This is Grandad's and Grandmother's house; I spent a fair amount of time growing up in it. Grandad commissioned it when his store started doing well in the 1920s and lived in it the rest of his life. It's now a B&B The problem is not that it's been gutted and remodeled and, I think, merged with the house next door (the Tudor one). The problem is the lawn and the trees.
"What lawn?", you say. "What trees?" Well, when I was there, the lawn was the kind of thing that supposedly you only get on very old English estates, like a very thick carpet, soft as a feather bed. I remember Grandad walking carefully around the lawn, looking for weeds. When he found one, he would take out his pocket knife (a little bitty thing on his keychain) and carefully cut it out.
There were three or four large trees in front, right next to the road. I'm not a Plant Person; I don't remember what kind of trees they were. If they were elms, that might explain why they're no longer there. But it's a real shame; the shade was wonderful during the summer. One thing about the Great Plains; there's always a breeze. (If you can walk against it without too much trouble, it's a "breeze" :-) Remember that originally, this was dead flat shortgrass prairie.
