This is the kitchen we inherited with this house.
All in all, it was functional, and really worked well for large parties. But it's obvious that this plan was executed during the Nixon administration. Just stick a disco ball in the dining room and all would be well.
Seriously. Slap the ball in place of the pressed-tin chandelier, throw on a pair of paisley bell-bottom pants, grab your biggest gold-hoop earrings, and put some Donna Summer on the hi-fi. Party!
And what's up with this floor?
This is indoor/outdoor carpeting ... glued down to the concrete foundation ... in an area where food regularly splattered for decades. "Cringe" is not a strong enough word to describe my reaction when I first set foot on it. The only redeeming quality of this carpet is that it once won us $2,000 worth of wood laminate flooring in an "ugliest flooring" contest. As the judge announced when he revealed the grand prize winners (us), "Someone, at some point, chose to put this carpet on their floor, and thought it was a good idea." And so it stayed, from 1969 until 2009, when the stars in the cosmos finally aligned and we were able to put our time and money into changing our lives -- and our kitchen -- for the better.
We're no strangers to remodeling. That was the plan when we bought this place, and we've actually been able to do a little improvement here and there.
We took this ...
... and turned it into this.
But the other projects we did were nothing compared to the idea of doing an entire kitchen remodel. We'd start batting around ideas, and check the bank account, and think about how we might be able to swing it. But sometimes things happen along the way ... happy things, planned things, but things that put off those other things nonetheless.
First this happened ...
...and then this happened.
So we abandoned the kitchen remodel project, focusing our energies on our two little girls and improving other, less-expensive areas of the house for their benefit. New bedroom for the big sister, cosmetically-updated bathroom for them both, wood laminate floor in the living room, courtesy of some very familiar blue checkerboard.
And then the housing market skyrocketed and crashed back to earth. That whole cosmos thing I mentioned earlier ... that was it. First, property values in our area swelled beyond belief. Then, the market bottomed out, the economy tanked, and suddenly banks were begging the public to borrow something, anything, to keep them looking good on paper. Interest rates dropped to unbelievable levels. Rob and I were done having children, so our income potential was unlikely to ever be interrupted again by an extended maternity leave. Our property value went up far beyond what I ever thought it could.
A note here ... Rob and I own a unique piece of property which is partially (although never completely) immune to schizophrenic fluctuations in the real estate market. Along with our Studio 54-ready house, we own 7.5 acres of riverfront property. Historically, waterfront property is more stable in relation to market issues than, say, a cookie-cutter condo next to the mall. Waterfront is generally always highly desirable.
In addition to owning unique property, our area experienced all the positives that were the "norm" in the real estate boom. In the 8+ years we've lived here, we've seen the 200-acre hayfield next door turn into a luxury subdivision with 10-acre lots and minimum 1500-square-foot site-built homes. This bit us in the pocketbook as far as property taxes, but it greatly increased the value of our property overall. And, as several people have told me, they're not manufacturing more natural riverfront. There will always be a set number of waterfront lots in any area, which increases and stabilizes their value.
Finally, everything aligned. We had decent, stable income. Our appraised value quadrupled in less than a decade. We secured a 4.75% fixed-rate mortgage, borrowed against our beautiful equity, and started to dream.
I'm sharing the dream here. I hope you enjoy it.
No comments:
Post a Comment