Our 1925 cottage may not be "great architecture" but it certainly has an adorable front porch. Here it is a few years ago, at Halloween. (Details on painting the hellmouth can be found here.)
We've known this porch needed love, for some time now.
The whole thing is catty-whompus: crooked in every direction imaginable.
The problem wasn't just that the structure was a bit off-kilter. It turns out that the porch suffered from both of the enemies of architecture: water, and stupid choices. The problems were a multiplication of both those factors.
Luckily, Robb is both fearless and skilled in house-building. The whole project makes me a bit queazy, but he's undaunted.
I'm sure our neighbors are suitably horrified.