Sunday, November 1, 2009
Keys To My Castle
As I pulled into the farm, not much had changed since my prior visit. The morning was cool and crisp but no bad storms and the weather called for a nice day. I prayed my utilities and gas hook up had happened.
As planned, my house key was left in a flower pot on the back porch. Along with a few newer keys, attached were the original skeleton keys to the front door. Sweet.
Lights, check. Phone, check. Water, nope. No way to check the gas as it was for the heat and hot water heater.
Settle in dogs and cat, fret over daughter's tummy and first impression of her Mom's purchase.
Quick run to Walmart 17 miles away to pick up food, bottled water, tummy remedy and even more cleaning supplies, I left daughter sleeping in recliner left from previous owners.
After searching all the lines and outbuildings, I found the water cut off valve and got the water running. Somewhat. One toilet was stopped up, the other ran pretty bad and there was a water leak in one bathroom where the claw foot bathtub had been removed. A call to the realtor gave a reference to a local plumber that would arrive tomorrow. Since we were "hurricane girls" we knew could rough it one night.
Exhausted and running on adrenaline, I decided the easiest place to clean and prepare for sleep was the foyer. I scrubbed from floor to ceiling, set up the two recliners with linens and there was the temporary bedroom.
And I cleaned. And cleaned. And then I cleaned some more. Daughter slept and felt better in small increments. No more upchucking but very little eating. She even rallied for a short period of time and scrubbed out the old refridge, making it sparkle like new. I was overjoyed that both the fridge and stove actually worked for my budget was slim for this move. Very slim. Barely $3000 total to carry me until a job came along.
Our plumbers came and took care of all plumbing related matters. Seems this house had been a bit of an enigma for the father and son pair. I was told this was probably one of the few houses in the county they had not visited in one way or another. Curiosity reigned as they crawled up the attic, down in the root cellar, thru out the entire house proclaiming it a great, sound building after inspection, well worthy of restoring. Other than a few areas, most of the work that was needed was cleaning and painting, just cosmetic in nature. Same thing I had heard from the realtor when she had a contractor take a peek after I had bought it. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I could clean. I could paint. I could rough it.
The visit lasted for well over two hours, and when it was done, I had my first friends in my new home. And they had a great story to tell of the Florida lady who bought the old place.