Buying into a dream of my own

Jay Dedrick, Rocky Mountain News

Published December 24, 2005 at midnight

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I'm not sure when it occurred to me: It might have been the wintry day that Christopher Herr huddled in the cold interior of his unfinished home, with no heat or electricity, and began assembling dozens of cabinets. Or maybe it was after one of the monster construction trucks got stuck in the mud, giving builder James Casanova fits. Whenever it happened, the thought hit hard:

There's no way I could do this.

But even though I knew I didn't have the drive or skills to take on a project as ambitious as Christopher's, I fell in love with the idea of moving into a new, personalized home. So I followed in the footsteps of Christopher and his wife, Tina.

Well, not exactly. Christopher worked for years on designing the perfect dwelling for his family, and put in untold hours of labor during construction. My wife, Melissa, and I went the quicker, less stressful route, and chose a new production home in a builder's suburban development.

OK, so maybe it's not the stuff of a 13-part series, on TV or in print. Deliberating over the choice between off-white Formica countertops or beige? Not sexy.

But the experience is as memorable and meaningful to us as the Box House adventure is to the Herrs. Just as Christopher and Tina did, my wife and I moved into our first free-standing house this year. All ours.

Some might say that's where the similarity ends.

Christopher's sensibility is bold and modern, sleek and stylish. He speaks eloquently of truth in materials, authenticity. Blending into the surroundings. Native colors that please the eye, and textures that beg to be touched.

My house boasts siding that fools you into believing it's wood. Brick that looks rugged, but contributes no structural support to the building. A fireplace with logs that seem in need of stoking but simply flame on with the flick of a switch.

Red brick complements green siding, and tan trim lines the eaves of the gables. I'm told it's a New England-style cottage; based strictly on memories from long-ago visits to Boston, I can neither confirm nor deny.

About a year and a half ago, photographer Ellen Jaskol and I hiked up the Herrs' steep hillside north of Boulder for the first time to watch and learn. Ellen toted multiple cameras and lenses. I lugged a small spiral notebook and ballpoint pen. Hey, I offered to help with the cameras (no, really). That was taxing enough. I couldn't imagine how difficult the terrain would prove for James' crew.

The experience left me all the more thankful as I dropped in on my own house as it was built, on a small, mercifully flat plot about 20 miles away.

One big difference between our experience and the Herrs': labor. Christopher and Tina were big believers in sweat equity. My wife and I chose documentation over participation - our digital camera got a workout.

I've always admired guys like Christopher who could step away from the desk job and prove just as adept at home improvement. The men's men who can dart in and out of Home Depot, then have the plumbing fixed, tile laid and ceiling fan installed by noon on a Saturday. I'm not one of those guys.

Having a new house sure inspired me to try. I took pride in assembling a bathroom cabinet and shelves from kits. The power screwdriver is my friend.

But I also failed miserably at such seemingly simple tasks as anchoring a towel rod in drywall, or adding a mantle above the fireplace. The sight of a nail-sized hole growing into a chasm big enough for a beanbag toss was all it took for me to swallow my pride and admit defeat. The power drill is not my friend.

Christopher had all the right tools for realizing his dream. I remembered his thoughts on lighting when we decided to add a couple of can lights to our family room. His search for energy-efficient windows made me appreciate those that were installed at my place. Tina's attention to design detail inspired me as I helped pick out something comparatively small - drawer pulls - that made a big impact at my house.

After nearly three months, I still smile when I look at those drawer pulls. I enjoy peering at the moon through a high window above the fireplace. I'm having fun putting together an office behind the den's French doors. In fact, I love nearly everything about the house, just as Christopher and Tina love their home. I walk on hardwood and carpet; the Herrs step on concrete. I see city and plains from my windows; they see hillside. I sleep beneath a steep-pitched roof; they sleep beneath a flat one.

The shapes of our dreams are very different. The warmth and comfort we find in them are the same.

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