This Old House

When Peter and I decided to embark on the journey of buying a home we discussed our criteria. How many bedrooms, bathrooms and so on. He didn't have a lot of specifications otherwise except that it be structurally sound and not in need of lots of fixing up and or extra money put into it immediately. You know, guy stuff. I on the other hand wanted a character home. Hardwood floors, stained glass, charm. Having lived in a mobile home as a child (which I HATED!) and living in apartments and other rental properties as a teen/adult I felt it was only fair that I should have my dream home.

After looking at many different houses during our search my husband would ask me “What did you think of that one?” Since it met his skimpy requirements – won't fall down, won't need extra $$$. I would reply “It was fine but I didn't LOVE it.” He was perplexed by my need to love our potential home rather than just be satisfied it met our needs and we could afford it. I'm sure he thought I'd never fall in love.

Then one spring day we walked through the door of our home. I knew it as soon as we stepped in the door and the beautiful hardwood floors stretched out before me. “This is it! It's perfect!” Once the long stressful process of buying our first home was completed, it was ours to enjoy. But there was a flaw in my plan. Something I wasn't prepared for. After two long months of excitement, looking forward to moving into my perfect home I discovered... it wasn't perfect.

The first thing that happened when I unlocked the back door to step into my kitchen – the doorknob fell off. Then I noticed that although the former owner was supposed to clean it... well, it was less than clean. Nothing a little soap and elbow grease can't fix. So I intend to fill the gorgeous old ceramic sink with soap and water with which to clean my dirty new home only to discover – no plug! We used a rag that day. Since it is an antique it is impossible to just buy a plug that will work so eventually I improvised with a plastic hair trap (to catch the food bits) and a flat rubber plug on top.

During the first week (at least) in our house I constantly felt ill. I had reached the point in our “love affair” when I had doubts about the relationship. I wasn't sure I still felt as strongly about my home anymore. Had we made a mistake? I was noticing every flaw. Was that crack in the plaster always there? Wow, these floors sure need to be redone and were they always this creaky? Why do all the doorknobs keep falling off!?

Eventually, I began to appreciate my home again with almost as much affection as when I'd first seen it. Having a friend who visited me recently tell me a house like mine would cost $500,000 (Canadian) in the city she lives in (Toronto) also made me feel the warm fuzzies again. Although the amount we paid was a lot to us, it was still affordable.

So when I'm cringing as I'm carrying my sleeping infant daughter across the very loud, creaky floors I try to remind myself why I love my old house.