Friends, I’m tired.
Of course the pending sale fell through. Too many old house things scared them away. Economic volatility doesn’t help. It’s unlikely that mortgage rates will see any significant change. My head hurts and my enthusiasm is waning. I think my old house is beautiful and charmingly quirky. A 63-page inspection report says otherwise.
Of course an almost 200 year-old house is going to have been painted with lead-based paint 100 years ago. If the soil isn’t contaminated, and there’s no evidence of lead inside the house or the pipes, don’t you think it should be okay? Add this to the list of things I should’ve been prepared for.
Remember when I found out that the floor tiles in my son’s bedroom tested positive for asbestos? I thought I was prepared. It wasn’t until Labor Day weekend that a single pipe, in the basement ceiling, has what looks like asbestos wrapping. For almost 30 years we didn’t see or worry about that one pipe. But it allegedly cost me the sale of the house.
Friends, I am tired. There are leaks in pipes that didn’t leak before I moved out. Or maybe they did and all the crap in the house disguised them? I don’t know. There’s rotten wood in sections of the siding on the house. The gutters aren’t on right. The grill in the kitchen range doesn’t light right away, leading people to think it doesn’t light at all. The new PVC pipes in the basement are glued together (?!?) and the extractor pump probably needs replacing. The pipe that is connected to the extractor pump going out to the waste line isn’t properly pitched. SMH. Add all these things to the cracked window panes, brittle window frames, deteriorating cement basement steps…. You get the idea.
I should keep a positive outlook – St. Joseph is buried upside down facing the house, so everything will work out. Right? I started posting the listing on my Instagram page just because. I’ve requested open houses every weekend for forever, also just because. I called the plumber and the contractor to check on the leaks and the rot reports. I have asbestos remediation estimates in hand. Someone is going to love that place despite all its warts and want to live there. They just have to. But where the hell are they? Shouldn’t they have seen it by now and fallen head over heels?
It’s hard to keep looking forward when something this big keeps you anchored in place.
As I type this, I am having a text argument with my realtor about which problem is most pressing to fix. The asbestos on the pipe that hasn’t moved in 70 years or the active leak inside the basement from the pipe leading to the hose spigot. He’s arguing asbestos. I am arguing active water leak. I win. I will deal with the freaking asbestos when I have another offer in hand. I am absolutely not going to ignore water drip, drip, dripping into the basement. That is a recipe for disaster.
And here I thought the oil tank was the big issue. Silly me.
Friends, I’m tired.
I know things will turn around but at this moment, I am feeling as though the odds are not in my favor.
In the past, I would ratchet up the positivity machine, cranking sunshine, glitter and rainbows until it smothered the icky feelings. Not today. I will honor the icky things then share them with you, because that’s what we do. Tomorrow, the sun will come out, the plumber will render his verdict, and we will move forward. And I might feel optimistic again.
P.S. – tell anybody who is in the market for a house in Cranbury, NJ to come look. Imagine hosting the holidays in the huge front room! A Super Bowl watch party in the basement! The possibilities! Spread the word!
