Our search for a spruceable space was very short. There was only one option as to where to begin sprucing: our master (hellhole/pit of despair/health dept. citation waiting to happen) bathroom. See, our house is a 3/2, but it was built in 1945 as a 2/1. The main part of the house has good bones and the general run-of-the-mill old house problems - cracks in the ceiling, old, narrow cast-iron pipes, that sort of thing.
The addition, on the other hand, consisting of our master bed and bath, is a hodge-podge of pure half-assed redneckery (and if you think whole-assed redneckery is bad...). Basically the nitwit who bought the house from the previous owner (we like to call him Uncle McShoddy) was like, "Hey Bubba, I bet we can flip this daggone house with about $35 and that ol' toilet yer mama has sittin' on her back porch and we can trick some fancified Yankee into payin' way too much money for it," which is exactly what happened. Props to Bubba and Uncle McShoddy.
Being the green, naive, fresh-faced first-time homebuyers we were and facing a market filled with homes displaying various obvious signs of redneckery (anyone looking for a place with a window looking from the kitchen into the master bedroom? Because I know where you can find one...), we chose what we felt was the least 'necky option. Unfortunately, our house is like an undercover redneck. It's like a redneck with some learnin' at a fancy party. He's got a nice suit on and he knows how to pronounce the "g" at the end of "-ing" words, but get a couple of drinks in him and he's shooting empty beer cans off the balcony in two seconds flat.
In our house's case, it took about three weeks in our new house to discover that something was very, very wrong. For one thing, as inexperienced as we were, we were pretty sure the water's supposed to stay in the shower when you're showering. For another, we were also pretty sure that the water from the washing machine isn't supposed to back up into the shower and cover your feet with lint and cold water while you're showering. Also...erm...the toilet's not supposed to leak all over the floor...right? And hey...is that medicine cabinet installed upside down? It is! It's upside down!
We dealt with this problem by ignoring it. We stopped using the shower and did most of our bathroom-type activities in the other bathroom. And then the hot water heater exploded (no, literally, it exploded) and flooded our crawl space and yard and we discovered that much of the "plumbing" in the addition was actually refrigerator tubing. In case you were wondering, refrigerator tubing is not an acceptable substitute for, you know, pipes.
A real honest-to-goodness plumber came out and fixed that problem and replaced the refrigerator tubing and did what he could to right the snarled-up mess of back-ass-wards "plumbing" under the house, but as we looked around a few weeks ago, it was pretty clear that we needed to do some major work on the bathroom before we could hope to scam another fancified Yankee.
|More water damage! 'Cause y'all know, you don't need to make sure the floor under the toilet is level or anything...|
|See those pipes? They shouldn't be there...but what fun would it be to put them in the wall where they belong?|
|Yay mold! You don't have to take the shims out before you put the baseboards on. Life is more fun when you share your bathroom with a possibly toxic lower life form!|
|The biggest surprise of all? The dorky poses he gleefully struck with his new tools. And yet I still love him...|