Most folks come into Scout House looking to feather their nests, but often the conversation turns to bigger issues. How do you tackle a fixer? Who can do a screen porch? What happens when your house makes you cry? And one question I always gets asked: “Where, oh where, do YOU live?”
In my case, it’s a good question because I’ve remodeled and lived in something like twelve houses since moving to the Berkshires in 2005. But where I live now is The Green Houses on Humphrey Street in Great Barrington. This is my “terminal address,” the place I expect to leave feet-first, and my best and final answer to the question of “How to live.”
The Green Houses is a project that started with a simple Scandinavian dream—specifically, a dream of co-housing that would work for aging-in-place. Co-housing has a few simple design principles: houses that face each other, not the street; shared amenities; a shared culture. Neighborliness and thrift. Most importantly, connection—an intentional antidote to the lonely suburban lives that too many Americans lead, lives made baffling by isolation. Co-housing is the opposite: it’s a way to live with friends.
So, we held a few meetings, gathering people who like to eat (and like to eat each other’s cooking.) Our basic idea was: let’s create a grown-up commune for foodies.
As we talked, we looked around. Various ideas were impractical; a remote forest camp, an urban farm. People drifted away from the project, but I’m a stubborn sonuvagun, and I kept coming back to a unique in-town location: the former Dolby Florists on Humphrey Street.
Dolby Florists was a local success story (almost a hundred years in business)—that had literally gone to seed. The offices had been shuttered for a decade, and the site was derelict, rusting and abandoned. Trees were growing up through the glass roofs of a dozen shattered greenhouses—it was dismal. But every time we visited this ruin, the sun was shining, the river was murmuring and the Mahaiwe was still just two blocks away. Incredible.
The design process was careful and slow. The basic decisions were: low-density single-family homes, small but chic houses, ground-floor primary suites, a great room that was half-kitchen. A grand total of just five net-zero homes would share vegetable gardens, a lap pool, fruit orchards, an electric carport and, of course, the river. The style would be Modern Farmhouse. And as usual, we would paint the houses black. (Some folks like to call it Gay Grey, but the proper Benjamin Moore name, if you must know, is “Iron Mountain.”)
By 2020, the Green Houses (which are black) were finished. The completed project includes five separate houses with five families, sharing the grounds, pool, gardens and enjoying community dinners on Sundays. The houses are all occupied long-term, with two and three generations under one roof. Not to mention up to five dogs.
The project is visible from the River Walk or from East Street. Lots of neighbors and strangers wander up to have a look. If that’s you, feel welcome to say hi and chat. Most likely, you’ll find us in the kitchen, getting ready to eat. Because that’s what we love.
