It's normal here in Switzerland to self-build kit houses. Only millionaires and lunatics build a 100% 'individual' design, and even then the lunatics usually think twice. The millionaires have enough money to just shrug and pay to send some chaps in to knock a few holes into the walls when they realise that their architect (the chap with a bow-tie, remember) forgot to put any doors into his latest blue riband award winning design.
Nah, kit houses are where it's all at, at least in the German speaking world, as they're already fully debugged. No design surprises.
The available kit houses here are incredibly configurable so no need to take a hacksaw to 'em. The messing about's done on CAD/CAM, and the results pop out of the factory gates like a big meccano set. Bolt holes line up, windows fit perfectly into the window gaps, doors open the right way, the roof's the bit at the top and the cellar's the bit at the bottom, etc etc, no matter what option box yer tick. You want that design, but its mirror image would be better? Click, and Bob's yer uncle. No likee that wallee? Click. More windows, less wall? Click click, slide and click.
Bloody marvellous, really.
However, it's the endless possibilities that sap time and attention. I've always been a fan of a few standardised options, whether I'm in a restaurant, buying a car, or (of late) choosing a kit house. It's a buggahration scratching my head as I scan through page after page of options menu, looking at details half of which I've never heard of. In a foreign language. The funny thing is that when there's an area of land that needs a house shoving on it, then you and the Frau get all particular about this or that detail, and refuse to compromise on just about anything. "Hmm, how many millimetres to the left should we move that door, darling?" But the thing is that if the bloody house had already been built, and was generally what we'd wanted, then we'd have accepted those compromises and a lot bloody more without a thought.