Real
Estate listings do just what they should, they hook you. The house is bigger, better
a specimen of brick and mortar cared for through the years with love and
attention and of course exquisite taste. We did not have any illusions. We could not see the house from the listing pictures or from the
street. The facts we had were the house was brick, it had a slate roof, it was
sound but in dire need of updating. Straight forward. But what fun is straight
forward when you can get a peek at what they did not show.
The MONSTROUS storm door. (This picture was taken
after four days of clearing) This beast weighed 75 lbs and had a heavy duty
spring on it. As you tried to open the door, using the doll house sized handle,
the door was fighting against you to close. You had to wedge your body between
it and the door frame while still pushing the door off of your now pinned body
as the storm door squishes you into the 4" thick oak door covered in at
least 15 coats of paint and varnish. Getting in was proving to be a three man
job. Salvation lay with the listing agent already inside the house. She had
used a different door to gain entry and opened the oak door. One person
pushing the storm door out and the other pulling the door out you could slip in
before the storm door propelled you inside. Welcome, you can never leave.
One of the amenities
listed was a sun porch located directly off the living room.
Again, four days
of clearing have taken place that you can see this architectural gem and the lightening rod had been removed. The space was interesting. Holes
were drilled thru the walls of the living room out to this space and electrified
by interior use only extension cords stapled around the perimeter the walls.
Leaks in the structure were evident, one errant water droplet and boom! The roof was corrugated plastic and the walls wood planks attached to the frame and lots and lots of silicon caulk. Silicon caulk would soon become my sworn enemy. A reason behind all the shrubbery perhaps?
Kitchens and bathrooms are house hunter
porn. I have always
wanted a powder room. I like a place for everything and everything in its
place. Old movies use them as beautiful flights of decorating whimsy. A proper
and pretty a place where all my sophisticated well dressed friends would excuse
themselves from witty cocktail party repartee to powder their noses.
Ah, such civility.
The people powdering their noses in this
little spot. I don't know that I want them in my house.
A very psychedelic green, white and silver papered powder room. The sconce, which you turned on from out in the hall, again requiring three people to figure out how to turn the light on, had been painted white and the candle portion wrapped in the same paper. The sink and toilet were intended for use by nursery school students and the sink fixtures had a lovely patina.
But wait there is more, a mystery door. Where or where could it
go? Straight into...
Queue Bob Barker...
Your band new state of the art
kitchen!!! A la 1958.
No peninsula, but an entire suite of Waste King Universal 800 Imperial appliances and a really, really strong natural gas smell. We were assured the gas smell was “perfectly normal" for appliances of this "vintage". We had been told that at this point in the tour, when most of the visitors had excused themselves. Perhaps it was the high quantities of gas we were inhaling, "this could be great" we thought. We pressed on.
Great hubris or great vision we shall see.
