Rotting wood, shaky windows, rusty pipes, weathered siding, random wires, dying trees, chipping paint..and two stories to contain it all. To say I am thankful that this did not become our house is an understatement. It was, however, the object of first infatuation for my husband-to-be during the home search. I use the word "search" in the sense that there was a choice between less than half a dozen properties labeled with some type of "potential".
In the exact words of my now husband describing the available possibilities of a home that was listed under our designated price range, "they all sucked."
As a result, his enthusiasm for this yellow house grew. It was obvious this property was surrounded by positive qualities at which any untrained eye could immediately recognize...or something like that. As the fascination with this property grew, it was clearer to me that taking on this project would be one of enormous proportions. Somehow, the house we did end up purchasing seemed so much more manageable. "There is only one floor to deal with," I was quick to point out.
The yellow house was a foreclosure and eventually went to auction in which a bank purchased and resold the property. From that point on, the property rose out of our desired price range and was removed from consideration.
Moving onto other possibilities, a conveniently located home came into the picture. I say conveniently because it was only blocks from where my then fiance worked. A trip over his lunch hour helped solidify its contention.
With his curiosities stirred, an actual scheduled visit with the listed realtor and invitation to our good friend to tag along, made it official. We ventured inside to check it all out together.
|(left) Front exterior of the house. |
(right) Our friend seems more interested in the listing information than the the details of the place.
The floors were worn, the kitchen was bare save the very old style cabinetry and cast iron sink and there was no running water as far as we could tell throughout the main level. Some squeaks from underneath a couple stacks of wooden pallets in the basement revealed just the beginning of what would become one of many unwanted furry winged guests.
|"Are you handy?" said the realtor.|
Those famous words from the realtor have since been repeated in many forms and instances and now it's safe to say that it's true.