The Victorian Money Pit

You may have noticed during the Great Sink Negotiation that DH Matt and I are temperamentally prepared to build a house without straining our marriage. This is because we have already been to Hades and back with our own Victorian Money Pit when we first married.

We had moved to the mountains to take care of his aging parents, who both lived here but not together (never divorced, but had been legally separated for over 30 years). They were both in their individual ways completely impossible for anyone to live with, so I could see their point. Our real estate agent was a great guy, but he hadn't a clue that we were completely eclectic people who wanted something different. He could have sold us a Dome home if he'd paid attention, or even a tree house if it was cunningly built. I'm certain, too, that we presented completely conflicting pictures to him. DH Matt would warm to anything 1970's, particularly if it came with hideous orange shag carpeting and flocked wallpaper.I was leaning towards a Victorian hung around with roses and a white picket fence.Poor, poor real estate agent. We ended up gifting him with a case of whiskey, because we found our house ourselves.

We'd been spinning around with the RE guy for 3 months. This woman was fed up...I made a list of our requirements. Something elegantly Victorian, something 70's. Some rug that most people would roll their eyes at but that we would think was cool. White picket fence and roses. On, for DH, at least an acre of land outside of town. And for me, as a bonus, a sauna and a jacuzzi tub (DH laughed). On a tiny little budget because even though we had more money DH wanted to conserve resources. We made our list and then we each signed it. Secretly, I had another line item. DH Matt had sold a business before we moved up here. He was "resting" now, which to me seemed to comprise of spending hours playing video games. So, to this wife, it was quite apparent that he needed a project. Yes, I can feel male readers wincing at those words.

One Sunday morning we were debating mildly once again over if spending yet another day with RE agent would be productive. We eventually scheduled with him for that afternoon. Later, I was idly leafing through the newspaper when an advertisement for an antique auction caught my eye. I knew that we absolutely had to be at that auction. Quickly, I called the RE agent and canceled...and whirled DH Matt out of the house we were renting, to catch the end of the auction. He was mildly protesting the necessity of looking at furniture when we didn't even have a house, but DH has always been a good sport.

The house where the auction was held was a Victorian, a gorgeous big old Estate House in an improbable country location, on 1.3 acres. It was in poor shape, with sagging porches and peeling paint. As I stepped through the back door to register us for the auction, I felt an electric tingle run down my spine. I called over my shoulder to DH, "Matt, we've found our house. This is it". DH Matt looked around at the state of disrepair and shuddered. Silently we explored the house, which would also be up for auction in another 3 weeks. The elegant triple parlors in front were carpeted in a large red and pink and black swirling cabbage rose print. I knew that this was a wildly expensive wool carpet. The back was a 70's add-on. The entire addition was carpeted in shag. The kitchen was a disaster, but large. DH Matt shook his head when he saw the sauna and hot tub in the addition's bathroom. We loved it.

We did buy that house. It needed everything; roofing, foundation, electrical, plumbing. It had never had central heating. We almost entirely remade the addition. We landscaped, built porches, made gardens. Everyone who saw it or who worked on it (DH did almost everything himself) commented to me that the house "had potential". What I didn't see was the shaking of their heads in wonder as they walked away (as in, "I wonder why these people are so crazy). I didn't know that "everyone" also commented to DH Matt, "It's quite a project you have here." We laughed when we eventually compared notes on people's comments. Friends of ours were taking bets over whether our marriage would make it through this house. Truth is, it really was a trial by fire. The house was a bit haunted. And Matt's parents were needing more time and energy in those days, too. But the house also had great energy. And when we were finished with it, it was drop-dead gorgeous. It also used great energy to heat through the winter, which is why we added solar panels. We eventually grew tired of drafty winters, and sold the house for a beautiful price. I still miss that house, in a way. It was so lovely...and it gave us the gift of a strong marriage, hardened in the furnace of bringing order to chaos. Hades indeed.