Can’t really do that with rose gardens, though.
If I owned that house, I’d want to sell it with an “I beg your pardon” clause, wherein I did actually promise you a rose garden and you should keep it up.
I was semi-prepared to have the real estate agent tell me when we were selling our house last year that the extensive gardens would turn off buyers. Instead she thought it was a plus, and we made a quick sale to an older couple who seemed entranced with the plantings.
Of course, they wound up wasting no time having the two huge maples that shaded the front of the house cut down. Thankfully the back yard isn’t visible from the street, so I can’t see what’s happened to the perennial and subtropical borders.
You just have to resolve yourself to garden impermanence. You enjoy it while it’s there, then if the next occupants want to pave paradise and put in a parking lot, no problem as long as you get a decent price.
First house my husband and I bought together had some sort of tree or shrub out front that the sellers told us we shouldn’t remove. It wasn’t in the contract - they just told us.
Heh - right. Like we’re going to landscape based on your sentiment…
…and that’s when the demonic tree sprites began their reign of terror.
I took out my own old-world roses after my daughter got badly gashed. Replaced it with some thornless roses and some peonies scattered around the yard, and a row of thornless blackberries, which were a lot more useful and fun.
I’ll be moving on to other hobbies. There are loads of hobbies in this world just waiting to be discovered!
When you start evaluating new homes based on whether there are stairs, then perhaps the machine shop doesn’t fit into the equation.
My wife’s baby grand piano, on the other hand… I think it’s a positive influence on a home for sale, and it definitely will follow us.
I’d probably remove it, I don’t really value them. That space could be used for a hammock or a hot tub. I don’t want yard maintenance, and I suspect (don’t know for sure) that roses require some maintenance that I’d prefer not to deal with.
I was responding to a specific post talking about realtors wanting everything as neutral as possible. What I meant in that particular post was that a realtor wouldn’t necessarily recommend cutting down a rose garden before trying to sell the property (it sounds like it was a well-kept one, not a wild thorny jungle).
Less than a nice lawn. Roses are weeds. If you prune them correctly, you get roses. If you prune them badly, you get roses. If you don’t prune them at all, you get roses. If you don’t maintain them you get a scraggly overgrown garden – but the same is true of a lawn.
I have both, and I spend more time on the grass. I don’t mind either the grass or the roses. But what you should have mentioned is that roses have thorns.
Though TBF that can be a benefit if there are foxes or racoons in your area. I hate foxes for various reasons (garden-destroying cat-killing fuckers) and it’s helpful that we have a rosebush right outside my daughter’s bedroom window.
That was certainly true for us. Our house was empty when we bought it, and I had trouble envisioning how our furniture would fit; I was concerned it wouldn’t. Even though we measured everything, it still just seemed small. It turned out to be plenty of space.
We were charmed, though, by the house’s otherwise lived-in look. We’d seen a lot of places that had been flipped and staged, and it was really hard to picture ourselves in those catalogue-like spaces. The living room furniture was always arranged in a way that left no apparent place for a TV. The spare bedroom would have a desk just floating out in the middle of it, like computers and lamps don’t have cords. There was no hamper, no vacuum cleaner, nothing to help us picture how we were actually going to live there. Of course, the house we bought had none of those things either, but it didn’t have stupid arrangements we had to mentally erase first. The house we bought did have a wooden cutting board glued over the hole in the counter where the stove used to be before it was moved to the obviously more sensible spot by the window, some goofy stencil art in the garage, and an anatomically-correct gnome. We loved these things. It felt like the house had a soul.
There’s good staging, and bad staging. If done well, it certainly enhances the presentation of the house. If done poorly, it’s still better than someone living in a house full of clutter.
A sizable rose garden could well require considerable maintenance, especially if it involves hybrid tea roses needing frequent spraying for bugs and diseases as well as fertilizing. On the other hand there are old/heirloom roses that grow happily at abandoned homesteads and in cemeteries without attention.
Are you saying there are objective standards for good vs bad staging? Some broad principles on which there is general consensus among professionals? Or is it entirely down to the varied personal tastes of individuals? Because I was talking about homes that looked like they were done professionally. They certainly looked nice. They just didn’t look like anyplace I could see myself relaxing with a beer.
Exactly correct. I this case there was frequent (2 or 3 times a week) spraying of soapy water required to keep the Japanese beetles from eating the blooms.
I occasionally drive past a house I sold over 15 years ago. I’m pleased to see my landscaping has matured, but I’m a little unhappy the owners haven’t continued to improve things. And I get really pissed off if the lawn is overgrown.
I can’t do this.
I can walk into an empty room with a set of planning documents showing where things will be and imagine the room with those things (so long as someone swears that everything in the drawing is to scale). I can rearrange real furniture or furniture on a planning document in my head (“like this, but the counter is over here”). I can easily imagine different flooring, furniture, colors on the wall*, materials, etc. Clutter and furniture is fine - those I can imagine away.
But you stick me in a room with blank walls and no furniture and suddenly I am unable to imagine how big a table (or bed, or refrigerator, or any other piece of furniture) is. I need a reference point to anchor off of (doesn’t matter if it’s real or virtual. Just something). I’m the person that staging is for.
From the people of my acquaintance, if you prune them correctly, you get deer. If you don’t prune them correctly, you get deer. Doesn’t matter how much time and work you put into them - the deer will eat them before you get a chance to actually see a rose. (This does not stop them from spending inordinate amounts of time on their deer feed)
*almost always. When I was house shopping, one of the open houses I went to had a neon orange accent wall. Not just bright orange, this thing glowed. It was just so overwhelming, I couldn’t imagine it away. I could picture their shag carpet being replaced and my furniture rather than theirs but in my imagination that all sat in a room with that hideous orange wall.
Yes, exactly. This was the kind of thing I was referring to above.
We added an “annex” to our house - a 1-bedroom suite with full kitchen for my MIL. I designed the whole thing with a CAD program, and we even floor-planned the furniture, so that all her stuff would fit. When the slab was poured, and the wall framing was up, my wife was super worried that it was going to be too small - she kept walking around fretting that we had made a mistake. I assured her that everything would fit, with plenty of room. As soon as the roof went on, and the drywall was up, the space suddenly looked big enough (and, it was perfect - exactly as the CAD layout showed).