I've mentioned a couple of times how everything in our new house was broken when we moved in. I'm not sure, however, that I've really managed to convey exactly what I mean by everything.
I mean, literally, everything.
EVERYTHING.
And to show you that I really do mean everything, I offer herein a
partial list of all the things that WERE broken, and we've already fixed. Notice that I don't include the things we haven't got around to fixing or just throwing out yet (okay, I might bring up a few); this is only stuff that we discovered was broken and that we've actually managed to do something about. Oh, and keep in mind that I'm probably forgetting a few things, too...
(Oh, and I know I said I'd write about those mysterious vents on the roof, but I neglected to take any pictures when I was in the attic dealing with those vents, so I'll postpone that little tale for now. Have no fear, though: I have to go back up into the attic to fix something and I'll try to remember to take photos this time.)
The Roof
Well, obviously. It was by far the single greatest expense we've ever signed away, but that whole project has been pretty well covered already.
The Kitchen Tap
Beyond being a terrible design choice for the sink (we had pots that wouldn't fit under it when put into the sink, and would have to be filled sideways, and even though it had a little directional nozzle on the end, the tap was still so low that you couldn't even aim the water up the sides of the basin at all), the tap would also shoot water all over the back of the counter whenever you pushed on the faucet - like, for instance, to move it from one side of the sink to the other. We replaced all the gaskets inside the faucet the day after we moved in, and have since replaced it entirely with a much nicer tap, but that does bring us to the next point on our tour...
The Water Filter
While replacing the broken kitchen tap, I removed a rather large, blue, beat-up water filter from beneath the kitchen sink. The lines to and from the cold water supply were cracked and pretty much just in the way, so I took the whole thing out. For curiosity's sake, I opened the thing up, and confirmed that the filter probably hadn't been replaced in YEARS - the whole inside of the container was coated in scale, and the filter itself was completely brown.
Of course, the corollary to this story is that there is still some scale or something in the lines, and the fancy new kitchen faucet we bought keeps getting clogged up and slowing to a trickle. Which means I have to reinstall the water filter - a process that has already required three separate trips to Home Depot or Rona, and I still haven't found the right parts yet. I COULD get it working, but not without an extra three or four feet of water line for the water to sit and stagnate in, or a hideous kludge of pieces stuck hopefully together on one end of the line.
The Front Door
I've probably mentioned that the front door is the only non-glass door in the house that had been painted (and not just left as builder's primer), but I don't know that I've mentioned that it was broken in other ways. The latch on the handle wouldn't catch properly, meaning that if we wanted the door to stay closed, we would have to lock the deadbolt each and every time. I fiddled with the latch and the strike plate a few times and managed to get it to work with varying degrees of success for short intervals, but changes in temperature or just using it all the time would quickly make it stop latching again.
This grew wearying rather quickly, as we'd have to take our keys with us every time we went outside, even if it was just to coil up the hose or bring the recycling bins in, or else the cats would start sidling towards the open door like it was some kind of feline gravity well of danger and irresistible curiosity.
Well, given that we wanted to paint it anyway, and the weather stripping around it was cracked and ... well, broken, we finally figured out a weekend where we weren't planning on going out anywhere and took the door off its hinges so we could sand and paint it.
Fortunately, the front door came equipped with one of those fancy screens that rolls up beside the door when not in use - kind of like a sideways roll-up blind. Unfortunately, of course, it was broken (the screen was ripped along the top and bottom edges), but we figured it would at least keep the cats in while we worked on the door.
Given the excellent weather, I set up a painting station outside in the driveway, and proceeded to dismantle the door hardware. I got the old handleset and deadbolt off just fine, but when I went to remove the sweep on the bottom, I found a new and exciting reason to curse Frank's name:
I have no idea what he cut that with. It's like he had a spastic grizzly bear hold the door steady while he took a running start at it with a circular saw. The stupid bear must have kept flinching or something, because I don't think I've seen a more ragged cut in my life. I cleaned it up as best I could, and the new sweep at the bottom managed to hide it okay (barely), but I still know it's there, and it haunts me.
The door does look good now, though:
Well, okay, we still haven't painted the outside, but the new handle set is awesome, the new weather stripping has stopped the drafts, and the door at least closes properly now, without needing the deadbolt.
The Upstairs Toilet
Oh yes. Don't think I've forgotten about you, you evil piece of shit. This isn't over between us.
The Upstairs Bathtub
The drain plug in the upstairs bathtub didn't work. No matter how we jiggled, pulled, twisted, or swore at it, the drain would not seal properly. I wound up just removing the mechanism and buying a rubber plug.
The Master Bath Toilet
It's certainly not to the degree of difficulty of the other toilet, but I've already made a couple of minor fixes and repairs to the toilet in the Saddam Hussein bathroom.
The Master Bath Bathtub
Can't remember if I've mentioned this, but there's a tiny hole in the side of the tub - below where the waterline would be if one was to actually attempt to take a bath in the ridiculously shallow tub. The War Department has attempted to patch it, but the goop didn't seem to dry very well and we're not sure if it's going to hold. We'll probably just wind up not using it until we get around to renovating that whole bathroom.
The Downstairs Toilet
One of the things the home inspector pointed out to us was the fact that the downstairs toilet was leaking around the wax ring, and underneath the linoleum. We've ... well, sort of fixed it. If you count ripping everything out of the room so we can redo the entire thing.
We'll get to that eventually. Hopefully. Maybe?
The Wood-burning Stove
Actually, it's not that the stove was broken, per se, it's just that it wasn't anywhere near up to code, had never been used for anything except burning paper, and didn't sit quite level in the fireplace. So.. not really broken, I suppose, but given that it still required fixing, I think it deserves inclusion on this list. Especially given that it cost us an arm and a leg to get it working.
The Washing Machine
The first time the War Department went to put laundry in the dryer, I had to vacuum it out first because it was all full of various bits of debris. We got the clothes into the dryer and started a new load in the washing machine... which promptly started SMOKING.
We said screw it, and just bought a new set:
These Things
Frank had an entire garden full of Noma Moon Rays (or cheap knock-offs) and not one of them worked properly. A few of them would occasionally give off sort of a feeble, sickly glow, making the garden look like it was infested with radioactive fungus but most of them were full of water, broken, or both. Oh, and the wheelbarrow they're sitting in? That was broken, too.
The Garden Shed
One of the doors to the cheap-ass tin garden shed came off in my hand the second time I opened it. It took close to three hours to dismantle the doors, clean out all the debris from the tracks, replace the plastic bits that keep the doors in their tracks, and reinstall the doors.
The Window Screens
Actually, most of the screens were in pretty good shape - they just needed to be taken out and washed off - but all of the little plastic clips that keep the screens in place? Replaced. Every single one. Granted, pretty much every window was missing at least one clip, or had some form of garbage wedged into the window as a stand in, but each screen still had to get four brand new ones.
The Door Handles
Oh, man, I could write an entire post just on the damn handles for the sliding glass doors off the sunroom. Let me sum it up this way: there are three sets of doors, three different types of handle (with three different sizes and spacings of holes), and despite several trips to Home Despot, we STILL need a screwdriver to lock and unlock one of them. Oh, and when we moved in, the handle of the one between the sunroom and the living room was broken right in half - and fixed with several yards of duct tape.
The Sunroom Trim and Shade
Speaking of the sunroom, there was a sort of shade canopy thing rolled up in a corner of the sunroom when we moved in. When it started getting hot during the day, we noticed that the sunroom got pretty damn warm, and so we pulled out the shade thing to try and mitigate some of the heat. Well, the canopy was, of course, in tatters and evidence of former repairs was pretty plain, given the bits of duct tape stuck to various random bits. We also noticed that the trim to which the canopy was supposed to attach was loose and in dire peril of falling on anyone bold enough to actually try sitting in there.
So thanks to my mom and her trusty sewing machine, we got a new shade made up, and I devised a system of brackets that wouldn't put any additional weight on the trim (which we reattached using screws instead of just glue and the odd finishing nail). It's still pretty damn warm in there during the day, but with the doors on each side open for a cross-breeze, it's very comfortable. And, if I may say so, very stylish indeed:
The Outdoor Faucets
When we moved in, the faucet out front was wrapped in wet burlap (the faucet was leaking), the one in the back had been shut off completely (the faucet was leaking), and this thing on the side of the house...
...was leaking.
They're all fixed now, and yes, we kept the quail faucet. We weren't going to, but then we noticed that a) the faucet is actually well-made, solid brass, and in good shape, and b) we have a family of quails in the neighbourhood. They're really very cute.
Everything Else
Here's a sub-partial list of broken stuff that we're mostly still working on:
- Baseboard heaters: they will all need to be replaced eventually - we've already done about half of them.
- Light switches and wall sockets: again, we've already replaced half of them, but apart from a couple of overloaded circuits, the electrical in the house isn't TOO bad. The outside stuff, of course, is a different story.
- Range hood fan: not broken so much as just blocked with an enormous old chunk of wasp nest.
- Hand rail on the stairs: I "fixed" it by wrapping part of it in painters tape. Ta-da! No more goddamn splinters. Looks like hell, of course, but it'll have to do for now.
- Window seals: the seals on the windows of the sunroom roof and the two windows in the dining room are toast, leading to condensation inside the glass. Nothing we can do but replace them, but we have to recover from the sticker shock of the roof first.
- The faucet in the upstairs bath: not content with having the toilet borked, the shower head needing to be replaced (twice), and the plug not work in the tub, the taps on the sink faucet are also broken. There's a small cap on each of the taps that covers a little hollow. Inside the hollow is the screw that holds the tap handle and cartridge together. Both of the caps are broken and won't stay on the handle, meaning that water can get down to the screw head and rust it out. Great.
- The side gate: the fence was built way too close the tree, and the roots have heaved up one of the panels, making the entire section useless - and pushing the end post closer to the house so the gate no longer closes properly. Yay for deer eating all the plants! Not!
- The garage door opener: seriously - the damn thing is dialed all the way back, and it STILL manages to slam the garage door closed.
Well, that's certainly not an exhaustive list, but I think you get the picture. Next time, I'll either finish the ongoing saga of the bedroom floor, or finally get around to explaining the mysterious vents.
Or, you know, I might just have a whole post dedicated to This Week in Mayonnaise. Who knows?
