[mini-trad mysteries] Pantry, Service Porch; Can YOU help?

When it came time to buy our house, I had—like most shoppers—a very keen idea of exactly what I wanted.  

• Three + bedrooms
• One + bathrooms
• Built before 1950
• Ideally! built between 1890 and 1940
• With as many original, historic details intact as possible

We found that house, too.  But it wasn’t meant to be.

Instead of my dream house, we found a home that I’ve fallen in love with despite its faults.  It has the curb appeal of a shipping container, but has some really cute little details throughout.  (Including original tile in the kitchen and the bath!)

We mopped AFTERWARDS, oops

But our strange little mini-trad also has some odd mysteries about it.  

In our kitchen is a pink and beige/off-white linoleum flooring that is not original to the house.  The house was built in 1948 and based on some snooping I did, I found evidence that the original flooring is still there under the new-ish linoleum.

In our service porch is a recessed space that we use (and the previous owners used) as a pantry.  In the floor of this pantry are two small holes up against the east wall.  Gutting from the north wall is a strip where there is no linoleum and no original flooring, but it doesn’t open up to the crawl space.  Obviously, something was there when both the original flooring and the “updated” linoleum was installed.  But what?  A washer?  A sink?  

Note the shelf supports

When looking into this recessed space, it quickly becomes clear that it was updated to be a pantry.  The shelving is unsophisticated.  Wooden boards supported by slats of wood nailed to the west and east walls.  I suspect that the “pantry” shelving was installed before the linoleum was installed, but I cannot be clear.  If it was, then whatever left its “footprint” in the floor would have likely co-existed with the shelves.  Therefore, said appliance would have to have been on the short side as the lowest shelf is only about a foot and half off the floor.  And that doesn’t make sense.

I have no clear indication when the linoleum was installed, and no clear idea when the “pantry” was converted.  But it all does leave me scratching my head, that’s for sure!

For a bit of extra mystery... Notice how in this last photo the linoleum was installed either after the water heater was replaced/added, or that the heater was lifted to install the flooring.  Weird.

Haus: Dilemmas of the MiniTrad Owner

I cannot help it.  I've been thinking a LOT about paint.

Haus, Sweet Haus

When we were in the market for our new haus, I had very definite ideas about the exact sort of haus that I wanted.  It would be old (built before 1940) and it would have a lot of charm.  Instead, we bought a house built in 1948 and with the curb appeal of a plain box.  *sigh*

(Why did we buy it, then?  The neighborhood, mostly.  But the interior features several darling details and original elements that we just adored.)

Since buying the haus, I've learned a lot more about post-war architecture.  For a start, our home is transitional, but mostly Minimal Traditional in style.  Minimal Traditional, or MiniTrad, homes were pretty much exactly what it sounds like: usually single-story homes built with very minimal details, and traditional elements.  They were often small and square, wasting almost no space on hallways.  Effective, efficient, affordable housing for our returning soldiers and their families, basically.  Our home feels a touch more transitional, though, in that its footprint is longer than most, has a large kitchen and service porch, and has a very long hallway from front to back.

Most MiniTrad homes are rather plain building on the outside.  Ours, being almost all stucco, is double drab in that it's currently painted the color of sand.  And did you spy that uninspired white accent color on white trim?  Yeah, yawn....

If there is one good thing about having a home that was built in the late 40s, it's that color was starting to be all the rage in homes.  The color palette was moving away from the earthy tones that dominate the Arts and Crafts movement, choosing instead vibrant, almost painful colors.  Folks were using color to brighten their lives and to forget about the austere war years.  Yellow was very popular in interiors.  Bright blues, and even jade, started to appear on exteriors.  The homes were small enough, that such bright colors didn't look garish.

My efforts to find a suitably historic palette have not, alas, turned up a plethora of available paint.  But I did find out that Sherwin Williams does market and offer a Historic Collection.  Worse still, they have a wonky, but addicting color visualizer tool.  (Wonky in that all attempts to save images after "painted" have thus far failed, or produced buggy images.)

Still, can you imagine how much more fun my haus would look painted gold with avocado trim?  Or jade with bright blue door?

Alas, I think we will have to wait a bit.  While the wood trim is liable to need some touch-ups soon, our  financial priorities have limited our ability to purchase paint for the stucco.  Any ideas on how to brighten up our home with just a new color trim?

homeownership

It's been about two weeks since we closed escrow and, to be expected, we are in full-blown homeowner mode.  We've made the obligatory repeat trips to the hardware store.  We've discussed the merits of copper plumbing with others.  We've googled numerous DIY and "how to" pages on everything from dishwasher troubleshooting, to pocket-door repair.  Yeah.

It's been about two weeks since we closed escrow and we still have numerous boxes to sort through and unpack.  As we knew that our last place was only going to be transitionary (five years of transition, apparently), we stored several boxes of items that we figured we may want whenever we did get into a home.  So, here we are--with five years worth of a stored "stuff."

It's been about two weeks since we closed escrow and we've already purchased more furniture.  I've found myself doing daily searches on Craigslist for items that would be just right for our late Art Deco/early Mid-century home.  I could not pass up a beautiful secretary/cabinet.  Plus a friend was needing to offload an antique couch that is a great color for our green living room.  Now, if only I could figure out just how to arrange everything in there...

You're seeing a pattern, right?  (Any inexpensive project-organizing software suggestions?)


Some major advantages to rejoining the ranks of the house dwellers include establishing a regular laundry schedule.  (No more fighting for an open washer.)  I have also been thoroughly happy in my larger kitchen complete with deep vintage sinks that are great for hand-washing dishes.  (Yeah, remember the part where I mentioned dishwasher troubleshooting?  We're stuck hand-washing until we fix our dishwasher.)

Probably the best part of our new adventure is to see just how happy the baby is playing in his backyard.  I'm a firm believer that children should be able to scratch around in dirt, get grass stains, and enjoy plenty of fresh air.  Declan loves being outside.  I am definitely looking forward to when we get our victory garden going and he can dig and plant alongside mom and dad.

In the meantime, I'm going to try to wrap my head around all the little things around here that I can accomplish.  Goodness knows there is plenty to do!

Home Sweet Home

The secretary

Opened

I love this little detail in the kitchen.  Wooden valance?

We have a few archways like this one into the dining room.

Looking into the dining area from the living room.

Looking into the kitchen from the service porch.

Hallway

Declan helps his dad with some yard work.

Escrow stress

Well, we may have hit a snag. Not that such a thing is unusual for escrow.

Like any smart buyer, we paid out of pocket for a comprehensive home inspection. During the inspection, a number of items were called out as potential hazards. Again, nothing unusual for escrow.

We requested some, but not all, of the safety repairs after we had an electrician come out and estimate the cost of such repairs. In addition, we asked to see a termite report on the property. When our agent noticed that the report failed to call out an area of the property that had suffered some water damage, and therefore possible termite damage, the seller's agent told the termite inspection to disregard the information regarding the water damage. He, the selling agent, even went so far as to tell the termite inspector not to revise the report. In so doing, the selling agent was suggesting FHA fraud. Our agent pointed that out to him and he has since agreed to have the termite report updated.

But that isn't the snag. Well, not all of all it, at least.

The sellers have countered our repair request with some of the most ambiguous language possible. We suspect that this, too, is the work of their agent.

We have decided that the best course of action at this point is to send a cover letter asking for specific language, pointing out our insistence that the property be verified as safe and that necessary repairs either be made, or that money be returned to us. Our agent is going to point out his failure to disclose required information in the MLS for the property, too. In short, we are letting the agent know that we will not be so eager as to ignore the problems with the house.

Both our agent and myself do believe that the sellers are amenable and fair. But we also suspect that as their agent sold them the house, he may be attempting to cover the fact that he had sold them a house that was less safe than they thought.

I do not want to lose this house, but I also do NOT want to pay top dollar for an unsafe property that needs repairs and upgrades. I am keeping my fingers and toes crossed that their agent will get his act together, that the sellers will agree to our requests (or something similar), and that we will get back on track.

Cross your fingers for us, too, okay?