps, colorful renderings of what lies beneath. In some cases, particularly urban areas, the geologic survey may have even put together special maps of environmental geology geared toward, among other things, building and what the geology means for foundations. Most potential homebuilders aren’t aware of these resources. As it turns out, I have a degree in geophysics and worked, in my deep dark past, at the state geologic survey for a number of years. That gave us a leg up in these geologic matters.

Ideally, you want to stay away from clay and shale. Clay typically shrinks and swells depending on its water content. Shrinking and swelling means the ground beneath your foundation actually moves up and down. This would be fine if the ground moved the same amount at the same rate, but this is rarely, if ever, the case. All that shrinking and swelling winds up cracking your foundation if you are on a slab. Depending on how the ground moves, walls may crack and pipes may break. And messing with broken pipes in a slab is an expensive and miserably messy experience. Note that not all clays and shales are the same. Some move much less than others, but most move. Solid rock is best for building.

Austin sits squarely on a geologic transition point, and this has important implications for foundations. Millions and millions of years ago, there was a mountain range here, an ancestral extension of the Appalachians, that ran through Texas via Dallas through Waco through Austin through San Antonio and then out yonder to big Bend (where you can still visit remnants of these old mountains). The mountains are long gone, eroded and buried by other sediments, but they strongly influence the present lay of the land.

When the Rocky Mountains pushed out of the Earth some 65 million years ago and again 23 million years ago, they also lifted up much of Texas up to and including the old Appalachians. This caused sediments to the east and south of the old mountain range to sluff off toward the Gulf of Mexico. This created the Balcones Fault Zone, which gives the central spine of Austin its geologic complexity (don’t worry: this fault zone has been dead for millions of years). Because of all this faulting, you can have solid rock here and, ten feet later, mushy clay there.

Fortunately, Austin has a report on environmental geology (“Environmental Geology of the Austin Area: An Aid to Urban Planning” published by the Bureau of Economic Geology. Yeah, it was published in 1976 but, trust me, the rocks haven’t changed much since then…). Included in this report is a simplified geologic map that shows the location of clay, limestone, sand and gravel, and basalt (Austin had a volcano pop off back in the good ole days!). The report also includes the more detailed geologic map; however, this requires more interpretation for a non-rock person. If your area doesn’t have such a report, I reckon you could talk to someone at your geologic survey about the rocks in the area or even try talking to a geotechnical firm to get a heads up on what to look for.

One thing we avoided when looking for lots was the Del Rio Clay. Living in a house on this clay is like riding a slow motion roller coaster, including the screaming… Del Rio Clay was a deal breaker for us. If you’re looking to build close to a creek, then you’ll probably have to deal with alluvium, sand and gravel in the creek bed, which can extend for quite a distance from the present location of the creek. Friends building a house nearby and close to the creek had to install piers 30 feet deep on one side of their house to hit competent rock for their foundation. Another think we looked for was faulting. Building over a fault can be a problem, especially in California! Here in Austin it’s a potential problem if there’s different geology on the other side of the fault. For example, limestone on one side and shale on the other can be a challenge if your foundation has to straddle the fault. Same rocks on both sides? No problem.

So what did we find under our lot, at least according to the geologic maps? Austin Chalk. Good solid fine-grained limestone that is great stuff to build on. Nice neighbors around the corner from our lot that just built a house with geothermal (more on that later…) were kind enough to show us their geotechnical report. Thin topsoil, 10 feet or so of weathered (tan) but competent chalk, and then many feet of unweathered blue chalk. It’s a beautiful sight (and not just because I did my dissertation on the Austin Chalk south of Dallas).

One thing to note: geologic maps are often interpretive. Geologists get clues of the geology from where the rock is exposed, from boreholes, and from the vegetation growing on the surface (certain plants prefer certain geology). In other words, they have to fill in the blanks by connecting the geologic dots. That means that the maps may not be accurate, especially down to the resolution of a city lot. For example, if we had seen that a fault had Del Rio Clay on our neighbor’s lot but Austin Chalk on our lot, we would have been a little nervous. That fault probably wasn’t mapped at a lot-level of accuracy, in which case we might have Del Rio Clay under our lot or, even worse, Del Rio Clay and Austin Chalk. The other thing to note is that these maps show surface geology. For example, that limestone you see may only be a few feet thick or it maybe a hundred feet thick. If that the limestone is underlain by shale, a far less competent rock (as is the case with the Austin Chalk underlain as it is by the Eagle Ford Shale), thickness is important. However, if your property is in the middle of a lot of stuff of a certain preferred geologic flavor (as we are), you are probably OK. Ultimately, your geotechnical contractor will confirm your situation.

oh no! we’re surrounded by setbacks!

If you’re building on a piece of property within city limits, you probably have zoning restrictions. Zoning restrictions tell you what you can and can’t do with your property. For example, you can’t build a gas station on a lot that is zoned for residential use, at least not easily. Zoning generally tells you how far away from your property’s edge you can build (something called “setbacks”), how high you can build, how much impervious cover is allowed, and even, in some cases, how many square feet you can have.

Our lot is zoned “SF-2”, short for “Single Family Residence – Standard Lot”. If your city is worth two hoots and a holler, it should have all of this info on its web site. In fact, you should even be able to figure out your zoning from its web site as well. To be SF-2 in Austin, you have to have a lot of at least 5,750 square feet. This zoning also comes with a height limit (35 feet), restrictions on usage (for example, we could have a bed and breakfast or an urban farm on our lot [fire up the tractor!] but not a duplex), minimum lot width (50 feet), maximum building coverage (40 percent), maximum impervious cover (45 percent), and minimum setbacks (25 feet for front yard, 5 feet for side yard [15 for street-side side yard], and 10 feet for rear yard).

In Austin, zoning gets a little more complicated because we have something called the “McMansion Ordinance”. After a slew of sun-blocking McMansions popped up like cowpies in a feedlot during the last building boom, the city put some additional restrictions on certain parts of town. For example, McMansion applies to our lot, so instead of being able to build to 35 feet, we can only build to 32 feet. McMansion puts a “building envelope” over the lot and restricts square footage. Because our lot is bigger-than-the-average-lot, we don’t have any worries, at least for what we want to do. Your (hopefully local) architect should have a good familiarity with the your city’s zoning requirements (and zoning personnel and personalities).

Just because your zoning says you can’t do something doesn’t mean you can’t do it. One path is to do it anyways and duke it out in court once the city finds out (but as the saying goes: “You can’t fight city hall…”). The other path is to seek a variance. A variance is an official reprieve from the city from a certain zoning requirement. Although it sounds rather serious, cities give variances all the time. In fact, in my humble opinion, it’s appropriate that they do. Rules are rules, but rules usually don’t anticipate all circumstances. And if you’re close to meeting the standards (the parameters of which are somewhat arbitrarily set), why shouldn’t you be able to do want you want to do?

Let’s say you have a lot zoned SF-2 but, instead of having the required 5,750 square feet, you only have 5,700 square feet. Guess what: You can’t build on the lot! The variance system allows you to go to the city and get an official reprieve from that requirement so you can build. When seeking a variance, you have to be reasonable. Let’s say that instead of 5,700 square feet, you had 2,500. Unless you gave heartily to the mayor in last year’s election, you’re probably not going to get that variance. Variances take time and, if you use professionals to represent you, money. So you definitely want to carefully consider any required variances before you buy a lot. Again, if you architected up early, he or she can help you out.

I served on our current neighborhood association’s steering committee for more than 10 years. Because we are an older neighborhood (established before 1900), there are no enforceable neighborhood-wide covenants in place. The only influence we have on development is through the variance and rezoning processes. Because these are city and, therefore, public processes, there are opportunities for public input and influence on the final decisions. In Austin, neighborhood associations are fairly powerful, so if you, the landowner, don’t have the support of the neighbors and the neighborhood association, you may be in for the ride of your life.

There’s a right way and a wrong way to get a variance or a zoning change. The wrong way is to try and bypass the neighborhood association and go straight to the Board of Adjustments (the name of the body appointed by city councilfolk and the mayor to oversee variance requests, at least in Austin). You might get away with this if it’s a minor request, but if it’s not a minor request, you just made whoopie to yourself. The right way is to meet with the neighbors and neighborhood association and be honest and forthright with your goals. You need their trust, and you have to earn it. All neighborhood associations have had multiple bad experiences with developers, so they approach developers or anyone who smacks of a developer with great caution. Your every move and word will be scrutinized.

Many times I’ve interacted, as a steering committee member, with developers and landowners that cannot believe that they “have to” meet with and negotiate with the neighborhood association. Meeting with the association is not required, but you are almost certainly assured smooth sailing through the process if you have the neighborhood on your side. If you are looking for minor variances, then getting a stamp of approval (or expression of neutrality) from the neighborhood association will assure smooth sailing. If you’re looking for something more major, then prepare to do a little wheeling and dealing. If you and your agent are doing it right, then you’re listening carefully to concerns and doing what you honestly can to address those concerns whether or not you agree that the concerns are concerns. It’s also good to ensure that you and/or your agents are polite and professional to everyone at all times, even if you and the neighborhood aren’t seeing eye-to-eye. If you want to create a neighborhood jihad against your project, go ahead and be a jackass. I hope you have deep pockets and a strong tolerance for disappointment.

Not all neighbors and neighborhood associations are reasonable, so you may find yourself going to city hall anyway. Again, be polite and professional to everyone all the time. I’ve seen developers be their own worst enemy by insulting city staff and even city representatives, snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. Be logical. Be truthful. Be nice.

Several years ago the lot behind our house and our neighbor’s house sold. It was a tiny lot on a former alley zoned for light office. Our neighborhood plan expressed a desire for this lot to eventually be zoned some flavor of single family. Unfortunately, when our neighborhood plan was approved by city council, staff miscoded the desired future zoning as mixed use. The owner, someone in the business of buying and selling land, came to us (the neighbors and the neighborhood association) requesting support to change the zoning to mixed use. His desire: to build a single-family home on the lot that his family would live in.

The neighborhood wasn’t too keen on supporting mixed use zoning on this lot facing a paved alleyway. Given the expressed desire to build a single family home for his family on this lot (suspicious given that the lot was bounded by parking lots on two sides and sat across from dumpsters), the neighborhood found a special flavor of single family zoning that would achieve the owner’s stated goal. But that wasn’t good enough. He wanted mixed-use zoning. At this point, the owner lost any credibility with the neighborhood. We found a way for him to do exactly what he said he wanted to do without mixed-use zoning, but that wasn't good enough. What did he really want to do? And since he wasn’t sharing, all we could assume was the worst. After a bitter eight-month battle that went all the way to city hall (twice), the owner lost.

I went to nearly every hearing during that affair and learned some important things. One is that if you hire someone to represent you, go check him out beforehand and attend hearings on your issue to watch him. The guy the owner hired to represent him was terrible. He wasn’t familiar with the process (something I geekily learned by pouring over city codes, bylaws, and pamphlets and attending earlier unrelated hearings to understand the culture and modus operandi of the different boards, commissions, and councils we had to work through). And even worse, when expressing frustration about things not going his way (in large part because he hadn't done his homework), the agent publicly lashed out at city employees as incompetent.

Never ever lash out at city employees, even if you deeply believe the nasty things you believe to be true. City folks are supposed to be helpful and neutral, and they usually are, but they are human just like you and me (it’s true!). How helpful do you think you could be to someone who publicly accuses you of being incompetent you in front of your bosses and the world? The other thing to consider is that staff tends to have close relationships with the various commissioners, board members, and councilfolk they work with. Insulting staff very likely insults the folks voting on your issue.

I could go on and on about this (and realize that the aforementioned will mostly fall on deaf ears for those that most need to hear it because the first law of jackasses is: “If you’re a jackass, you generally don’t realize you’re a jackass.”), but I’ll leave it at that. The bottom line when pursuing a variance or zoning change is to be reasonable, be truthful, be polite, and be professional. If you do this, you place your case in the best possible light, and facts, not emotions, will (hopefully) be the deciding factors.

lien on me

Before heading off to the office this morning I noticed a letter from Nelda Wells Spears on the table. Ms. Spears, who has a pseudo-awesome name, is our county tax assessor/collector. We get yearly letters from her asking us to register our vehicles. However, this letter looked a little different. Having an extra 23 seconds before needing to hit the road, I quickly opened the envelope and unfolded the enclosed paperwork. My eyes nearly Hindenburged out of my head: It was a lien against our lot for failure to pay taxes along with a bill for $3,300! Since I had to drive to work right then and there, this surprise problem was going to have to wait until the evening for resolution. This revelation, combined with a double shot latte and a small Ziploc bag of walnuts, made me extra fun to be with at the office today.

Returning home this evening, I was able to imbibe a couple glasses of mediocre red wine and spend some quality time with the fine print of Ms. Spear’s love letter. As it turns out, the lien part was no big deal. The many-worded letter explained that state law automatically places a lien on property on January 1^st and that the lien remains on the property until the tax bill is paid. That made me feel a little guilty for being so hard on the stapler earlier in the day…

The next issue was: Why was I getting a tax bill? Wasn’t that built into our payment to the bank like our house? Umm, no… It seems, for some reason, that with land the bank is less concerned about you paying taxes on the property. OK. That explains why the payment seemed lower than it should have been.

The issue after that was: Why such a high freakin’ bill? We had only owned the lot for a few months. Had the previous owner bailed on their share of the taxes? Ummm, no… After looking at the closing documents, the previous owner’s share of the taxes were built into the give and take of closing costs. (If you’re from out of state and from a place with low property taxes, you may have yelped to yourself “Good Gawd!” at that tax bill. Since we don’t have an income tax, the Lone Star State has got to get its pound of flesh out of you somehow. That somehow is property taxes.). The closing documents probably deserve a separate post. My bride and I, between us, share five technical degrees and struggled with understanding the non-intuitive nature of the closing documents. I've read that the feds are working to make them easier to understand. Please do, Uncle Sam.

Lesson learned. Next time, ask the who and what about property taxes. And expect a big ole bill (with a lien) at the beginning of the year.

Ms. Spears: The check is in the mail…