The Joy of Old Houses

I've always loved old houses. The style, the history, the personality - the new housed just can't compete. When we bought our 1900 house I was ecstatic - sure, it needed work, but nothing we couldn't handle.

Go forward 4.5 years. The house still looks like early ghetto. We DO have hot water and a kitchen, thankfully. The husband is making a strong attempt to finish the walls in the main rooms so I can paint them - and I've actually chosen paint! I had to empty and move all the bookcases so he could GET to the walls, though. He was in spackling last week, then called me. He directed my attention down to an abandoned, coverless outlet that had been behind the bookcases. The back half of a mouse was hanging out of the wall, tail dangling.

Can you say, "YUCK! YUCK! GROSS!!!"? Cause I did. Or possibly I said more than that - I don't really remember. I had been smelling something "unusual" for the past month, a girlfriend had been telling me the animals probably dragged a potato somewhere, and it was decomposing. Well - it was decomp - but no potato.

Now...how long until I can walk into the dining room without wrinkling my nose???

And....it's almost time to cut the field behind us - which means we will once more be inundated with the lovely mice. We DO have three cats - time for earn their kibble!

Ah...lovely Victorian houses. Is there anything better?

Don't ask.