Old House Love

You might wonder where I've been lately. No, this is not a crater on the surface of the moon. This, friends, is old house love. Living around here, you pretty much have to have it. Not so many new houses around worth shaking a stick at and the handful of modern marvels are rarely on the market and priced out of reach. So we satisfy our irrational homeowning urges with remuddled old houses.

Mine was built about 1870. Doubled about 1900. Used to face the other way. Got stripped in 1949 by well-meaning working folks. They tired of the redo in the 70's and went at it again. A car ran into it in the 80's and left behind a lovely picture window. You could say that renovation opportunity knocked. Actually it crashed right through the living room wall.

Lucky for me, they never had much money, so it was all cosmetic.


I don't have much money either, so now it's all elbow grease. I've spent the past month scraping away sixty years of bad taste (with the help of many). I can no longer say it looks like the function room of an American Legion Hall. All the paneling, dropped ceilings and wall-to-wall are gone. I'm now down to the flesh of the place. Wood. Actual wood. Oh, isn't it going to be nice.