May 24, 2013 (Memorial Day)

A cold, rainy Memorial Day. This text from Dan with accompanying photo: “Now that is a rock pile!” He had spent the holiday on the land, removing the stone walls around the ponds and getting everything ready for the metal recyclers to cart away tomorrow. Text #2: “We pulled the venting, pipes, furnace, water heater, washer/dryer out of the basement to the first floor and are going to put it in the dumpster tomorrow,” My reply: “Down in that basement on a dark gloomy rainy day? Don’t have nightmares tonight!” His return: “The firefighters cut a nice sky lite for us to see down there. :)"

The Rockpile:

The Skylight:

Thursday, May 23, 2013

The Madison Fire Department “conducted exercises” in/on the house today. Sarah drove by and emailed photos: “Whoa! Trees are gone and fire dept is here to saw down your house!”

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

This is the day the trees came down. Lena and I drove by on our way to school in the morning. At 7:50, the chipper shredder was in the yard and we couldn’t see the generous arms of the apple. Later Bob emailed: “The pear tree is down and gone and it's only 10:10 am. Your project is already six hours ahead of schedule. Congrats.” When we returned in the evening, Michael Buechner’s complete woodland habitat was no more. His brother Doug stopped by and took pictures. Solemn. The good news, though, is that many trees are safe: seven redbuds, several birches, a dogwood, a young oak, a spruce, a giant maple, and the shrubs and young trees that were moved out of the way a few days ago. It's still going to be a shady paradise.

Monday, May 20, 2013

The place bustled today. Habitat for Humanity carried off anything they thought they could use: the kitchen cabinets, light fixtures, even the front door. The West High teachers dug up whatever they could find along Highland Ave. Clyde moved the trees to the southeast back corner, where they are now loosely packed into the soil. How will I keep them alive through the summer...?

This evening, after everyone had gone, Lena and I spent an hour with the big trees. An enormous, stately maple on Kendall, right where the front door will be. A pear tree that was apparently billed as a dwarf when planted and will not be missed by Bob and Mary, over whose driveway it arches and drops pear bombs from a height of 30 feet . A straight and tall spruce that must be home to a bird family or two. Another conifer, less massive but more lovely, on Kendall. And an apple tree that’s perfect for a treehouse and is in full bloom now, poised to produce another round of fruit in the fall. Tonight we had to say goodbye.

Sunday, May 19, 2013

We spent the weekend clearing a large garden area under a trio of redbuds in a corner of the lot and moving bleeding hearts, hostas, daylilies, iris, bulbs, and daisies to it. Some daisies and hostas have found new homes at Mary’s, Sandy’s, and Sarah’s, but most are located in or relocated to safe areas of the yard. Also, a few teachers at West High School left a charming note on the door, asking if they could save any of the plants before the demolition. They will come tomorrow for bulbs, daylilies, and some of these sweet yellow fleurs.

Thursday, May 16, 2013

I met landscaper Clyde (and his precocious 6-year-old daughter Heather--ideal name for a plant person’s child) at the granary to identify and label the trees he could relocate. Final tally: two redbuds, five roses, a holly, the topiary tree, a boxwood, a viburnum, and a lily that made him whistle, “Now THAT’S a specimen.”

Dan and the Plan

Dan came along the first time I saw the house, thanks to my agent Laurie. Dan is both easygoing and can-do. Sure, we can put up a nice little urban cottage here, he said. He spent the next several months working with and getting to know the process with the city. And working with me on a house and site plan that would make the most of the southern exposure, the deep yard, and the bounty of flora and flagstone. On March 22, he submitted the final plans to the city, and on May 6 they were approved. The approval included a name change: from 311 Highland Ave to 2425 Kendall Ave. Let the construction begin…

311 Highland Avenue: A Brief History

The house at 311 Highland didn’t start out as a house. It was a farm outbuilding--a granary, specifically. According to Madison city records, it was built in 1921, but neighbor Joyce says it was actually built in the late 1800s (along with her house). The first floor is 534 square feet; the second floor is 180. The ceiling height is about six and a half feet; upstairs it’s lower still. The basement is rather scary, with crumbling cinder block walls and a mysterious cistern half buried in mysterious fill behind a mysterious half-wall with a mysterious picture-window hole. In my memory, the floor is dirt, but that’s probably not true.

Next door live my wonderful neighbors-to-be Bob and Mary. (They're pictured below in front of 311, where you can also see the redbuds and Japanese maple responding to spring.) Bob is in his 80s now, and he grew up in that white house next door with the cheerful green shutters. The historian of the ‘hood, he was the first to tell us about the original farm, the granary status of 311 Highland, and its evolution over the decades. This evolution includes an illegal addition that spills onto his property and makes his driveway inaccessible to anything wider than a standard car.


Michael Buechner had owned the place since 1988. Michael was a landscaper, and during his first few years, he turned the yard at the corner of Highland and Kendall into a showcase. Ponds lined with flagstone, stocked with koi, and home to a mallard couple. Maples, redbuds, roses, dogwoods, birches, topiary, exotic perennials. Even my friend Sandy, whose baby is now 20 years old, talks about walking Tim in the stroller by that house to gaze. But Michael moved to Minnesota in the mid-1990s and rented the house to a student—the same student for 18 years. During that time the yard ran wild and was taken over by weeds. By the time I saw it in August 2012, the day after the For Sale sign went up, the cover of weeds and volunteer trees was extensive. 311 Highland was a sleeping beauty.