The old house soul...

As you read my blog do you find yourself wondering what in the world we were thinking taking on this enormous project?  You are not alone.  My husband finds himself right there with you.  This morning I found him in the basement bushwacking his way through cobwebs to insulate any bit of exterior wall he can find.  I am afraid he has become...INSULATION MAN.  He is a master at spray in GREAT STUFF and trimming the itchy stuff to fit between unevenly spaced joists.  He has even tacked the hard silver stuff to the back of the bulkhead door.

The basement is not a pleasant place.  It is filled with dankness.  Thin concrete floors that give way to dirt.  The low beams are host to a myriad of cobwebs and the strangest white petrified spiders.  Okay now I know you are dying for a photo - the stairs alone are a work of art which have settled to an odd angle which makes you feel seasick or slightly drunk.

Anyway I digress, I was called into the basement to the tune of "you have to look at this".  This is just never a good thing by the way.  So I followed the voice, down the dim seasick stairs into the bowels of the basement where my husband is poking at a window to show me how it does not have any glass.  It actually is not a window but a wooden frame stuffed with insulation and covered with a piece of plastic (think saran wrap) and the snow is practically gleefully falling into the house...

He turned to me (did I mention his one bloodshot infected eye from dealing with 100 years of dust) and said "honey I really hate this house"....

I am not convinced that he fully shares my infatuation with old houses...he's close but I caught him salivating over new construction lately.  I am not sure if this house might just push him over the edge.  I am not sure if I can explain it myself, either you get it or you don't, kind of like a virus I guess...  Just a part of who you are and you can't really change that.