The Waterbed

So, while exploring further in the "warehouse" that is our newly acquired property, we discovered a waterbed in one of the upstairs bedrooms. There has already been a ceiling collapse from a bathroom leak and we certainly didn't want another, so we decided to drain the mattress. Establishing a siphon turned out to be a bit harder than we expected because there was no running water in the house. Finally we ran a garden  hose from a faucet on the side of our house, over the fence and through the upstairs window and backfilled the mattress then disconnected the hose from the faucet. While the mattress drained we sorted through the pile of clothes on the bedroom floor, throwing away socks, underwear and butt-torn jeans; there were 4 pairs of like-new khaki Dockers in my husband's size. Alas they are pleated and cuffed; don't even ask.

A neighbor who has done restoration work came by to see if we might like some help. After a thorough walk-through, he confirmed our thoughts that our BIGGEST job will be cleaning the house; structurally it is pretty sound. No problem -- after all, there are cartons of cleaning supplies scattered throughout the house.

Risky Business

Earlier this week, while talking with friends, someone mentioned a piece of advice they had heard about living life mindfully – do something that frightens you every day, not frightening like spooky frightening or getting mugged frightening but instead something that requires you to make a scary leap of faith or a commitment to a project, or a change in your investments direction. A better way to say it might be make yourself open to taking a risk.

The absentee owner of the house next door decided it was time to divest himself of the property that he has been using as a storage facility for the last 5+ years. Utility services, sans water, have been maintained as has the minimal landscaping, but the inside of the house has not been cleaned in YEARS. The garage is full of tools and boxes, possibly raccoons, and fleas; while scouting through the piles of boxes and power tools, we discovered the mummified body of a yellow-striped cat. The ceiling in the dining room is water-stained and has a massive hole as a result of a leak in an upstairs bathroom hidden  in which is a Rice Krispies box filled with  Penthouse magazines. Bureau drawers in bedrooms are stuffed with white tube socks and underwear. Suits, sports coats, and dress shirts hang in closets. Eyeglasses are scattered all around. Cabinets in the laundry room, kitchen and bathrooms are filled with cleaning supplies which is quite ironic given the degree of dirtiness in this house. Considering this state of disarray, a portion of which the owner intended to allay by hiring a company to come in and dispose of furnishings and junk, our neighbor decided he would sell the house for a price less than half of its current taxable value and perhaps a third of the value of my house, right next door.

Yesterday that house, and all its contents,  became ours.  My stomach is still in knots.