Appetite for Destruction

Clearly nothing happened at the house over the winter. But over the April Easter weekend, we installed a giant dumpster out front and Chris, his brother Kevin, and two nephews Jon and Josh met up to tear out the entire upstairs. We're talking layer upon layer of old drywall, plaster and lath, insulation, all bathroom fixtures, and those gross old laundry appliances as well.

Kevin was skeptical when he heard I'd ordered the 6' x 20' dumpster, which has 6'-high sides. Well, the only other option was the same dimensions, but only 4' high. I figured, better to have more room than you need than to run out of space. It turns out I was right. They filled that sucker well past the brim.

Since the dumpster was somehow not placed very close to the house (the guys had hoped to be able to throw stuff out of the upstairs windows to land in the dumpster), there ended up being a massive pile of debris on the grass. They found a neighbouring farmer with a tractor and paid him $100 cash to spend 20 minutes shovelling it into the dumpster. Chris says it was the best money they spent all weekend. The same farmer expressed an interest in the tired old sewing machine and possibly even the old organ, but never came back for it. Perhaps he will come claim them this summer?

Apparently it was messy, dirty, stinky, hard work. I'm not surprised. But I will say, believe it or not, that I was sorry I wasn't there. I think despite all the bitching and moaning about sore muscles and inhaled dust and god-knows-what, the guys had fun doing it. Apparently Kevin only fell through the ceiling from the attic once!? They stayed at the Grays' cottage in Stanley Bridge and worked at our house during the day. But enough blathering, I'll let the pictures tell the story:

Above: The Dumpster, placed nowhere near where we had hoped it would be. The guys unloading tools from Kevin's car.

Above: The house upstairs, in the state that Kevin had left it when he'd been there for a few days in March.

Above: Jon wields an ax and takes out the lath in one bedroom.

Above: The dust starts to really fly.

Above: The destruction, the mess.

Above: The rubble starts to build up.

Above: Josh tackles the bathroom.

Above: Tub not out...yet.

Above: The ceiling has come out, along with a lot of old pink insulation.

Above: The dumpster, still pretty empty.

Above: The pile of rubble that has come out of the upstairs windows so far.

Above: The wall is down between the two front bedrooms.

Above: What's left of the bathroom.

Above: One of our neighbours pitches in with his tractor.

The tractor accomplishes in 20 minutes (and an extra $100) what would have taken the guys hours to clean up.

Above: Ta da! All cleaned up - and amazingly full.

Above: One of the back bedrooms, all cleaned up.

Above: Looking through the wall from one bedroom to the other.

Above: The large front (master) bedroom, all cleaned up.

Above: Small front bedroom, straight through the bathroom on the right, and into the back bedroom in the background. You can see the footings of the closet that was in the foreground.

Above: The hallway, with a bedroom on the right.

Above: Done and getting ready to go.

Some progress

Since we were only going to be on the Island for two weeks, we had to rush to line up quotes and trades to get some of the more pressing things done. Ideally, we wanted the roof to be finished before we left. The insurance company was also insisting on the immediate removal of the old exterior oil tank, which was precariously propped up on a wood platform. Couldn't blame them for that. They also insisted on the removal of the old wood stove in the back room, and that was fine with me. While it was kind of cool in its own way, it wasn't in great shape and it wasn't particularly attractive up close. It also took up a decent chunk of floor space.

We started calling people the next day. One challenge was the PEI phone book, which covers the whole island. So you're not always sure if you're calling someone in Charlottetown, Souris or O'Leary, unless you know the local exchanges (which I generally don't). I called quite a few roofers with ads in the Yellow Pages, only to find out they were quite far away and weren't interested in a job in our somewhat remote location. I left a lot of messages and was getting rather discouraged after several days passed and I had nobody to even give me a quote.

Finding someone to remove the oil tank was simple, since this is such a common practice on PEI. Since there is no natural gas line to the Island, oil is still a very popular heating option, and the province is getting really strict about replacing older tanks to avoid ground contamination. If there is a leak or spill, it costs big bucks (for the insurance company) to clean it up. So we found someone to do that immediately. Not an exciting step for sure, but a necessary one. I don't have a good shot of the tank in place (here's the best one - it's on the side of the house next to the big bush):

And here is a shot of that side wall with the oil tank gone:

And a closeup:

Hardly the most thrilling before-and-after story, but it was a relief to get that thing out of there. We'll likely leave the wood platform in place until the time comes to paint the exterior. Well, it's clearly time to paint the exterior now, but that likely won't happen for a while.

The wood stove removal was also fairly straightforward. It took a few calls to find someone to do it, but we found a place in Summerside that agreed to do it for a reasonable price and within the week. We met them there at an agreed-upon time and when they looked at the stove there was a lot of head-scratching and grumbling. They decided it would be best to pull up to the front door, which because of the lack of porch, was level with the back gate of the truck. Much easier than trying to manoeuver it down the back steps and risk parking their truck on the septic field. They ended up using some kind of huge metal cutter to take the stove apart into two sections since it was so incredibly heavy. There were dramatic sparks and extremely loud griding noises and a lot of cuss words. Here are some in-action shots:

There was a lot of soot and blackened metal left on the floor when they got it out, but they cleaned up nicely and also took the big green water tank with them (apparently the old stove would also have been used to heat water back in the day). For some reason I didn't take a proper "after" shot once the thing was gone, but the room isn't exactly pretty yet anyway. The floor underneath the stove was in reasonably good shape too, which was a nice surprise.

Several more days passed before we got someone to go to the house and give us a roof quote, and the estimate came in just under $5,000, which was what we hoped the maximum would be. The guy was local, the quote seemed reasonable, so we told him to start as soon as possible. He said he hoped to start the following week, which would be just before we were due to leave. Oh well, he was our only real hope. We hoped for dry weather and continued on our family vacation - beach days, amusement parks, sightseeing and...demolition???

The To-Do List

In the weeks between having our offer accepted and arriving to take possession, the not-so-fun task of arranging insurance fell to me. One company flat-out refused us coverage, which didn't bode well. But then PEI Mutual, who apparently covers most of the old farms on the Island, came through. But they had a list of demands to be met, the first of which was to get rid of the old oil tank attached to the outside of the house, and the other to remove the old wood-burning stove from the back room. So those were tops on our list, but our absolute number one priority was to have the roof replaced.

And as we drove up to the house for the first time since it had become ours, it became apparent that some lawn care was in order. This is what we were met with:

The house was now sitting in what looked like an overgrown hayfield, with long grasses and wildflowers rippling in the breeze. Mosquitos were rampant. In the second photo, the old oil tank is visible sitting on its rickety wood platform.

The pictures don't really show just how long the grass was, but Cameron could barely walk through it and it was probably up to the tops of my legs. Here's a view along the fenceline to the west:

Seems there will also be some tree work and fence repair in our future, although the new property line was extended a good 20 yards past this fence, giving us about three-quarters of an acre. The roof was still looking pretty desperate too:

Inside, things were exactly as they'd been when we'd seen the place in April. Not a stick of furniture had been removed, and it was clear that it was all now ours. Of course, none of it was very appealing, but it would be handy to have the large dining table and chairs to use while we renovated. In one corner of the living room were two boxes filled with old photos, yearbooks, dishes and other odds and ends. The kids had fun exploring the boxes. Cameron uncovered this ceramic treasure:

Amongst the family photos, there were a few treasures too, in some old pictures taken in and around the house a long time ago. It was clear that the photos were from the '70s and '80s, and the house looked to have been in pretty good shape then. Seemed like that was probably the last time it might have been lived in full-time. One character kept popping up in a lot of the photos, and he looked like the father of his young family and that he'd been a bit of a good-time kinda guy, if you know what I mean. It was quite fascinating to pore through the pictures.

After exploring the house for quite a while, we left for that day, headed back to my inlaws' cottage with a slew of calls to make the following day.

The big purchase

For a good couple of weeks after returning home, we debated endlessly. I wanted it. He didn't. Just when I was about to give up, he'd light the fire again by suggesting that maybe he was into it. I'd get all revved up again, and we'd go back and forth, back and forth.

Eventually we decided to put in a really lowball offer, just to see what happened. The asking price was $39,500. We figured that if we could get it for way less, it might just be worth it. We contacted agent Mike and let him know we were coming through with an offer after all, but that it would be a lowball. I drafted an email for him to show the vendor, detailing all the things the house needed immediately and wild guesses about what it would all cost. We figured the highest we'd be willing to go was $28,000. So we put in an offer at...wait for it...$19,500. I felt ballsy and daring, and thought we might just get flat-out rejected. The optimist in me thought that we might get lucky though (or would that be unlucky??!).

The counter offer came back (a good sign). The vendor came down a lot, to $24,500. I was ready to just sign the dotted line right then and there, but Chris, ever the cheapskate, thought we should try and get it lower. We countered at $22,000 and then finally settled at $23,000. I couldn't believe it. We'd just bought a house (albeit a total dump) for $23,000. In PEI, like we'd always wanted.

Fast forward two months to mid-July, and we had another $500 knocked off the final price for the plumbing not being hooked up in the bathroom. The water test had checked out fine, and we were driving down to the Island again with an appointment with a lawyer for the Monday after we arrived. We'd be picking up the key to our new house. Lots of plans in our heads and a line of credit burning a hole in our pockets!

Heading home (disappointed...maybe)

When Chris got back to the house after the inspection, he was raring to hit the road as soon as possible, a day earlier than planned and only a day after we'd arrived. Apparently the news all over the radio was that a major winter storm was coming and that if we didn't get out ASAP, we'd be stuck here, possibly for days. We raced back to the cottage, packed up and hit the road without looking back. We stopped near Fredericton for dinner and made it to Woodstock for the night. During all the driving, we didn't say much about the house. I do remember Chris saying at one point, "You'd have to pay ME to take that house!" It was pretty much over. We were both disappointed, but kind of relieved. However, I still couldn't stop thinking about it, and now that I'd seen the inside, thinking about how great it could be. But I kept my thoughts to myself.

That night in the hotel I could hardly sleep. I just couldn't make myself stop going over each room, even the yard, thinking what could be done, how the house could be saved. The next day, driving through Quebec, I admitted to Chris that I still thought, just maybe, I know it's crazy, you're going to kill me, but I kind of still wanted the house. Thankfully he didn't divorce me on the spot.

The Inspection

The house inspection at this point seemed like a waste of money, but we were prepared to accept that. We had to have our first and only look at the house, and the inspection, all at once. We were planning on heading back home the next day so this was our only chance to do it all.

Once we met the inspector, we decided that the kids had had enough running around a dangerous, cold house and snowy, cold yard. Chris loaded them into the car and took off for Summerside for McDonalds and Wal-mart - two places guaranteed to keep them entertained for a while. Agent Mike also had to go to another showing, so I was left on my own to face the inspection. I zipped my coat higher and started the exterior walk-around with the inspector.

There were no surprises here. The roof shingles were badly curled on one side and needed replacing. This was visible to even the most untrained eye, aside from the fact that we now knew the roof had leaked in the bathroom. The old shingled siding badly needed painting, and some areas probably needed replacing too. The front door sill was rotted entirely away at one end. Windowsills were spongy in some spots and needed replacing or at least a good coat of paint. The old oil tank was rusty and would definitely need replacing. (Oil companies in PEI now can't even fill an oil tank unless it's been inspected and tagged.) The foundation, however, seemed fine.

Inside, the inspector didn't point out much that wasn't already glaringly obvious. The house needed to be rewired with a new upgraded panel. The two furnaces in the basement were now good for scrap metal only. The plumbing needed repair but was actually a bit of a mystery since it hadn't been connected in time for the showing. We could see that the toilet was actually not even connected to the water supply. There was some water damage on the window interior frames. Perhaps the only good news was that the stove and fridge were relatively new (like, say, 10 years old) and seemed to work fine.

He offered some suggestions for fixing the leaky basement, none of which sounded cheap. He warned against doing simple patch-job cosmetic fixes to the house, rather than tearing it up and fixing it properly. I didn't even think it was possible to just cosmetically fix the place. It was bad. He did a lot of head-shaking. I wrote him the cheque and he was just packing up when Chris returned with the boys.

The Showing, part 3

As we ascended the stairs, we could see the floors in the upstairs hallway had been covered over by newer plywood subfloor some years ago. Nothing else shocking in the upstairs hallway. It had a charming little window at floor level that allowed some natural light into the space. It was also a fairly decent-sized hallway:

The bedrooms were a mixed bag. Two of them were pretty bad, having had their walls partially torn out and not yet fixed. One room had had the original plaster removed, but the lath was still in place and covered over partially with ugly 1970s faux wood panelling. Yucky stuff. Again, layers of stained and rather hideous wallpaper covered any intact walls. Flooring was also a mix. In the two bad bedrooms, layers of old linoleum were laid on top of the original wide-plank pine subfloors. And one of the worst parts is that these two rooms were missing all of their original trim. Only the battered old original doors were there, but without doorknobs. Here are those two rooms:




The other two bedrooms were better, but hardly charming. The largest room was sort of L-shaped, and would likely be considered the "master" bedroom. It had old pink wallpaper on most walls, and a wall or two of badly peeling paint. Aside from that though, the original wood floors were intact and in decent shape, and all the trim was in place:

The fourth and final bedroom was also in fairly good shape. It was a long, narrow room with a closet in one corner. The wallpaper was circa-1980s pink with rainbows (exactly the kind of wallpaper I would have coveted when I was a girl). Again, the floors and trim in this room were largely fine:






The bathroom was next. After the kitchen, we were somewhat prepared. And we've seen some bad bathrooms in our lifetime. It turned out that the roof had leaked, and was still leaking, in the bathroom area. The room was bright and had a dormer window. It was very small but workable, and everything fit in a logical layout. But the ceiling was partially coming down, with mouldy bits of insulation and drywall falling all over the place. The plastic tub/shower surround was coming away from the wall and it looked like nobody had dared take a shower there for years. The sink sat on chrome legs and the toilet wasn't even connected. But still, it could be worse. All the fixtures were white, after all, rather than sky blue or pink. But it was definitely a gut job no matter what. Brace yourself:

OUCH. This is about when Chris was ready to throw in the towel. It became a bit obvious that we were going to be walking away.

But still, the house inspector was due to arrive at any minute, so at the very least we were going to be out about $300 to have the place checked out. We quickly dashed down to the basement, only to find that the entire lower level was flooded with about four to six inches of water. Two ancient furnaces (one oil, one wood) sat partially submerged in the flood, clearly unusable and possibly even a fire and safety hazard. We went back up to the main level and that's when agent Mike asked us, "Sooo...is it what you expected?"

I answered simply, "It's worse than I thought it would be."

That's about when the house inspector arrived.