Long-promised architecture post

In the first couple of years that Leah and I were dating, Leah's parents purchased a parcel of land far on the outskirts of the city of Tucson, Arizona. It was on this parcel that the Fenecks were going to build their dream home.

John is an architect. He's done a few homes and a lot of re-designs and renovations and such. One of the first things that I learned was that architects don't just design skyscrapers and the Guggenheim at Bilbao.

The House was the last big project that John and Sandy were going to undertake before they plan their funerals. After three kids that turned out pretty well, this was the last real collaborative effort that they would be working on together.

Which is not to say that I didn't try and put my two cents in. I did some sketches on the back of a place mat at Claim Jumper, but they weren't interested in geodesic domes on stilts. Instead, they designed this:

It's actually level; it's my camera that is slanty. It's a really cool building, or pair of buildings. The floor plan is really open, and the kitchen is huge and features a fantastic range that I've maybe used more than anyone else. There are a couple of interesting interior features to the main building (picured above).

One of them is the fact that the walls don't go up to the ceiling. That's kind of cool because you can eavesdrop from everywhere. One drawback is that if you want any privacy when you're visiting, you have to run out to the guesthouse. But there are a lot of really nice nooks and crannies.

The other cool thing is the honest-to-God spiral staircase in the northeast corner of the building:

I think that they borrowed this idea from my original sketches. But it's really cool. Well, it's cooler as a feature than it maybe is as a functioning piece of design. There are a couple reasons for this. One is that while I'm sure the staircase is actually functionally sound, it feels quite rickety. The other thing is that you have a relatively tight radius that you're turning over, and by the time you make the two turns to get to the top of the stairs, you're a little disoriented.

Anyway, when we go down to visit (like we're doing again this week), Leah and I stay in the guest house:
The guest house functions as an office for John and a place where one can drop a deuce with some modicum of privacy. I'm sorry now that I didn't take more pictures of the interiors. The building is essentially divided in two halves, with John's office on the south side and the guest room on the north side. In the back is the privy and a mini kitchen (including a very small range). It's really nice and hopefully they'll put a flat screen TV in there soon so I never have to visit with the in-laws ever again.

More importantly, because John is self-employed and works all the time, this means that the house truly was the last collaboration of the Feneck marriage, and now they each have their own spaces and only have to sleep together (as far as we know--there is a bed in the guest room, after all).

There are a couple issues that I think were under-resolved. The first is that the main house doesn't have a picture window facing west. Arizona sunsets are too beautiful to put a wall in front of, and I kind of felt like the Fenecks were kicking God in the family jewels by putting storage on their west wall. Another is that they put Sandy's collection of wind chimes on the facade of the guest house, and whenever it's windy out, it sounds like you're sleeping in the bell tower of Notre Dame.

But the biggest problem is that the house lacks a name. I'm tired of saying that "We're going to Leah's parent's house." The house isn't really in Tucson, so we can't say that. What I'd like is a nice, British-style estate name, like Howard's End or Summerville. The house sits on five or six acres, so I think that it would befit a nice moniker. Help me out, readers. Any ideas?