I always wanted a big old fixer-upper house. (actually what I really want is a big old beautiful already fixed house, but that’s laughably far out of my price range)
I live in the suburbs. I do not like modern subdivisions. (nothing personal - I’m sure they’re fine for everyone else etc.)
This winter I found a house listed in my area. It’s on a dead-end street (I hate the term cul de sac - makes me think of dog testicles) on a nice lot. Three quarters of an acre terminating in woods at the back, neighbors aren’t too close on either side. It has a two car garage and and big wrap-around porch. It has four bedrooms and six fireplaces. The house was built around 1810.
It is a wreck.
It was priced attractively.
After much hassle and rigamarole, we bought it.
Now comes the smacking of foreheads and the tearing of hair.
Sweet baby Deity on a Triscut, what have I got myself into?!
The windows are original wavy (leaky) glass. In original leaky frames. There is no insulation. (we were told the attic was insulated, but only 1/4 of it actually is - more on that later) The box gutters are rotting. The roof is 20yrs old (but in decent shape with the exception of the hole in the porch roof). It needs extensive replastering. It has one nasty working bathroom with a shower stall, exposed sub-flooring, and a window that’s disintigrating. I’ve got small children that must bathe in a clawfoot jerry-rigged in the basement. The fireplaces need overhauled. There’s a deck on the back, but it’s falling off. The whole place needs a good scrap and repaint. Some of the clapboards need replacing. The wiring is. . . interesting.
On the other hand, it’s got high ceilings, lots of windows, great hardwood floors, a den downstairs, a nice big kitchen, and a rather open floor plan for its age. Much of the original woodwork remains. It’s got a brand spanking new high efficiency boiler. The rooms are generously sized, it’s got a dry (Ha! More on that later) basement, and more character than you could shake a stick at. (don’t shake too hard, you’ll dislodge paint chips)
And today it’s got a pond of raw sewage in the basement.
And while I was down there picking up chunks of human excrement from the floor I learned the real reason the deck is falling off the back of the house. We thought it was only because rather than bolting it to the header of the house, they nailed it with 10 penny nails to the siding. We figured we would jack it up and bolt it properly. Yesterday I learned the header that we planned to bolt it to is rotted to the point of see-through in spots.
le sigh
And when I’ve mentioned this to people, they say, “Didn’t your inspector find these things?”
Well, you see, we waived the home inspection. Go ahead and call us fools. We knew that the foundation was sound, and we knew about all the other problems the place had. We knew a house in this condition of this age is going to have issues. An inspector wouldn’t have predicted the sewage back-up, and it passed the township’s required sewage testing. There was nothing an inspector was going to say that was going to dissuade us from buying the place, other than “massive termite damage.” (yes, we did have a pest inspection - it passed just fine) Maybe a kind inspector would have beat us on the head with a rubber mallet. I sort of wish he had at the moment.
I am fine with all the problems as long as they’re problems I or my husband can tackle. We can rewire (oh, the joys of having electrical savy men in my family), we can do basic plumbing. We can roof and hang gutters. We can paint. We can drywall. We can replace windows. In fact, we’ve done almost all of these things on our last house. But when we get into call a contractor to jack the house up territory, particularly when we’ve yet to sell our last house and money is getting tight. . . oy. I like a challenge, but I’m all challenged out right now. And the rat bastard previous owners never mentioned the rot in the header. And I have reason to believe they knew about it. (found a highlighted section about fixing rotted joists in a home improvement book they left behind) And they flat out lied about the insulation.
So I’m feeling a little overwhelmed today. I’m glad I’m at work and my husband is at home with the RotoRooter guy. I’m grateful for wine, as it helps me with my whine. (until I wake up at 3:00 a.m. from nightmares about wading through sewage and realise that the wine buzz has worn off) Looking at old house restoration blogs has helped me feel a little less stupid, a little more like this can be done. At least I know others share my self-destructive love of old houses.
Somebody please tell me I’m not totally crazy.
