House 17

I don’t believe I’ve yet described the state of our current living accommodations to any of you. Well, that should be fixed. Imagine, if you will, a small house from the 1930’s with one primary story, an attic, a basement, and all of the quirky old-house features you can imagine. The main floor consists of a kitchen, dining area, bedroom, and living room. Oh, and the bathroom. The bathroom is easy to forget because it’s in the kitchen and it's about the size of our pantry at home. Strange, I know. It’s the only bathroom in the house and yes, when you leave you walk right into the kitchen sink.

The attic is my bedroom. It’s not bad up there, aside from the fact that there’s no heat and that I repeatedly hit my head on the guards around the light bulbs in the ceiling. Having the ceiling just a foot higher would be nice. The heat isn’t too much of a problem, thanks to a large hole (it's suppsosed to be there, but I have no idea what it's for) that looks strait down into the kitchen. I get enough heat through it to sleep well. The stairs are a bit of a challenge, though. They’re very sturdy but steep, which I wouldn’t mind except that the height of each step is different. This can be quite hazardous in the dark, especially since most of them are significantly higher than we’re used to.

Speaking of stairs, the steps into the basement could use some work, considering that my current technique for getting down there involves pressing my hands against the overhang in the ceiling to ensure that I am doing the limbo well enough to get my head under without hitting it (Dad, you would not like this house. I've hit my head going up into the attic several times as well).

There is one other point worth mentioning…the profuse use of duct tape around the house. It was one of the first things I noticed upon entering the house. The seals around every window are taped, and with good reason as we’ve discovered during this stint of bad weather. The bathroom is absolutely strewn with duct tape, particularly around the seals (or lack of seals) for the faucets in the shower, and around what looks like it used to be a vent to the outside. Last but not least, the door into the main house from the entryway is adorned with a floor-to-top-of-doorjamb double-wide strip of duct tape. The reason for this has also become apparent recently. You see, neither the door into the house nor the one into the entryway from outside actually latch anymore. Normally this isn’t a problem, but when the wind blows from the West, the entryway door is flung open. Without the duct tape, the wind rushes right through into the house.

Despite a few deficiencies, it’s really quite a sweet house. The kitchen floor could use some work, as I discovered the other day when I decided to wipe up a spill. I discovered that the grey tone of the linoleum is somewhat deceptive. Well, you can see for youself.