The worst house on the street was my favorite. I don't want to know what that says about me or my psyche.
This was the third house I had decided to look at. The small town I was moving to for work had little options for renting, which is what I had done previously. This lack of viable living situations sent me on the hunt for a home to buy when I came across the one that would ultimately by mine. The narrow, cracked driveway barely held two vehicles as I pulled in after my realtor. My mother jumped from the passenger seat, anxious to do what she believed was her motherly duty at the time- keep this realistic. And lucky for her, the house made her job easy. The lawn while mowed down was wild, with flowerbeds that had been overtaken by grass, weeds, and dead bushes. There were two thriving trees that were untamed and determined to grow too close to the house despite the small flowerbed's space allowance. In the corner of the unkept beds laid a sad black shutter that had fallen from the window above.
Inside, the house was a medley of further issues that could be spotted with the naked eye. The cheap vinyl flooring in the kitchen and dining room was peeling at the seams. The appliances that were left behind had missing handles and grease-stained doors. The floor had a little bit of a tilt to it, and the whole house felt stuffy in the July heat. In the bathroom the heat had started to melt away the adhesive on the peel-and-stick tile flooring, and the rusted-out bathtub made an unwelcoming space seem even worse. But none of the design choices made me ponder more than the small, shallow closet in the master bedroom that had been turned into a half-bathroom, complete with an accordion door.
Now I know what you're thinking. What's not to love? From the considerable amount of visible mold to the completely hollow exterior doors you could fall right through- she's a beaut Clark. But listen, the older I get, the more I realize I lean hard into the stereotype of a fixer. Usually, it gets me into a lot of trouble, I can't lie. This was one of these times. I was absolutely bent on the idea of getting this house. Did I have the money to make the renovations I wanted? If only. Did I possess any of the skills that I would need to complete these projects myself through DIYs? Oh my gosh, I had no idea what I was doing. HGTV never prepared me for what I was about to get myself into. But I just felt like I needed it. It was an emotional time in my life, and this new house would signify a fresh start, something selfish that I could completely transform and tailor just for me. I was just barely able to get the loan to buy the house, but after about two days of negotiation, we had decided on a price and before I knew it I had the keys in my hand.
And boy oh boy has it been an adventure since the minute those keys were mine. I have tried my best to create a list of all of my embarrassing mistakes and lessons that completely flipping a home with no money, no time, and a lot of love taught me. This list definitely isn't comprehensive, but it is real. I can promise you that.
The List of Unexpected, Cliche, Practical Lessons That My First Home Taught Me:
First, pick the right tool for the job, because using the wrong tool for the job doesn't mean you won't get it done. What it does mean is that it'll take you way longer to finish said job. Before I bought a house, I had never personally used a power drill. (Nowadays it's one of my most reached for possessions.) While adding new hardware to the existing cabinets in the kitchen, I had to create new holes in the wood to make a space to screw the handles into. Instead of going and getting the swirly-wood-carvy bit used to actually perform this job, I decided I wanted to discover fire again. I took a regular Phillips head drill bit, and I pressed that baby into the marking on the cabinet until it smelled and looked like there had been a bonfire in my kitchen. To be fair, I didn't know what to use at the time, but the presence of that amount of smoke told me I definitely wasn't doing this correctly. If I had been stubborn and continued that cycle, I would've just ruined by best tool, all because I wasn't willing to learn the first time and swap out the right bit for the job.
Secondly, HIRE SOMEONE ELSE TO COME PAINT. Good night if there is one thing I need you to do it is this. Hire a painter. Hire painter(s) - plural- if needed. Do not be like me, painting the house still almost a full year later, hating every second of it. If it's just one room then fine, I'll give it to you. But we painted every square inch of the house from ceilings to cabinetry to baseboards. It took away valuable hours of my life. Don't be cheap unless you have to be. Think about the hours it will take you to finish the job before you skimp on hiring someone. Biggest house reno regret: myself and my family spent whole weeks in here doing what a professional could've done in two days. Don't be cheap when it's not smart.
Thirdly, you are built for community as a person. Don't just hole up in your house and create this fortress that you never let anyone into because 'it's not ready' or 'it's too far gone right now for you to see the vision' or 'I don't want them to feel obligated to help'. Girls and boys, you invite every friend you can to come over and visit you in that house. Have them over while you work, have them over to eat takeout on the floor and dream, have them over to help you pick paint colors or countertops. Just invite them in. This process is going to be exhausting and hard, don't make it lonely too. Because if we want to be honest, what a way to suck joy out of your first home by training yourself to be ashamed of it.
Fourthly, you are going to mess up. And to top that off, there will be so many things that will happen beyond your control. You won't get the home improvement loan because they'll say your two years of credit isn't long enough to qualify you. A pipe will burst. The 'completely fine' duct work under the house will have to be moved to the attic and totally replaced. Sewer will back up from the city line. You'll lose all the keys to the new locks except for one. The day you move in, your brand-new duct work will be useless because your 'almost brand new' air conditioning unit will go out and you'll have to buy a new one. You'll plant beautiful new flowerbeds with no weed resistance and have to pick them out daily. You'll continually forget to replace the sad fallen shutter, and when you get your appliances there will be no plug in for your dishwasher. The flooring installers will set your floors half an inch higher than before, and you won't be able to hang up a single door after they're done. (Including the bathroom door, and you won't be able to have guests over for a week because of it.) It will be an emotional roller coaster. You will cry and laugh and fear and pray in that house before you even get a chance to sleep in it if you have my luck. Flip houses are not for the faint of heart. So, gather up your why's, because you'll need them. Not just your family, but your friends too, your pets, your partner, thoughts about your future- heck sometimes even an encouraging conversation with your contractor. Hold onto those. Your 'why's' will get you through your 'whoa's'.
Lastly, take a stupid amount of pictures. This will be one of the biggest whirlwinds of your young adult life and one day you'll want to look back and remember it. Befores, afters, in the middles, etc. Take pictures frequently, of everything, always. You need to treat this the same way an Instagram food blogger treats a nice piece of Alvacado toast. Get all the angles and lighting options you can now. You can't go back and try again, so do it. If you don't want the pictures later, they're easy to delete (but you'll really want them).
I do not regret buying the worst house on my street, I just regret not knowing everything from that list before I started it. But that's the point, right? You live, and you learn. Hopefully, in your case, you read, then you learn, then you live better than I did the first time around. I love this tiny house and all of the projects I still haven't finished in it. It'll never be perfect, and I have completely had to redefine what I feel 'finished' looks like. But in my first few months of living in it this house has allowed me to host family dinners, and a baby shower for my best friend. I've had Gilmore Girls marathons with my mother in that living room we spent days painting, and dinner parties with my friends in the dining room I painstakingly wallpapered. My dogs spend hours in the backyard I bought for them to stretch their legs in, happily romping after one another and barking at their neighbor friends. The guestroom that I moved junky old furniture out of right after buying the house hosted my first real guest for an entire week, my grandmother. And I spend hours in my kitchen cooking on the countertops I picked out with one of my best friends.
This house for all of its shortcomings has already been a place of joy for my friends and family, which is what I have prayed for and planned for since it was bought. Despite all of those bumps in the road and unexpected happenings, this house pulled through. Like I mentioned before, I'm not sure what being attracted to a house like this says about me, but I will say I am proud of what the outcome says. Would I flip a house again? Maybe in a few years. Right now, this little house is it for me. And I am thankful to report: I no longer have the worst house on the street.
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