The Seattle Times reports on a new type of housing that "has sprouted like mushrooms" in Snohomish County, Wa., which is north of Seattle.

The single-family homes are dubbed "air condos" and "LDMRs" (for low-density multiple residential zoning) because they are tightly packed like condos. All common space within this flavor of development is owned by a homeowner's association, though the dwellings do not share walls.

While the homes are affordable and popular, some city officials and neighbors aren't too pleased with the density, which is allowed by county policies but typically is prohibited by local cities, according to the article.

Edmonds, Wa., Mayor Gary Haakenson said in the article, "It's awful what's happening. County policies are allowing for twice the unit growth and the density growth that the cities would allow."

Meanwhile, a resident who lives in a development that features 36 homes in a three-acre development told the newspaper, "Being able to get into a new house for what we can afford was really great. I think the development's really cute. It has that feel of a community."

Developers in other rural-fringe communities, too, have looked to similarly maximize the number of units per acre while keeping homes affordable.

When I was in graduate school, my closest friend bought a new house in Orange County. During construction, an 8 year old girl was raped in the house. When my friend moved in, her husband became bipolar and had a "last stand" with the Sheriff's department where he lined up her shoes and the mustard and mayonnaise jars as his weapons of choice. He then put a lien on the house and took the proceeds to live in the bush outside the Honolulu airport with his personal body guard.

While I never met her husband, strange events always happened at her house. We would go out to dinner and pieces of furniture would be moved when we came back. Lights flickered for no apparent reason. There was a window overlooking a canyon that would vibrate until you told it to stop. My friend seemed unconcerned. It seemed pretty strange to me.

One night we went out to a local Mexican restaurant for dinner. When we came back, some of the tables were moved and the lights were flickering again. A strange rustling noise was coming from the garage. It sounded as if there was something very big in there. My friend went to the garage to see what was going on--I was hanging on to her German Shepherd--a quiet sweet dog who was going ballistic at the moment. I wanted to make sure the dog was between me and whatever was in the garage. When we opened the door, the dog broke away from me and went to attack what was in the garage. The noise stopped mysteriously. The dog sat down and acted as if nothing had happened.

We watched the movie "The Ghost of Flight 409." As I was getting ready to leave, we were standing at the base of the stairs. For over 5 minutes, the bannister vibrated for no apparent reason. Everything else in the house--the chandeliers, the furniture--was still. We both acknowledged what we saw. It gave me the creeps--that was the last time I visited.

My friend finally cleared up the title issues her husband had caused. She sold the house to a deputy sheriff. The first escrow officer on the file died from a heart attack. The second escrow officer had a heart attack as well. The deputy sheriff's arm became mysteriously paralyzed. He was forced to go out on medical leave. The paralysis disappeared when he cancelled the transaction.

My friend finally sold her house--the buyer was a psychiatrist. By the way, she also ended up becoming a real estate agent and marrying a psychic.

Posted by Bernice Ross

A Sac of Rooms Three Times a Day stuffs the four rooms of an 800-square-foot house into a building envelope of a 500-square-foot bungalow in an art installation at a Seattle architectural office.

In an exploration between the relationship of occupied space to the occupants, artist and architect Alex Schweder has created a bungalow-sized transparent vinyl envelope measuring 21'x28'x9' that contains four smaller "rooms" that contain doors, windows and interior walls. The smaller sacs regularly inflate and deflate inside the larger envelope in choreographed sequence several times a day at Suyama Space. The firm, Suyama Peterson Deguchi, is an architectural design company that recognizes the relationship between architecture, art and design by sponsoring exhibits in the space adjacent to their offices.

--Marlow Harris, 360Digest.com