It Got a Lot Worse Before It Got Better

To fast foward somewhat, I submitted a sealed bid, which the church accepted. Now I had to find financing and a house mover. Lending institutions take a dim view of doing a mortgage on something that's going to be cut up into pieces. In fact, the way things are now, I doubt I would have even been able to get a loan. My bank said no, the credit union laughed, but a local savings and loan finally agreed to do it. However, they had one requirement; I had to insure it with Lloyds of London as a piece of cargo.

Finding a house mover proved harder even than the financing. Now there are house moving shows on TV. That would have been helpful. I'd been happy if I had been able to find a "House Moving For Dummies" book. No such luck. This was a "learn by doing" project. I interviewed 6 movers and chose one. We had the driest December on record that year, but by the time they started getting ready to move it we were into January and it was anything but dry. I'm sure in some parts of the country a house could not even be moved in the winter, but in Texas we can either have really good weather or really bad weather. I'm sure I don't have to say which one we had.

Here's what happens when you cut a house in half with a chainsaw...

The first half is leaving in this photo. There's a curious issue that has remained constant throughout my entire life (I think it's a variation of Murphy's Law). I have never ever done anything with a house that it hasn't rained. This day was no different...and it only got worse.

All day long as the crew worked to move the house, the temperature rose and the rain got heavier. Two days later, the bottom fell out. A flood and a house without a roof do not make a good combination. I came home that night to find my sister and the house mover making troughs out of plastic sheeting and pieces of lumber to channel the water that was pouring from the ceilings out through the holes in the floor where the floor vents had been.

By February the house was back together and roof was in progress...right up until the Ice Storm of the Century came in. This time around we had icicles hanging out of the antique ceiling fans and ice running down the inside walls. Our makeshift water channeling system with plastic and boards came back out to keep the floors from buckling. Well, at least I had an excuse to pull the carpet up and see what was under it...heart pine floors...without a single knot. You won't find new wood like that.

I will say...I've never been so happy to see anything as I was to see an actual roof on this house...and that Lloyd's of London insurance sure did come in handy.

So What Happened Next?

After declaring to Jody Michelle (all our four legged family members have double names...makes it easier to call them and really mean it...just like my mother did when I was a child and she used my WHOLE name) that my house was for sale, I called the number in the ad and was able to see it that afternoon. So what did it look like when I first saw it? This is at least a somewhat better picture of the outside than the one in the ad.

Remember that it was being used for Sunday School classrooms with an occasional wedding reception thrown in. Here is the hall looking toward the back porch. The 12 ft ceilings and original ceiling fans sealed the deal. I was hooked.

This is the living room; pocket doors between the living and dining room...french doors into the hall. Yep, this is THE house. Hmmm...wonder what's under that almost new carpet? The wheels started turning...

Beginning a Blog

Where do you start a blog that's been 18 years in the making? That's my dilemma. Blogging wasn't around when I started my old house adventure in 1993, but that glorious invention, the internet, was becoming quite popular and there were at least message boards to post to. In fact, for several years I had a virtual OHSG (Old House Support Group) at the This Old House message board. I think about them every so often and wonder what ever happened to the regulars.

I'm not going to make any promises about how often I'll post, but then that would be assuming someone would be interested in following! Anyone with an old house (or any house for that matter) knows time is in short supply, so choosing to add another time consuming activity to my To Do List is causing me to question my sanity. Ok, I do question my sanity on a fairly regular basis...and when I had this house moved in the winter of 1994 a lot of other people questioned my sanity too. Well, all I can say is that sanity can be overrated.

I've been following several blogs for a while now and it's looks like fun...kind of like an updated version of my OHSG so here it goes.

How did I start this saga in the first place? Well, one Sunday after church, I sat down to read the local newspaper and there it was...

I turned to Jodie Michelle, the dog, and exclaimed, "It's my house! It's for sale!" How did I know it was my house? All I can say is that I just knew. I'd never even seen the inside even though I had passed this house almost everyday for my whole life. Only a couple of months before, it actually caught my eye. I noticed for the first time that it had a wrap-around porch (one of the most important items on my "must have" list). For a while I'd been looking for an old house to move and restore. Every "house for sale to be moved" I had looked at before was in such bad shape, or had been altered so badly, that bringing them back appeared to be beyond my abilities. Wait a minute...abilities? What abilities? My DIY career had up until this point consisted of refinishing a few pieces of furniture. Well, there's always that sanity issue. This house was deceptive. It belonged to the church next door and they were using it for Sunday School classes. It needed cosmetic changes, but it had been extremely well maintained. That would be BEFORE the housemovers with chainsaws appeared. More to follow....