Tell people you are planning to build a house, and you’ll get all kinds of reactions. Some say, “Making 17,000 decisions sounds daunting.” Others say, “Picking everything out yourself will be so much fun.” Still others say, “Your marriage might not survive it.”
With dreams of a bigger house on a lot we didn’t want to leave, that’s just what my husband, Jeff, and I set out to do last summer as newlyweds.
Looking ahead at construction loans and blueprints felt overwhelming at first, but we quickly learned that hiring a good contractor who deeply understood all the details of the building process and how to do it well would save us who knows how many headaches.
We also can’t imagine heading into the project without our contractor’s professional design team to guide us through making more decisions than we ever thought we’d have to make about everything from exterior paint to grout color while helping us stay on budget. Walking into a store with millions of pieces of hardware is daunting, but it turns out it can indeed be “so much fun,” as the people say, with the right team.
Even with talented professionals on our side, the building process did fill our heads with an endless litany of stress-inducing questions. If we can design a house any way you want, are we picking the most perfect way to do it? Is this space going to function like we think it will? Does it matter if the handles of our kitchen appliances match? Does anyone even look at the handles? Is the power company ever going to connect our power? Are we crazy to be doing this?
Along with the stress, though, came the magic. Each time we went by the construction site, it was like watching an infant learn to do new things as you see walls go up, countertops and tile be installed, and cabinets and walls be painted. Who knew we’d be so excited about our brass door knobs and how well cabinet drawers slide open?
And it’s not just any designs either – it’s the ones that brought to life our dreams of creating a home that was distinctly ours. For us, that meant planning for an abundance of built-in bookshelves to accommodate our ever-growing collection of good stories; a nook for a piano for my professional musician husband and amateur self; and an open floor plan for sharing meals, conversations and quality time with groups of friends and family.
Looking back on our decisions now, we realized while I was writing this column that much of what we designed were modern takes on 1920s and ‘30s homes. A spacious front porch harkens back to days when houses were built more deep than wide and architecturally encouraged more neighbor connection than individual privacy. Bookshelves on either side of the living room fireplace remind me of Craftsman bungalows where we’ve spent so much time with friends. Ten-foot ceilings make any space feel bigger and more grand, and we hope that tiles and light fixtures with a historic vibe stand the test of time instead of looking distinctly 2024.
As we get ready to move into our house this month – ahead of schedule, no less (thanks Ketcham and Co.!) – I’m happy to report that Jeff and I are not only still happily married but that we’re also grateful we built a home that we now get to share. And we’re also very grateful it’s all over.
Madoline Markham Koonce is a writer and editor who has worked for several Birmingham-based local and national publications. Most recently, she’s enjoyed freelance writing about local people and homes for the Over the Mountain Journal.
