I sort of knew it would be... interesting. Here are some photos of the house in progress.
(Circa October 1, 2010) In the beginning...
The roof shingles drip with age and whatever grit they once had fills the gutters enough that small cedar trees had taken root.
The green of the livingroom is a sage that had been trodden in the mud; the smell of tobacco and other noxious substances permeates everything. The ceiling fan projects an uncomfortable distance down into the room, a clear threat to some of my taller friends. There are a few holes in the walls.
As you can see by the counter and the walls, they had tried to renovate, but didn't much complete things. The floor is torn. Green linoleum is the tub surround. The tub was never really hooked up, and I want something easier to care for. At some point, a bedroom was sacrificed to make a laundry. And never finished.
We entered the bathroom from the hallway, just off the kitchen. Now back to the hallway and look down to the other rooms.
A peek into the red room shows the blue-painted bunkbed: skookum in construction (would stand a big earthquake) but low on the aesthetics scale. (Yes, the right wall is that sad green and the left wall is yellow.)
Evidently, this was Kyle's room in deep red and navy blue; the navy-blue built-in bunkbed was bolted in place from -outside- the room.
And the blue room (with wallpaper trim... there's a word for that kind of detailing) was probably the master bedroom, with the greatest miasma of tobacco. This room, too, has a large fan; it was off-balanced and gouged interesting patterns on the ceiling. See the speaker wire? Everywhere!
The far corner of the basement had two bedrooms. Notice ancient carpet, suspicious freezer, and unusual decor... The gas furnace gives no indication of actual age, but the hot water tank seems relatively recent. More speaker wire and other unidentifiable wire that makes electricians nervous. Right about where the camera is, the furnace ducting kind of drapes down into adult headspace.
Yet... The house has solid bones. The bathroom can be changed to a standard layout (possibly the original one), and the third bedroom returned. Three bedrooms upstairs gives us one bedroom and two studios (or one studio and one computer room). The kitchen is small but workable. The livingroom is bigger than we have in the apartment, and will let us welcome company again. The downstairs is full height (mostly) and has potential for a suite (I think) and a small dance/craft studio (and meeting room), -with- a sewing/craft/whatever room. We can put the laundry downstairs, too; having our own laundry in our home will be so... upscale!
The plan: correct the plumbing (oops: have to re-plumb the whole thing!); correct the electrical (oops: panels incorrectly installed, unsafe wiring everywhere; have to upgrade panel and trace and correct all wiring!); install better lighting (and remove old fans); re-shingle the roof; correct the insulation; adjust bathroom floorplan to better function; endeavour to install a downstairs efficiency apartment and a dance studio. And make some decisions about the deck, the garden, the yard, the fencing, and the "shed".
Some things the pros have to do, and other things... well... me. And Nik. And whatever friends like the idea of pitching in; I've always enjoyed working on other people's projects and tend to think others would get a charge out of participating in our making a house into a home. I wonder how true that is...
(Circa October 9, 2010) The first weekend...
It turns out that Nik has never painted -walls- before, and that he gets a joyous rush out of demolition. Who knew? I seem to get into the mudding, but can't stop soon enough when sanding. So, just how steep -is- this learning curve?
(Circa October 15) The second weekend... (to come! Many, many photos to sift through!)