Is there a word for the moment you drive a new car off the lot, and instantly its value drops?
Even after you drive the car off the lot though, it's still exciting to have a new car. There's still that new car smell that lingers for a bit.
But eventually, it goes from being the car! of your dreams! to-- the car. that you have.
My house is sort of like that car, even though my house, of course, is not new. Even before I drove it off the lot, I knew there were issues. I thought I'd kicked the house's tires pretty thoroughly, and had a clear picture of all the potential bumps in the road. But over the last week of driving this house around, I've realized--huh. I don't think I expected that bump on this road.
1. America's Narrowest HallwaysI knew Frankenhouse's hallways were narrow. Really narrow! There are two hallways, and like most of the house, these hallways pre-date things like city/county housing departments, or legal construction permits, or Napoleon. I even invented a game to emphasize the narrowness of my hallways. The game is called "How Wide Is Your Hallway?" Here's how you play:
- Stand in either hallway.
- Try to stick your arms out to either side.
- You can't!
- You say: How wide is your hallway?!
- I say: Nooooooooot VERY!
Oh, man. Minutes of fun, every time.
So, I knew the hallways were narrow. I didn't know they were this narrow.
|that's a hallway.|
|22 inches wide.|
The 22 inches came up because there was this idea that I'd get a dog gate, and I'd put it here to keep my dog from having any accidents in the hallway. Turns out, there is no dog gate narrow enough for the hallways of the Frankenstein House.
2. Bathroom, with Eye Holes
This, I actually didn't know about until recently. All the times I walked through the house before the close of escrow, all the time I spent looking at everything before I moved in-- somehow, I missed until just about a week ago that there are hungry, hungry holes in the wall under the sink in the guest bathroom.
Who DOES this? Who tears up a wall, re-does plumbing, looks at these holes where the plumbing used to be connected, and goes-- eh, good enough, I'm stopping here.
This will either be an amazing do it yourself project, or will go on a list of tasks for a handyperson. The latter is more likely.
3. Trompe l'oeil Tiles
I thought I had a fireplace that, while not usable, at least looked nice. Turns out, I have a trick-of-the-eye fireplace, especially the tiles in front. I thought they were lovely white tiles! Then, the paint on them started to rip off, and I saw-- oh. I do not have white tiles. I have concrete, with a square pattern, which has been painted white.
I found this out after painting the living room. I had plastic tarps taped down on the ground, and one of the tarps was taped here to the fireplace. After I painted, I carelessly pulled up the tarp, and whoops! The paint came off the "tile." Did not see that coming.
Luckily, none of these things is a huge deal by itself. It's just more stuff to do before I feel like I'm ready to drive this house off the lot. It also makes me wonder what else about the house I don't see coming. Then again, I guess if I knew, then I wouldn't not see it coming.
Oooooooooh, sometimes. Sometimes, I startle myself with my own wisdom. "I wouldn't not see it coming." Wiser words were never spoken.
Well, that's not true. Wiser words were spoken many times, including the time Billy Ocean said, "Get out of my dreams. Get in to my car." And you know what? He was right. Get out of my dreams, Frankenhouse! Get into my car! Stop presenting me with new things to fix, or I'll never get to drive you off the lot.