Boothwyn House Fails Inspection And Painterjayne Is Crushed
The house in Boothwyn turned out badly; the inspector and our builder--KeeKay--went through it carefully with Harry, me, our children, and Mary, our RE adviser. Bad news. We had missed a whole section of the basement that was dirt covered with big plastic sheets and on the upper wall, a big window open to the outside. There were all kinds of drains--new and old--with one not working, inside and outside. We realized the reason the builder had put this ugly raised black driveway was for his trucks so they wouldn't have to walk through the river that would have been our back yard. In addition, there were termites and the roof is sinking in one area. The inspector was somewhat terrible; when KeeKay found problems, he insisted on ignoring them, but he did recognize, I think the very messed up basement.
Our children didn't like the house; Honey especially noticed the cheap materials that were used. She kept saying it looked like a Holiday Inn. Everything had problems and really, everything was cheaply done. It wasn't worth $240,000, not even $200000. We noticed driving around a little more that some of the other houses looked run down too. What an experience! I've been depressed since then, although I'm grateful I somehow didn't have to buy the house. Now I can get out; it really would have been a money pit.
I loved the size of that house and the beautiful fireplaces that actually had problems too. Oh, well.
Tomorrow we'll pack for Boston; Brian is driving and we leave Monday, returning Friday. I hope my depression wears off. I'm trying to buy myself shoes on Ebay as some kind of present. I've been painting, even with my fingers when I don't have time to wash brushes. I love my enthusiasm; I'm kind of astonished but I'm very grateful.
I don't know when last I wrote; we went to New York, got lost as though we were walking in LA and had never been there. But Spam-a-lot was wonderful. The hotel was adorable even though the bed had to be tiny to fit into the room. Avenue Q didn't really appeal to us and we screwed up on the food. The little old French ladies sold their restaurant to folks who couldn't quite cook and Tocqueville sucked even though it was recommended everywhere and was inordinately expensive. Of course, I think LeBecFin sucks too. I don't like truly weird stuff like salmon bellies or lambs testicles.
I don't know what else is in my life now. Probably stuff that is tremendously important and right in front of my nose, but I can't see it at this minute. So it's time to get ready for bed. Good night world.