Quote of the Day
We bought our wreck 21 years ago and all our worst fears (which you enumerate succinctly) came true. We are hostages, no, slaves, to this energy-devouring century-old heap, which delights in torturing us from its devious old mechanical heart to its leprous, flaking exterior. It has sucked every penny of disposable income from our combined…
We bought our wreck 21 years ago and all our worst fears (which you enumerate succinctly) came true. We are hostages, no, slaves, to this energy-devouring century-old heap, which delights in torturing us from its devious old mechanical heart to its leprous, flaking exterior. It has sucked every penny of disposable income from our combined labors while continuing to deteriorate before our eyes. We have made every imaginable mistake in attempting to “renovate” it, mistakes from which we seldom learn anything, because the next mistake arises from a totally different and unprecedented sort of calamity. Our so-called “investment” has kept us house-poor and chronically overwhelmed for what we laughingly call the “prime” of our lives. And unless someone gives us, oh, say, half a million dollars, it will never get any better. Needless to say, we love this pile of wretched wood and pipes with a passion so tender that to gaze upon it sometimes brings tears to our eyes, at least until a piece of woodwork or roofing falls off in plain sight.
— by Brenda from Flatbush (whose 2009 Prospect Park calendar is now available here) in First Time Homeowner Anxiety
Architerrorist, if you didn’t spend so much time enviously licking the exterior of our “collapsing” house, you would not be ingesting our flaking lead paint. And don’t make like it’s not you we see out there at night.
Actually, our house is a spectacular example of, not just good bones, but completely renovated mechanicals as well; it is astonishingly sound and square for a Victorian frame, and we simply ran out of money before we got to the exterior cosmetics. On a 3,000-square-foot frame, unless you go the siding route, you either (a) go way too deep into debt, or (b) sit patiently and wait for your ship to come in, or (c) rob a bank. We have chosen (b), despite the urgings of a young mortgage-brokering whippersnapper that we could have plundered our equity even further. Now we are very glad we chose restraint, as our house, bought for a preposterous $155K, settles like a souffle from its “million-dollar” high.
There are many downsides to living in a crappy-looking house you can’t yet afford to finish, like poisoning Architerrorist’s tender bloodstream with our microparticulated lead paint, or having to drool over Brownstoner forum posts about dazzling six-figure renovations, or (as Hyacinth Bucket would say) “bringing down the tone.” But I have chosen, in life and through my online journal, to keep my sanity by focusing on the sweet as well as the bitter–on the paradox that the crappiest-looking house on the block can be that powerful and redemptive thing called home. Our neighbors have been a key part of that message; since we live just outside the posh landmark district, we have been blessed to live among other hard-working homeowning folks in struggle, who have never uttered a negative word in our earshot in 21 years. When we apologize for it, they typically say things like, “That’s a great house, a great house. But it takes *time.*” We may yet get our exterior paint job, and Architerrorist can be spared that delicate shudder when passing our homestead. But I like to think that the house will know that we loved it through the long years of its decrepitude as well, which is, after all, how all of us wish to be loved.
architerrorist- to each his own. Its nice you have that kind of money. She doesn’t-it certainly wasn’t neighborly of you to post what you did. You’re obviously not privy to her finances or personal situation (neither am I), but commenting like you did on brownstoner is pretty mean spirited.
No- I rent from a very close friend who does own a Victorian townhouse, so I do see what it takes first hand. Not everyone has the money to do more than basic upkeep but buying the house was certainly and especially in the long run a really good financial move. I don’t believe only people who can afford to restore their homes immediately and according to the neighbor’s aesthetic standards are the only ones who should be allowed to own.
Most of the homes in Victorian Flatbush were remuddled in the 70’s and early 80’s. Having been in many of the recently renovated homes in the area on the house tour, I have only seen one that was a modernized and it had no original details left to preserve anyway. Most of the more recent homeowners have taken the care to restore their homes to their original grandeur. As a resident who has been here for a while, the renovations of my newer neighbors inspired me to do something about my house, which I purchased for under 200K and now is mortgage free. If they spent a million dollars to buy and renovate, I figured I could give up a couple of bucks to do something about mine.
I enjoy Brenda’s blog about her house and her posts here on Brownstoner. If I remember correctly her house, according to her own blog it was used as an abandoned or haunted house in an episode of Law & Order. That would be indicative of the condition of that house. I would never have put that out there if she didn’t have it on her blog.
bxgrl –
There are plenty of homeowners in VF, including myself, have spent a tidy sum on period restoration coupled with modernization where needed. Many of these homes were renovated in the 70s and I assure you, few original kitchens remain.
Brenda has been in her house 20 years plus. She has done virtually nothing to the exterior, which is practically collapsing. Judging from her frequent posts (and blog), she seems more in love with being house poor than with her actual house.
As far as I can tell, Brenda is indeed “preserving” her home at very small cost to herself. Which would not irk me quite so much if she wasn’t constantly advertising the fact.
Do you own a Victorian home, bxgrl?
I think the flaking exterior paint is probably the least of your neighborhood health hazards, architerrorist. these old houses are a labor of love- people like brenda are the ones to so the most to preserve them and their details, at no small cost to themselves.
It kills me when those “who can afford it” buy one of these beautiful old places in need of TLC, and gut them, then modernize them to the point of destruction. Why buy an old house, only to rip out the gorgeous, needs stripping butler’s pantry to put in your new faux copper farmhouse sink and cabinet?
give me neighbors like brenda any day. It may take her more time to fix up her house, but I bet she’s a greater asset to your neighborhood than you realize.
This is not just an aesthetic argument – flaking exterior lead paint presents a health hazard to the entire neighborhood.
I love Brenda’s prose as well, but as a former VF neighbor, I have to say, her house looks like it’s falling down and is hardly an asset to the neighborhood, despite the great bones and lack of siding.
Brenda may well love her house, but maybe she should ask herself if she can really afford it. All her posts seem to wax eloquently about her abject poverty, courtesy of her Victorian noose.
Thanks for the reading recommendation, Benson, but I’m doing okay, except for the money deducted from my paycheck and handed over to a 401K plan by my employer.
I think my message was that insofar as 20th-century history goes, in the long term, real estate has been an okay investment. But in 1980, we didn’t think of real estate as an “investment” and we didn’t even pay attention to what “the market” was doing until we went to sell, because the house was, first and foremost, our home.
I still come to this site mainly because I really do love old houses and the process of renovation. I find it rewarding to take an old wreck and restore it to its former beauty. And I love making a “home” in these places, for myself, family and friends. I won’t deny that I benefited from the run-up of the last ten years, but that was never my primary goal.
Well the moral of the story
The moral of this song
Is simply that one should never be
Where one does not belong.
So when you see your neighbor carryin’ somethin’
Help him with his load,
And don’t go mistaking Paradise
For that home across the road……..
The Ballad of Frankie Lee and Judas Priest