We have had more rain in the last couple of weeks than I can remember. (Don’t go correcting me on that. I admit to having a very poor memory.) Our new dog, Scout, is energetic and loves to go for walks, so she has been assisting me in my Walking My Butt Off campaign.
Even though we’ve bought her a raincoat, today is simply too slushy to venture out.
Our neighborhood was designed over 100 years ago and every time I go for a walk, I see something I never noticed before. Lately I’ve been concentrating on garages. Many of them were built with what I assume were maid’s quarters. Some of the older ones have living spaces on the same level.
More likely, the living space is apt to be above the garage bays, like this newer wood frame one with a Juliet balcony.
One garage in particular fascinates me because it is so large and lovely in its Tudor style that it doesn’t seem to need the very grand house in front of it. If it is an in-law apartment, they must be very, very nice in-laws.
As the property has a large wrought iron fence around it, not to mention a barking dog, it’s hard to get good photographs without risking arrest.
Yep, that’s all garage. The house isn’t in the photograph at all.
Not that I have garage envy. After all, we have an eight-room unit above our garage, too. It’s called “our house.” We live on a downslope.
On the street behind us, a 50’s Cape Cod home with two-car attached garage has been the object of a year-long renovation by its young owner. The work has been meticulous and since it looked completed, we were surprised when a structure started rising behind the house. This is the view from our sunroom. At first we thought it was a pool house, but there is no pool.
We’re calling it the Taj Garage.