Oh dear reader,
If you’re thinking of buying a house sight unseen, especially one which sat for over a decade, abandoned, and filled with antiques, random stuff, and critters, maybe you should reconsider.

Or maybe go all out and get crazy like we did. Let this post be a cautionary tale!

We had been searching for a house for some time. I needed a change, Seattle was wearing on me, and our house was way too tiny. We went on what felt like a never-ending search. The homes we saw were too basic, too in need of massive repairs, or beautiful and too small or too expensive. The area wasn’t right, or it didn’t feel like home. It was too far from family, or too busy of an area. We were looking for a unicorn, and we knew that meant we’d be searching for a long time. A few years, and dozens of houses later, we found it and when this house came on the market, fully renovated, on land, and affordable, my Spidey sense went off. All I could think was, “what did they cover up? What’s wrong with it??”

I was having flashbacks to all the issues with my Seattle house. Dear reader, I repaired or replaced everything from the foundation to the chimney on that house, inside and out, there isn’t anything that hasn’t been touched. Those repairs were damn expensive, even spread over 20 years.

When we started bidding on the new house, I was already wary of dollar signs and a potential “money trap” situation, so we had everything inspected. When I say ‘everything,’ I mean sending people into crawl spaces and looking behind drywall. When we got the insanely long repair report, I wasn’t surprised.

Oh no, those surprises would come later.

We countered with requests for repairs, tree cutting, and termite treatment. More inspections were done. We found termite damage that had been covered up. The sellers had been creative on what damage would or would not be repaired, so that had to be handled: cue the cha-ching noises.

The leaking pipe? We had to send a contractor in three times to actually seal it correctly. Towards the end of the contract, I was questioning everything and was ready to back out, based on how ridiculous everything was.

Fast forward a few months, when we moved in, we started finding more issues that had been “fixed”.
-That termite treatment? Not done.
-Reframing the front door? Kinda done, in that I mean, the door closed at least.
-The tree trimming? Clearly, we didn’t mean the big, tall trees. Or the dead ones, which were not reported on the form…
-Then came the critters. We heard a mouse in the attic, and when we opened a doorway, when I tell you a sea of raccoon poop fell, my heart sank. The flippers painted the attic access shut so it wouldn’t be accessible during an inspection.

That was my first breaking point. I knew that was not going to be cheap to remove, sanitize, and reinsulate, but when a big box company, we’ll call Blorpin, handed us a $30k bill, I poured myself a pint glass of rosé and went for an angry walk. WHAT THE HELL DID I GET US INTO?

We would eventually find a neighbor who specialized in this, who taught us how to do all the mitigation and repair ourselves. A Tyvek suit, a respirator, and 20 contractor bags later, that massive bill dropped to $3k for sanitation and new insulation.

The last breaking point was during a heavy rainstorm when water started dumping into our basement. The grading was poor, and the gutters weren’t great, but the ground was filled with trash, random antiques, and pumice/concrete chunks. Water had easy entry into the foundation and into my basement.
Luckily, we caught it quickly and worked to mitigate damage. Family helped vacuum up water, brought over dehumidifiers, and a neighbor brought over a massive fan. Through the removal of the flooring, we found asbestos tile, but later learned it wasn’t the super bad kind. The leave it alone kind. We had no mold or lasting water damage, and no lead concerns. More neighbors would come over to help regrade the property, and Nick dug trenches to move more water away. We’d eventually replace the gutters to the biggest possible, with larger downspouts.

Finally, good things started happening. The diseased and dead trees were taken down, either by Mother Nature or our tree guy, Tony Woods (I shit you not). The repairs slowed, and even the door got fixed up quickly and for free – just time. Multiple rainstorms later, the basement has stayed dry. The house has started to give back – more goodies are unearthed with every garden project – ruby rings, trinket trays, more milk glass vases. It’s almost like the house is saying sorry, with gifts. I joke that it’s still better than the Seattle house, and I still love the house. It’ll all work out and we’re finally at a place where we aren’t bleeding out money (I hope!)

As I write this, I am listening to my neighbor’s cows moo happily as they go out to graze, and my insane rooster who apparently only knows how to scream, instead of crow. I am grateful for the peace this change has brought, even if the road to it was paved in chaos and shenanigans. I am grateful for friends and family, who sent wine, hugs, and Home Depot gift cards to help with some of this. I’m grateful for neighbors who helped us figure out so many of the repairs and sent construction equipment, saving us time and money.

Would I do it differently? Definitely some aspects of it. I would have been more diligent with the paperwork and inspection work. I was pulled in too many directions to give it the proper attention. I would have used a different inspector and held the sellers accountable. Overall, I have a great home, with good bones and plenty of land. It’s super close to family and will be perfect, just needs a little more love.

And dear reader, all those dead trees? I have a ton of firewood that’ll keep me warm next winter. Gotta find the positives, right?

To rebuilding the life you want, one house project at a time.
Raina,