What makes a good permaculture site in suburbia?

This is the house we moved into. A run down, unrenovated fibro cottage, built in the late 1950’s (and lived in by the same family ever since). A second tiny kids’ bedroom was added in the 1960’s and the two tiny bedrooms were shared by four kids growing up. Dad had died a long time ago and Mum was moving into aged care.

Regional towns are much more affordable than the major cities, but even so I am very aware we are privileged to be able to afford to buy a house at all (even with a large mortgage – first in my life). We were even luckier to find such a perfect basis for a retrosuburbia development.

The good stuff:

• Out of projected sea level rise at least in our lifetime.
• Out of flood zone, at least historical floods.
• Walking distance to our grandkids’ home.
• No tall buildings or neighbour’s trees to the north.
• A wide verge with lots of potential for verge gardening.
• A multicultural, resourceful, tolerant, skill-rich neighbourhood.
• We didn’t know it then, but as it turned out, lovely immediate neighbours.
• A quiet street (so quiet that learner drivers practice their three-point turns out front of the house).
• A huge abundance of resources within walking and biking distance – coffee grounds, food scraps, wood chips, wooden pallets, seaweed.
• The south side laneway, giving access down the side and again lots of potential for gardening public land.
• A previous owner with not much interest in a tidy garden, so no persistant herbicides or pesticides.
• A kitchen that was falling apart chipboard with no dishwasher or energy sucking appliances.
• A fireplace and chimney.
• A tiny, rentable granny flat in the back yard.

The not-so-good stuff

• The garage built on the north side, limiting options for passive solar heat and light.
• Out of flood zone, but flat with slow drainage in heavy rain.
• Southerly winds straight down the road.
• The granny flat is on the north side of the back yard, casts shade and occupies too much of the limited, valuable growing space.
• The area is zoned for highrise, which could threaten our sun one day.
• A low socioeconomic area has crime and vandalism.
• Huge, ornamental trees and vines and invasive weeds (including Madiera vine) along the front and down the lane.
• A huge tuckeroo tree shading the back yard.
• An uninsulated roof with lead nails.
• Corrugated asbestos fence.
• All the plumbing – taps, toilet cistern, shower – leak.
• All the electricity is energy guzzling – lights, hot water, fans, stove.
• Ghastly 1980s carpet, over 1970’s vinyl tiles, over 1960’s lino (but under it all, as it turned out, lovely original floorboards waiting to be sanded and polished).
• Ghastly yellow painted walls.
• A renovated bathroom, limiting opportunity for good water efficient redevelopment.
• Sandy soil with low mineral levels and low water retention.

If I use a classic permaculture measure – Yeoman’s Scale of Permanence – the important, immovable, critcal bits were mostly all there, – things like sea and flood levels, slope and aspect, landscape (both natural and manmade), location. The lower level, modifiable bits – trees, plumbing, structures, fittings, soil, were mostly all open for modification, without wasting too much that was already there.

So we took a deep breath and a mortgage, and started the adventure.