In my last post, No Direction Home , I toured the places I've lived in my life and ended up asking why I want to buy the piece of crap house pictured above. The house actually looks pretty good at 50 yards, but it's been empty for two years and just plain let go for too long. Major organs need to be replaced: roof, HVAC, and electrical for sure. The plumbing may or may not be okay.
The main part of the house is about 1200 square feet. The kitchen is actually pretty big--big enough to put in a table or an island. Note the original equipment Tappan wall oven (held shut with duck tape). The roof is on a slight pitch from the center of the house, not absolutely flat, so the ceiling over the sink is just crying out for skylights.
Here's the living room, with fireplace. I don't know whether the piano and cow skull stay or go, but the flooring is . . . uh, dark brown asbestos tile. They put that in a lot of houses in the 50s. Asbestos can't hurt you if it doesn't get released into the air, and nowadays they make very nice laminate flooring that could go right over the top. Wood would be lovely, but cork would be truer to the period, and linoleum in the kitchen.
These are the living room windows overlooking the back yard. The house doesn't have an official courtyard, but because the house is an "L" shape, it does have an enclosed, courtyard feeling. I can see a Japanese garden, with a rather formal fishpond, maybe rectangular. A lot of the wood siding would need to be replaced--dry rot.
You can start holding your breath at this point. After the screened-in breezeway, it starts to get really scary. The realtor calls what's next the "studio." Here's the studio ceiling . . .
And the floor. Yes, that's a surfboard.
But what I see in this extra 500 square feet is a terrific master-bedroom suite! It would have a great bathroom with a sunken tub and a lot of glass block. A platform bed and some french doors opening out onto the Japanese garden. A little bistro table, some decent croissant and coffee . . .
I never appreciated mid-century modern before, but there's something magical about it to me now. I crave all clean lines and uncluttered space, what the piece of crap house could be.
That even looks like my Honda Civic in the carport!
Before, I would have found this kitchen sterile, but now it's the embodiment of calm. I just love the little mosaic tiles--mine would be white with little blips of random color.