So, we moved into my recently deceased grandmother's house in September. It's an old house, built in the days when they used plaster instead of drywall. Actually, one of the guys who built it lives next door; he's my grandma's 95-ish-year-old BIL. This house is old, is in desperate need of improvements and upgrades.
My uncle owns this house now. We were looking forward to buying it come this September for $30,000. But the Ancestors, my grandma included, kept telling me that the house was no good. That confused me. I was glad to stay here due to Ancestral energies and the history that this house has. I wanted to continue that history, at least for a few more years. Until we paid off the mortgage and got our credit going better, better enough to purchase a house out in the country. But the longer we stay here, the more and more I understand Their message.
For my birthday, I wanted to get a new back door installed. Okay. Should be as easy as measuring it, then going to the hardware store, right? Nope. The measurements don't fit any of the modern doors, not even the door jams (we re-measured). And to have something custom made would cost 4 times as much.
Okay, so how about making the changes ourselves--technical terms that I don't know, but hubby and his friend do. Nope! This house is literally composed of cement, plaster, old ass wood, and nails. So no new door for me. Although I did get the door knobs and all that jazz already, before I knew about the problems. And I'm keeping them, too, damn it. Who knows? We may get a back door that doesn't have any stupid windows that make it extremely easy for people to break into. Like seriously? What's the point of having locks on the door, if there's a window, right above the handle? Who? How? No. It's stupid. Stupid decorative nonsense. Not at all safe.
Okay, well, what about the front door. It also needs to be replaced. NOPE! It's far too wide and once again doesn't fit any modern doors.
WTF? Who? How? Why?
Okay, okay. Next problem: Black mold. Our wall in our bedroom started growing some of this nasty stuff this winter. I treated the wall and everything else. Should be as easy as cutting out the drywall, diagnosing the problem, and replacing. NOPE. It's not drywall, it's freaking plaster. A lot more work and money.
This house. There is no quick fix. Things that should only take a couple steps and some money, end up taking 100 more steps and loads more money.
The Ancestors were right, this house isn't worth it.
I don't want to go back to apartment life. I really don't. But if it means another year in an apartment to get our credit up to an acceptable level in order to find that house in the country, I'll do it. This house is a headache. It is a hot mess. They've been telling me and I've been confused but trying to make it work. I'm still trying. Still making this hot mess our home, until we're able to afford something better, hopefully something up-to-date, so that when I want a new door, I can go down to Home Depot and get a new door like that. Or if I want to put a tack in my wall, I can. Damn plaster. No wonder it's so cold in here in the winter.
It might be cheaper just to tear this house down and rebuild.