My house was built by crackheads... I know this because there is not a 90 degree angle anywhere to be found in my house. I know this because there are nice gaps between the walls and the floors. I know this because the windows were not centered on walls but nicely placed behind door, right in the not 90 degree corners... And last but not least, I know this because none of the exterior walls had insulation... And please don't get me started on the wiring.
I bring this up because I have lived in this house for eight long years. I have lived in sweltering 90 plus degrees in the house in the summer because of no a.c. and because of subarctic temps (and here I exaggerate only slightly) during the winter. For seven years I lived here with my ex and, at times, as many as four kids. My house is a nice 900-1000 square feet and that may be stretching it. Work was done before we moved in to make it livable, and then later as we could afford it. After a while it became too much to work on and live in for the ex, so nothing else was done.
I love my house. I love it. I hate it. I love it. It is like a relative that you tolerate because they are family and you have to put up with them and pretend to enjoy their company. After all, you only see them once a year, right? Well my house is sort of like that. I love it because, face it, where else am I going to live for this cheap? I hate it because for everything that gets fixed, another problem comes up. But in the spirit of my new found freedom and well, because otherwise I would be living in a lean-to, I am attacking my home repairs with gusto... No know-how, other than what I learned at the knees of my grandma and my ex but with plenty of Lumbee enthusiasm.
I have a dream, nay, I have a goal... I will have my house done by this time next year. I will, weekly, do something to work on my house. As it relates to my home, I will be the little engine that could. I will persevere. I will.... you get the picture.
