August 4, 2014

In Which All (Or Possibly Some) Is Revealed

Okay, close your eyes and dream of my kitchen. Let your (imaginary) gaze wander over the black linoleum, the ludicrously deep cupboards, the sink - not in front of the window, who'd want that? - and the inexplicably high (island? island-ish?) counter.

Got it? Or, like normal people, do you not use up valuable memory space on some random internet stranger's long-ago mentioned kitchen and need a reminder?

Thought so. You know, I'm really starting to question our relationship.*

And since we're lolling around in the past anyway, perhaps I'll let you eavesdrop on the first conversation Seth and I ever had about this house, here in the middle of this ugly kitchen:

Seth: "Isn't it--"

Sandi: "We're not buying it."

In fact - if you can believe it - the kitchen wasn't the worst thing going for the house. This was:

But by the time we (inevitably - I can't resist his handsome face) moved in, the bathroom looked like this:

 And as for the kitchen, well...


So you'll understand me when I say that when the drip-drop of water leaking through our roof, through our cupboards (among many - MANY - other places) and onto our counter, turned out to be not quite as minor as we first thought, and resulted in this:

And, eventually, this:

You'll understand my excitement over the prospect of a new kitchen.

But, wait! There's more!

The side porch started to crumble. We found knob and tube wiring, like a cancer, entwined in every room and infecting every switch, plug, and outlet. The back room turned out to be sitting on dirt instead of, you know, a foundation. And - did I mention? - the roof leaked. 

I'm exhausted just typing it out. Stay tuned, this soap opera ain't nearly done.

*This is a lie. I questioned it long, looong ago, and have come to the inescapable conclusion that you're my people, you adorable weirdos.