Keeping it real

So, we have this old farmhouse.

Atop this beautiful hill.

And we get to start the next chapter of our lives here.

We really are living the dream.

But this post is the rest of the story.  Just keepin’ it real.

While we are beyond happy to be here, there are some modern day conveniences that are definitely absent.  No one had lived in the farmhouse on a regular basis since the early 60s.  That’s a long time of no updating or no fresh paint. No open windows or fresh air. No ventilation or ductwork. No updated plumbing (you find Jesus every time you flush the toilet…please Lord, let it go down).

I am not complaining. There is no place I’d rather be. Our DRF will be beautiful someday, inside and out.  But the reality is I have to remind myself of that on a somewhat regular basis.

My awesome, adored mother-in-law Mimi Donna, who is known for her loving, candid approach, asked me, “How is it, living in squalor?”

Pause.  Did she say squalor?

Dirt. Filth. Grime. Muck. Neglect. Decay.

Yep, she called it like she saw it.

Here is what the rag looks like after ONE swipe of the kitchen wall. Think of decades of a woodburning stove. Think mustiness and black mold. Think stagnant air and windows that are painted shut.

Or what the back door jam looks like. I think that is actual horsehair weather stripping.  It neighs when you slam the door too hard. (And that gummy looking yellow stuff?  Layers and layers of slathered on paint. Delicious, right?)

This is my first time living in a house that requires the regular sweeping up of peeling paint. (Look closely too at the base of the chimney, there’s some of that silly mold, already sprouted back up again.)

Here’s a look at the plaster walls after removing the wallpaper. It’s a good thing there is no smell-a-vision on this picture.  It smells faintly (or not so faintly, depending on the humidity) of urine and I have zero desire to find out who’s urine it smells like. Blech. 

Here’s a photo to commemorate our bathroom. I am afraid to try and clean the black “caulk” that resembles bloated leeches. (I have however developed a fondness for my sheet curtains. Super easy.)

And do you know what is really crazy?  

While the mold and squalor sometimes grosses me out, I still feel like the luckiest 49 year old girl in the world.

Just look at these beautiful old floors. Head over heels in love with them.

Afterall, a little musty air never hurt anyone, right?

#soblessed

#ourdirtroadfarmrocks

#hotmessjustlikeme

xoxo