|Front of the new house|
Naturally, the realtor didn't bother to show up, this after calling, texting, and emailing me to be sure to meet her at the house at noon SHARP. We waited around for 45 minutes until she called and said her daughter was bringing the papers over. I realize closing on a mobile home that you paid cash for isn't the same as buying a regular house with a mortgage and all that, but at least show some professionalism. Oh well.
Needless to say, when I got my keys and went inside, I was PISSED. First there was the situation with the furniture and beds. I didn't actually need their furniture since I have my own, but I was planning to give it to my sons, who both need furniture. I certainly didn't want the beds and I know the only reason they left them, along with all the other crap in the shed and workshop, was because they were too lazy to haul them off to the dump. Not surprising, considering the house looked like it hadn't seen the business end of a broom, mop, or cleaning rag in years. In fact, I would bet the word CLEAN wasn't even in their vocabulary.
And that wasn't the worst part. The house REEKED of dog. I mean, like a wet kennel. Why I didn't notice any of this on the two previous occasions I visited the house I can only attribute to the amount of furniture they had in there and the air filtration system. But after sitting vacant for two weeks in the heat, that house was RIPE. I nearly gagged when I walked in.
Now, in case you're thinking I'm being picky, let me clue you in. I have owned six houses, all of them fixer-uppers. In fact, of the six, only two were actually habitable when I bought them. One had been a HUD rental for years, and two others had been vacant for one and two years, respectively. It took weeks of work to get them in some form of livable shape, so buying something move-in ready is as foreign to me as eating at a five-star restaurant.
That being said, I was willing to pay more than I had originally budgeted for this place because it looked move-in ready. The floors in the livingroom, kitchen, and diningroom had been replaced with hardwood. The subfloors had all been upgraded. The electrical (a huge issue in older mobile homes) had been upgraded. The old awning windows had all been replaced with energy-efficient, hurricane-proof sliding windows and the outside walls insulated and drywalled, along with new vinyl siding around the house. The carport had been closed in, insulated, and air conditioned for livable space. I figured all I'd have to do to move in was tear out the carpeting in the bedrooms and paint the rooms. Anything else could wait till I got the time and money.
I was wrong. Let's start with the least offensive room--the livingroom. Looks okay, right?
|Living room. The 80s called and want their vertical blinds and track lighting back.|
|That silver light hanging there is part of a full room length track light.|
I HATE vertical blinds. Granted, after owning cats for years, I pretty much hate all window treatments, but vertical blinds are the worst. Despite there being two 40-inch wide windows on the wall and a sliding glass door, the vertical blinds stretch the ENTIRE length of both walls in an 18 x 15 room. And notice they only go halfway down on the sliding glass door. Classy.
The track lighting also runs the length of the room and is not only screwed in, but caulked as well. Do you know how much fun it is to repair ceilings in mobile homes? The former owners were very proud when they informed me they were leaving the track lighting for me. Gee, thanks. Even when it was popular, I hated track lighting. What you can't see are the thousands of nails, screws, and hooks in the walls and ceiling. It took me hours to get them all out and I still keep finding ones I missed. I'm not even going to mention the shit-brown accent wall.
|kitchen wall in the livingroom|
|Kitchen, south wall|
|Kitchen, north wall|
This is the pantry. It's eight feet long and three feet deep and has a hodge podge of hooks, bars, and shelving covered with greasy contact paper and vinyl flooring. It makes my stomach turn to think of storing my food in there. This will all be cleared out, drywalled, and become the new home of the fridge and a smaller, cleaner pantry. But first I have to get the electrical box moved. My middle son, who, despite growing up in a rotating construction zone, doesn't know diddly about how a house is put together, even recognized that putting an electrical box one inch above the floor in a kitchen cannot possibly be a good idea, much less to code. He's right.
|Pantry. Can you believe people actually stored their food in here?|
|Notice the location of the electrical box. Yeah. Electrician is coming out tomorrow to get that moved.|
|Not sure what the hell this is supposed to be. Leprechan closet? It only goes halfway up the wall (the top half opens into the hall as a linen closet--see below)|
|Linen closet over top of the short pantry.|
On the hallway side of that short pantry we have a linen closet. Yeah, this is all being reconfigured.
Moving on, I am now the proud owner of what is without a doubt the UGLIEST bathroom I have ever seen in person. It could win one of those ugly bathroom contests they used to have on HGTV when they actually showed something besides real estate.
|Ugly bathroom. That disaster on the wall is the former owner's attempt at faux finishing. FAIL!|
|If you can believe it, it's even uglier in person. Full gut job.|
|In case you're wondering, that IS floor tile on the wall.|
|All I can say is UGH!|
All I can say about the spare bedroom is I'm moving the closet over behind the door and cutting it down to half the size. It's a spare bedroom--how much closet does it need? Oh, and you can't see it, but there's a built-in dresser that is history, as is the filthy carpeting.
|Guest bedroom with the crappy bed I now have to figure out how to haul to the dump|
|At least it has a nice window|
|This closet will be moved and that space given to the master bedroom|
And last but not least, the master bedroom, which will become two feet wider when I remove the closets on the shared wall.
|Master bedroom. Luckily, my new neighbor knew someone who wanted the king size bed. One less thing to haul to the dump.|
|Closet that will go away. Notice the file cabinet and the dark stuff on the shelf?|
The former owners left me a file cabinet and a pile of old sheets that they said were there when they bought the place four years ago. Really? I don't even know what to say about someone who leaves another person's dirty sheets in their closet for four years. Both the file cabinet (complete with the former, former owner's papers) and the sheets went to the curb that day.
|Home office closet that will become a closet again.|
|The black hole of death in the wall|
|DIY home office that will become the master bedroom closet|
Another built-in dresser that will become history, though I'm saving the drawers from this one and the one in the guest bedroom because they're all wood. I'm going to make a bookcase out of them. Stay tuned for that one.
|Because everyone wants a sink in their bedroom|
|Tiled fiberglass shower phone booth|
We've removed all the old carpeting, padding, and billions of staples. Tore down that wall between the two bedrooms (waiting for a drywall delivery to rebuild it). Tore out the black hole box and home office closet. Demolished the two built-in dressers. Took out the pantry, leprechaun closet and linen closet. Removed all the vertical blinds and track lighting and started demo on the rest of the kitchen. Tomorrow the drywall and master bedroom flooring is being delivered and the electrician is coming to tell me how much of a heart attack I'm going to have when he gives me the bill to move that box. If I survive, I'll post the next progress report.