The basement, and other horrible things.

When we first put an offer in on the house, we weren't allowed to see the basement. It was so full of hoarded items that you physically couldn't enter it. On inspection day, the sellers were nice enough to push enough items out of the basement (and dump it out in the back yard...until we moved in) so we could see it. At least we were pleasantly surprised to find it in great shape -- no cracks or leaks...but the SMELL, oh the smell. (Urine has a way of insulting your nose and making your eyes water; it's like a form of torture.)

With around 75% of the basement's contents rotting in the yard, we were still left with the leftovers, which had to be dealt with in order to tackle the basement and put a hex on the pee-pee smell.

Of course, I had to document some of the entertaining finds:

Wiener dog door knocker anyone?

Dog food found gathered in the ceiling. The work of squirrels or an industrious pooch?

An entire box of gummy bears. Surprisingly these hadn't been pillaged by the rats and mice.

The freezer. Scary, and one of the last things to go. We filled 5 bin liner bags full of bread (in the form of buns, pizza shells, tortillas, and loaves of every shape and size), the odd headless fish, bacon-wrapped scallops, chicken, homemade borscht and a metal tray of raspberries.

A small bunch of things worth salvaging: an antique door, metal calliper set and a box of brass knobs.

This, however, was NOT worth salvaging (and kind of scares the crap out of me).

All of the heavy cobwebs just added to the decor and overall creepy feeling of the basement.

Where things are at

Things have been a little jumbled lately and my lack of blog posts stems mostly from a busy October with days stretching into weekends with my regular studio work. Trevor had more than a few lonely weekends working on the house with me stuck in front of a computer meeting deadlines. I think I needed a break from the regular blog posts as it meant I would be sitting in front of computer (again!). Here's hoping I'm back to some regularly scheduled programming!

Welcome to some photos of the inside of the house:

This is the view from the front door heading upstairs (oh, and that lovely blue tarp is the entrance to our only working bathroom). Insulation is the enemy here, especially blown-in attic insulation that has been plagued by a rat/mouse city development. Nothing gives me the heebie-jeebies more than thinking we have uninvited guests skipping above us using our insulation as their personal toilet. And nothing was worse than having to take it down and clean it up. (There was a point where I wondered if we'd ever reclaim the house -- the rodent poop outnumbered us 100000 to 1.)

The view into the kitchen. There's still some insulation in the walls to be taken out.

This will eventually be where the kitchen island will sit, and beyond that a closed-in mudroom. The chimney is being taken down as well.

Looking into the family room.

And lastly, looking up to the master bedroom. You can see how ridiculous it was to design a chimney to come up through the house, chopping room away from the mudroom storage and the bedroom.

The day the dump truck came

Did anyone see the holy beam of light shine down in this area not too long ago? Well, it brought forth a miracle in the form of a dump truck and digger-thingie (technical machine terms are not my strong point). And boy did they go! Most of the junk behind the house left (there's some paint and solvents we need to sort through) and a bunch more from around the scary barn. We had enough junk to fill 5 dump truck loads (and then some).

Junk pile details

These are a few close-ups of the junk pile in the back of the house -- also known as the pile that's been there since inspection day. Initially, when we first viewed the house, we couldn't get into the basement because the enormous piles of crap blocked every way in. (And we still wrote up an offer on it, were we crazy or what?)

They had to clear the basement for inspection, so they just dragged all of that junk out to the back...and left it there.

A bucket with photos, and the mega pack of children's Motrin.

A box of crackers that the mice feasted on.

A little heavy on the mayo

Here's proof of our bonus-with-house-purchase: three boxes of mayonnaise (at least).

Good things don't come in small packages

Over the weekend, I came across this package in the basement:

It was small, and unopened. I saw the dog and cat illustration and then had the word CREMATORY yelling at me from the label.

And then I put it all together. RIP Sno-Flake.

Being morbidly curious, I donned the sharp-y, stab-y tool.

BAM! Unmarked blue tin, that, when shaken, sounds like it has a bunch of very small pebbles in it. Sno-Flake in granulated form.

It was a tin that was identical to a pint of paint.

Now here comes the interesting part: I just happened to find a very similar unmarked can in the basement, that made the same shaky noise inside. I guess Sno-Flake has a cousin, and I now have a total of 3 dead animals here*.

* Well, if you're counting pets only -- 1 dead horse (buried -- illegally, incidentally -- but don't go looking for it as they stay 'juicy' for a long time, we're told) and two others (dogs? cats?). Trevor also came across 5 petrified and smoked bats in the chimney.

Augh, PANTIES!!

Found, as is, when we had possession.

(Bonus points to you keeners who can spot the fly getting it's 15 seconds of fame.)

Switch plate envy

After a small moving hiatus, I feel it's necessary to come back with a highly entertaining (or horrific if you're one of the two people who have bought this house) blog post. I'd like to introduce you to...drumrolllll please...our lovely switch plate covers -- or, more affectionately known as the worst craft ideas known to mankind:*

This one is double trouble. Doberman topper with a leopard-print and orange bow strangled mutt, with a screw for a nose.

I almost didn't manage to get this shot as the switch plate cover galloped off into the sunset shortly after. (No, not really. Just a dramatic effect.)

Wiener *shudder* dogs.

I know this one intimately as it's currently keeping post in our only useable bathroom. It makes the whole room feel mystical.

A triad of horses. I imagine them having a conversation about the giant screw head growth coming out of the center horse's face.

And this beauty. It's like an eye-spy game: 'I spy...something creepy in the woods'.

Oh! There's creepy winter Pocahontas! Or maybe it's bigfoot! Whatever it is, I feel like I need to go and rent 'Harry and the Hendersons' now.

*Okay, the Barbie doll toilet roll holder is right up there too.

More hoarding in the barn loft

Here's photographic evidence more 'stuff' crammed into the loft in the barn:

I spy an exercise bike, can you?

Sinks, sinks, and more sinks. And above that my Dad discovered super cheapie toilet paper -- the kind that comes out in small squares.

Formica repair kits anyone? We've got lots!

There's really no words for this scene, but we're keeping the hemlock moulding for when we eventually decide to fix up the barn (in the year 2030...).

Conquering the giant vine

One of the fine specimens of our garden was growing up the side of the house. Sure, it hides a lot of the ugly, but it's really not good to have little tendrils working their way into the siding, and then possibly tapping you on the shoulder while you sleep -- or worse, waking up covered in creepy vines. (Sorry, that's my worst-case overactive imagination talking there.)

I couldn't take looking at it any longer, so I decided to tackle it with whatever tools I could find laying around (and there's many). I came across a broom initially and smacked the living daylights out of it with some success, knocking most of it from the house. (I was like a horticultural gladiator...in my mind.)

Take a look at my handiwork, and notice the fact that windows exist under all of that:

A-mazing.

No really, they shouldn't have -- housewarming gifts from the previous owners

Usually, we like receiving gifts, but in this circumstance we don't have a choice. We're just starting to scratch the surface of the 'gifts' that have been left behind for us. For example:

• Blueberry jam (preserves?) and cans of dog food in a box. This was left on the porch for us.

• A plate o' half eaten ribs found in the garden. I guess it was just too difficult to bring inside and clean up. (I think this sums up the habits of the people who lived there nicely.)

• Surprise cars! We call them this because we haven't taken the tarps off yet, but we think Jaguars lurk underneath.

• More preserves and dulche de leche sauce. This was left just sitting on a cement ledge. The orange one is kind of pretty looking with the sunlight streaming against it. (I guess that's what you call 'making the best out of a bad situation'.)

• And these little beauties are scattered throughout the house. Each light switch has a different dog. Words can't describe how happy I'll be when these get replaced.

And on the first day, there was junk.

We finally had possession of the new house on Thursday afternoon (a day late thanks to legal issues that arose on the seller's end). With all of that behind us, we were finally able to set foot -- legally! -- on the property and take a look at what's now ours.

And let me tell you, it's far worse in person than it is in photos. This is a certifiable dump we're dealing with.

Close to the barn, it looks like a garbage dump.

Initially, we didn't set foot in the house; there were far more distracting issues that we were blinded by. Junk was (is!) piled everywhere. It looks like a small village was attacked, and the people dumped their belongings and high-tailed it out of there. Wait, that might not be so far from the truth. Here's a little background on our sellers that we've learned:

• There were two people living here, a man and a woman (married, we believe). The woman ran a dog breeding operation, and the man spent his time going to auctions and buying things (we think this was his job, but we're not certain).

• They have an absolute plethora* of baggage -- both in the physical sense and the life sense.

• They both have serious cleanliness issues, whether this is just pure laziness or a result of some mental issues, we can't tell. Maybe it's both. All I know is that no human being should ever live in the unsanitary conditions they've created.

• All of their neighbours are glad to see them go.

We walked around the property to survey the jaw-dropping scene of garbage/junk/who-the-hell-knows items. After half an hour I was numb (and my face hurt from making that 'oh my god' expression). Trevor seemed to take it in stride a little more, but maybe he's just better at hiding it. Wait, I know he's better at hiding it.

How we found the kitchen. These people are unreal.

We finally made it to the house, and my instinct to be cautious about it proved correct: it was horrible. Fly tape was strung from the ceiling (an effort to clean up?), the kitchen was a mess, floors were dirty, personal items and furniture were left behind, and the smell...oh the smell. Eau de dog funk? I can't sum it up in words, but it's a bouquet my nose won't forget anytime soon. Some horrible things we discovered later on:

• A washing machine full of black water (luckily today we discovered it can turn on and drain, it also contained a pair of socks and jeans).

• Cupboards full of old food (scraped up chunky peanut butter containers, ew), a freezer full of bread, and a fridge with milk in it.

• Old mattresses.

• And, quite possibly the most disgusting thing I've ever seen: an unflushed toilet (I won't go into detail, but it had been there a while).

This isn't the offending toilet from above, it's the one that made me dry-heave. The lovely toilet seat has a new home in the dumpster now.

While we were in the house, we saw some men in trucks pull up, and they explained to us that they were working with the old seller to take junk away and help him out. We had no problem with them carrying on with what they were doing previously (and hey, they have trucks, that's like gold to us at this point!). They have proven to be very handy over the past few days, taking away things that are trash to us, but treasure to them. We also found out from them what happened in the days leading up to our possession of the house, with one standout being that one of their horses (there were two) had to be put down as it was in ill health...and it's buried in our yard now. Let the horse poltergeist jokes start now (or horsegeist?)...

So, with two full days behind us, we've managed to clear out most of the main floor of the house, and almost filled a large dumpster out front. I took two hours and attempted to clean the small powder room bathroom on the main floor so it can be used (I've never been someone who's been overly queasy, but scrubbing that toilet almost had me dry-heaving over it). Cans of Lysol are like currency around here; every knob and light switch has had it's turn, along with walls, windowsills...anything that smells, or could smell.

Junk piled behind the house from the basement. This was also left for us.

The days ahead will be spent doing more the same, clearing piles of garbage and junk out of the house, and preparing it for demolition (not the knock it down kind, but taking it down to stud).

* That's the most dramatic word I could think of.

In 20 days it's all ours...

Welcome...home?

I can't help but feel like this is a bit of a joke, but we're actually moving into this. Okay, maybe I should clarify -- we're buying this, but we're not going to live in it for a while. Our grand plan is to take the last two weeks of August to do as many big jobs on the house as we can, meanwhile we'll have a 10 by 32 foot 'temporary' box dropped off for us to live in as of September...with no definite date* of living in this:

Don't get me started on this room, but those with a keen eye will spot the brilliant placement of a wood stove only 3 feet away from a hallway wall. Oh, and the fact that the stove touches the brick is a major no-no. So is the fact that some brilliant person put it on a diagonal. We'll be smashing this out.

Ah yes, the gourmet kitchen! What, you don't agree? Little do you know that ill-fitted dishwashers, old trash compactors, leaky faucets and deconstructed cabinets are en vogue for fall of 2009.

Pepto-coloured walls...antacid chic? I'm going to need something stronger than that to use this bathroom. Let's not even go there with that wooden toilet seat, I bet if we set it on fire it would burn for 3 days. (And the funky toilet schmears are from the well water, it's high in iron. A water softener is on the list to install.)

Oh! Hello, welcome to the barn! I think it has a most welcoming feel, with the chainsaw just sliding off the shelf to entice you inside. It's like a 'Where's Waldo' photo: car jack, check; WD-40, check; Ferrari, check! (Yes, that's a Ferrari. Whether or not it's left for us is a mystery at this point.)

After a hard day at work, I like to head back home on my motorcycle. I'm far to picky about leaving it outside, so I park it in the basement. Vroom vroom!

If you've made it this far in the photos, here's hoping that you can see the potential in it that we can. It's scary, smelly, dirty, in need of major repair...but, the positives are that it's only 21 years old (I know, I wouldn't believe it either -- but we've got the city engineering plans stamped to prove it), the foundation is sound, and it's got one hell of a knockout view behind the house.

*Pretty please, I'd like it to be before Christmas...of 2009.