So I have moved . . .

Well, not quite yet. I’m still packing, cleaning and moving things around. But I’m almost there.

When we first started looking at houses in the spring it was a very depressing search. There were several houses that were ideal but we had no hope of being able to afford them. Many were just damn ugly and my most repeated question was “Can we set fire to it?” It was very discouraging. Or maybe I was very discouraging. Either way, nothing we looked at was affordable or okay enough-looking for us to want to live in it.

The house we finally stumbled upon at first seemed too good to be true. It sits along a quiet residential street three blocks from Monika’s school. There’s no alternate side of the street parking. Ever. The price of the house was a wee bit high, but in comparison to other houses in the area it was considerably low.

We looked at it. We all liked it. It needs cosmetic improvements, but we all liked it. We made an offer and the seller agreed to come down in price. By a lot. So now we own it.

The house was built in 1930, and though a wee bit small–we’re happy with most of the house. It has a large dining room (huge!) and a strangely laid out kitchen, but it keeps the rain out!

Strangely I never really thought to take pictures of the outside/front of the house.

The enclosed and completely covered porch. With carpeting, for some odd reason.

The dungeon. Err, I mean. The living room. Whoever thought brown paneling was a great idea needs to be turned over to Al-Qaeda.

Dining Room. Don't worry. We do plan to get rid of the hideous light fixture. Some day.

The kitchen. For some odd reason the kitchen sink is behind me in this picture. And very little counter space at the sink, which makes washing dishes a little tricky. There is an ancient circa 1978 dishwasher there, but I have to admit I'm afraid to turn it on.

Steps to basement.

I call this the suicide closet. It sits above the stairs to the basement. I have to go down about four steps to open the doors to this closet with my fingers. And that's about all I can do. Chris' mom calls it the Tarzan closet. Apparently there was a "trap door" of sorts that rested alongside the wall, which you pulled down and walked across to get to the closet (and presumably lived).

The yard. With the heat of this past summer, the grass is really . . . no longer grass. But I'm sure I'll have grass eventually. And a hammock, goddammit. With my flowering dogwood.

That’s about it. I hadn’t figured out all the little features on my digital camera, so the remaining shots of the interior of the house are pretty much all in silhouette.

When I get a chance I’ll post a pic of Monika’s Pepto Bismol Room (ooooh, now I know what it’s like to be inside a stomach or something).We tore out some cabinets that had been built into the wall and as a result one wall is pockmarked with holes, orange, white and some missing crown moulding. The rest is still pink.

We do have a bathroom despite lack of photos. It’s baby blue and it’s got to be changed. Along with the goddamn “marble effect” scallop-shaped sink, which is also blue. I hate scallop-shaped sinks. Hate ’em! And the blue toilet. That’s got to go, too. Someday. Ain’t nothing like a blue toilet to make you question the color of your . . . well. Let’s not go there.

We also have prodigious amounts of beige wall-to-wall carpeting in the common areas. BEIGE. Who the hell picked beige? Someone with a sick, twisted sense of humor, that’s who! Beige carpet in the dining room is so idiotic–Chris’ parents are actually afraid to eat in the dining room and prefer to eat off a small (I’m NOT exaggerating) 12″ x 12″ “table”.

And because they’re afraid to get the carpet dirty they’ve placed small little carpets on top of the carpet.

I’ll just leave it at that–it gets me into quite a rage thinking about the carpets upon the carpet. As if we are unworthy to walk upon carpeting. I get the point, I do. But this is ridiculous.

The yard needs work. There’s an azalea bush I’d like to get rid of. I planted some Iris bulbs (in honor of Monika’s former nanny and because I like them), so we’ll see if they come up in the spring. I’m thinking, if the light we get is the right kind of light, of putting in some lavendar or some peonies. I love peonies.

The front yard–there’s a little birdbath thing in the front which I’m anxious to get rid of.  It appears to be bolted to the ground somehow, because I couldn’t tip it over. We also have little stone lions flanking the steps to the house which Chris wants to get rid of but which I don’t mind. But if they do go I doubt I’d miss them very much.  I want to install this doorbell.

The hallway upstairs is also dungeon-like with brown paneling and the dreaded and reviled beige carpeting. And there’s a super-ugly wall sconce there. I’ve looked in Home Depot and Lowe’s for a replacement that doesn’t look like it belongs in

A Hotel

A Bathroom

A Doctor’s/Dentist’s Office

Penitentiary

Office

Which means: I just do not like wall sconces. I may have to go down to The Bowery and the many light fixture stores down there to see if I can find something Chris and I both like (a very hard task, indeed–he’s all about straight, clean lines ((which have their place on occasion)) and general boringness) that’s also reasonably priced.

I have mixed feelings about the enclosed porch, which wasn’t always enclosed. It is nice to sit there in the mornings, though, drinking my coffee and reading or trolling the internet. It can stay the way it is.

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About Em-O-Lee

What's to know, really? I am here. People like me, love me and hate me. And that's all there is to it. If you found me, it's because you kno
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