...coming to you in segments. Starting from the beginning.
Our Broadmoor house was built in 1945. When we started talking about moving, the only thing that got seven-months-pregnant me excited was new construction. No random holes in the floor of the basement filled with sand (sure, it might be where the sump pump once was...or where they put the bad children), no metal shower stalls, no wondering about the electric behind your walls.
We found a town we liked.
We found a lot we liked.
And then it was time to find a house. We quickly learned that building up was less expensive than building out. I have always loved cape cods, but a lot of the modern cape plans have master bedrooms on the first floor. Which not only makes the house wide, but I also liked the idea of having our bedroom upstairs where the kids would be.
We didn't want a big house. We wanted a house that we would use every room, every day. We wanted an open living area with few walls. We knew we didn't need any formal spaces and that we needed lots of closets since we have a high water table and a basement wasn't an option.
I looked at approximately 3,289 plans. No joke. I still remember the night I was sitting at our kitchen table on Broadmoor and found this:
You might notice that we flipped the plan. Having the garage on the left worked better for our driveway and, if you must know, our septic system.
We made more changes to the plan - most notably closing off the "dining room" to make a playroom for the kids (which will probably be Ken's office in the future when the kids move up to the bonus room, which is now Ken's office). We added a mudroom off the garage. We made a lot of those doors pocket doors. We bumped out the whole back of the house by two feet and added a screen porch off the eating area.
And we got to this:
Getting closer. We added windows, made the shower big. Huge, in fact. Moved the mudroom door. But the biggest thing was the change to the kitchen. The more I thought about it, the more I didn't like the layout of the kitchen. There was no window. I loved my window in my Broadmoor kitchen. And my beloved farmhouse sink would be totally hidden from view. And there was something about it that felt closed off. So we came up with this (what I call a modified-galley kitchen):
It was time to build a house.