Gutting and rebuilding

 

In the summer of 2021, becoming tired of apartment living and wanting to establish ourselves in a neighborhood, we started looking at houses: big, small, too close to the neighbors, too expensive, ugly, less ugly. We kept a careful eye on the market and looked at neighborhoods near and far, establishing one single ground rule: no living on a road that had a yellow line running down the middle.

And we finally settled on ugly.

After finding out about this house from its next-door neighbor via a Facebook neighborhood page, we found the owners there. The house wasn’t on the market yet; but they let us walk through as they sorted, held onto, or tossed the detritus that was the end result of their parents’ life together.

The house had a door in every room, effectively cutting the inhabitants off from each other, if so desired. It had cheap ‘70s paneling and atrocious wallpaper elsewhere. Crying out for replacement, the original appliances stood sentinel as did the window in the kitchen looking out into the garage. Shockingly, the original carpeting lay there like a tired, old, wet dog and didn’t smell much better.

My husband and I looked at each other with the same thought: this house had potential.

We bought it at a price that was way more than it was worth, but that was the sellers’ market speaking. The house was a single story, just the size we had hoped for, in an established neighborhood with lots of trees and big yards, and within walking distance and short driving distance to everything we could possibly want.

Initially, destruction was the name of the game, and the four of us pitched in. Rachel’s boyfriend even got in on the action. Ripping up the carpet that smelled so bad that my granddaughter ran screaming like a banshee was paramount. Ripping out the paneling came next.

We realized the importance of getting an architect involved—enter Nathan. Our son offered great ideas on getting rid of walls and adding new ones. (We would’ve been at sea and our house would’ve become just another boring ranch without his professional help.)

My husband, software engineer by trade/handyman by interest, helped the rest of us in the steady destruction, but he also rebuilt. Steve’s biggest initial improvement was to change all the vents to floor rather than baseboard vents. That was a huge job that even required the repositioning of one of the large wall vents.

Since I was a 98-pound weakling, I contributed in any way I could. While I couldn’t remove paneling, appliances, or cabinets, I could remove wallpaper; wash and paint doors, walls, and ceilings; and, last but not least, line up contractors.

We eventually settled on a contractor who became responsible for the electrical, the dry wall, the carpentry (both rough and finished), and the final bathroom remodel. We found our own contractors who addressed issues underneath the house, all flooring, plumbing, kitchen cabinet and granite installation, and kitchen cabinet purchase (a designer offered her layout expertise as part of the deal). We recently brought another contractor onboard to build a screened-in porch from which we can witness the morning sunrise. And, Steve, always an energetic perfectionist, has been steadily working on the house or yard just about daily since the purchase.

Obviously, there were a lot of steps that I'm not listing, even some contractors I've neglected to  mention . (I'd be happy to talk to you about them if asked.) Suffice it to say that gutting and rebuilding was the most challenging project we’ve ever encountered—well, except for raising kids. And I don't want to downplay the angst we experience in trying to establish new friendships. That's not so easy at our age and with the pandemic still on the horizon.

We bought the house in July, moved in in December, and celebrated our one-year anniversary just recently. We love our house and our neighborhood. We are really enjoying getting to know our neighbors. And, of course, we are excited about living near our kids and grandkids.

Life is never particularly easy, but it can be good nonetheless.

What follows, for the most part, are pictures comparing the before and after of the same rooms. The solid wall of paneling has turned into the wall with two open doorways.