Someone just bought the house next door. I know this because the big ugly bushes obstructing the porch are gone, and there is a rocker and several pots of mums and a new porch light. This is a human female's equivalent to marking her territory. So Anna and I baked up a perfect batch of chocolate chip cookies (that's really the recipe title), pulled on our wellies and tromped through the soggy lawn to present our "welcome neighbor" offering. We were greeted by a repair man who informed us that the owner would not be actually moving in for a few weeks - there is too much work that needed to be done inside first. We thanked him, and selfishly took our too-good-to-give-to-some-guy-we-do-not-need-to-get-to-know gift and came home and had cookies and milk.
As I hung up my umbrella on a thoughtfully placed hook right next to the entrance from the garage and put the wellies on a shelf on the other side of the door, I thought about the remnants of previous owners. Some of their legacy attracts us to houses. The lovely wood floors ours installed a few years ago. The stone fireplace and pine wainscoting in the family room. The flooring that doesn't show dirt and is easy to clean in the front entry and kitchen. Other things, we kind of curse them for. Like painting kitchen cabinets lavender. Or replacing stone blocks in the front walk with ones that absolutely do not match. Or painting a deck instead of staining it.
My house did not have to be gutted or even majorly repaired before we moved in. Sure, I didn't get it for the foreclosure steal that my new neighbor did, but Jeff and I knew that with our timetable (remember, a dissertation had to be finished), our budget, and our skills (or lack thereof) a fixer-upper was not what we wanted. We needed to know the total investment number going in, no surprises if possible.
So while my house still bears marks of previous owners here and there that we don't like and can't replace yet, there are things I like a lot. The window treatments left were fine, most even nice and neutral to boot, and I didn't have to spend a fortune on covering windows. The garage and basement came fully outfitted with storage shelves and hooks. There's a little organization station on the way down the basement stairs that is perfect for housing cleaning supplies. Someone made my girls very happy by thinking to build stairs up the wooded hill and put a little wooden house up there. The little half bath was re-done so nicely that my father-in-law just totally replicated it in his half bath (except his is a shocking green instead of pale yellow). The picket fence won my heart, as well as the little raised beds in the side yard, even those things need some work, badly.
I feel no ill will towards the previous house owners. The house felt taken care of when I moved in, and like people loved it enough to try to make it their space. I like that. To keep up these warm feelings, I try really hard not to look at what Zillow.com says my house is actually worth right now. I do not feel much of anything warm and fuzzy toward the previous owners of the house next door that was in foreclosure for a year.
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