The Search for the Right House

When you look for a house, you generally have a list of criteria that the house must meet. You probably have a budget, a general idea of location and size. You may want a new house, or maybe an older house would suit you more. Maybe there’s a particular style house you’ve always dreamed of. Every person’s list is different and, mostly, every house is different. It’s all a matter of finding the one you love.

The wildly overgrown garden at The Coming Home House that
will require a great deal of attention.

Before I began my search I sat down and considered what I wanted. I had a budget and knew the general location I wanted. Because I was originally from Chicago I was pretty familiar with the many communities in the area. After spending some days refreshing my memories (and in some cases, changing my impressions!) I was able to narrow my initial search to two towns. I wanted at least three bedrooms, one for me and two for my sons just in case they came home for a while. I also knew that I wanted something that wasn’t “perfect.” I have chronic “renovation-itis” and knew I needed something I could turn into my own, put my signature on. Finally, I was pretty sure I wanted a house that would afford one level living. I’m old enough to believe that the house I bought would be my last one before they would have to wheel me off to the nursing home, and so I wanted a house that would allow me to age gracefully.

Armed with my list, I began my search. To be honest, because I had plenty of time before I absolutely had to find a house, I assumed I’d spend as much as a year or more finding the right home. In fact, I told my realtor that after six to eight months of unsuccessful looking, I was prepared to expand my search to several other communities.

The kitchen, before. Pickled wood cabinets that need
repair.

To my surprise, right away I found houses that looked good, even possible, but nothing that truly “spoke” to me. I saw one house I loved, but it had no basement, which I then realized was something I really wanted. The house was priced too high, to boot. The “cosmetics” were right, but I decided to wait and keep looking.

Then my realtor took me to The Coming Home House. At first glance, it had many strikes against it. It was at the very top end of my budget and from the outside, it didn’t excite me. The front steps were covered with fraying and dirty outdoor carpet, the garden was wildly overgrown, the vinyl siding was dirty and had holes in it, the garage door dented, and the front door desperately needed to meet up with a can of paint.

The master bathroom, before.

Once inside my initial impression didn’t improve much. The front hall and combination living/dining room were populated with a mix of country and Victorian furnishings which did nothing to highlight the style of the house, plus an overstuffed behemoth of a sofa, the looks of which made it quite clear the family who’d lived there had pets. The pickled kitchen cabinets screamed 1990, especially in contrast to the bile gold walls. The three bedrooms continued the impression. In one we found more country furniture, in another miles of double-stick foam tape holding up posters of Chicago sports celebrities, and in the last, a combination of paint colors that wasn't at all my style.

The big, kitschy bar in the basement.
Will it survive renovation?

The bathrooms, like the kitchen, had clearly been renovated in the 1990s. They seemed “livable,” and appeared to need only a coat of paint on the walls, but as I stood there I felt a slight case of vertigo coming on. I soon realized that every towel bar, every light fixture, every outlet and every light switch were slightly askew and loose. Had a drunken contractor installed them all?

In the basement, we found a huge living space with walls covered in 1970s fake wood paneling and newer carpet that, unfortunately, confirmed there had indeed been pets. In one corner of the room was a huge, kitschy bar, complete with deep brown naugahyde-covered edges, and equally huge matching swiveling bar chairs. Could I play up the kitsch and turn it into a party room akin to those in which I’d spent so many of my teen years? Hmmm….the possibilities! Tucked in the back of the basement was, I was happy to see, a recently renovated bathroom, complete with a huge shower, and a beautiful, big and bright laundry room.

The living/dining room, before. I was taken with the
big windows, the floor to ceiling fireplace, and
the beautiful wood floors.

Yes, this was a fixer upper, but it was livable and had good flow. Once I looked past the incongruous furnishings, I saw huge beautiful windows and charming coved ceilings in the living/dining room. The wooden floors were pristine and all the rooms were nicely sized. The kitchen was huge and I could immediately imagine how amazing it would be to open it to the living/dining room. There was a gorgeous floor to ceiling wood-burning stone-covered fireplace in the living room, and another down in the basement, just as I had hoped to find. And in the front hall the 1950s deep green and red slate floors and period stone wall caught my attention and my heart. The lot, while overgrown and in need of some serious gardening, was large enough to imagine a dog romping in the backyard and small enough that I knew I’d be able to maintain it on my own. Finally, there was an enormous attached garage. I loved the house and I loved the neighborhood.

The stone wall and beautful slate floors are lovely.

It didn’t have great curb appeal and there was no great staging, but the house was speaking to me, urging me to make it my own. And so I made an offer.

Before my offer had been accepted I was busy planning how I was going to put my signature on it, chomping at the bit to open my first can of paint! Yes, my adventure with The Coming Home House was about to begin!