By Jim Hagarty
When we walk out into the sunshine each day, we can be positive and greet our neighbours with a smile.
Or, we can do this.
I bought the house you see at the top of this post 30 years ago. It was a bit of a shambles when I bought it which helped in the price department. But three decades of love, sweat and bank loans and the place seems to be out of reach, for the moment, of the building inspectors in my town who go around and actually condemn houses, deeming them unfit for habitation. Ours is still fit for habitation although some days, we might just slip under the wire.
But back in 1986, a few weeks after I bought my new palace, a neighbour who had lived on the street since back when milk was still delivered by a horse and wagon, sidled over to give me the home inspection I had failed to formally acquire before I made my purchase.
“I watched this house being built,” he said to me. “They built it in a hell of a hurry.”
“Oh,” I replied, waiting for the hammer to fall.
It wasn’t long in falling.
“It’s a terrible house,” said neighbour.
This is what I replied (in my dreams that night):
“Well, at least it isn’t a terrible neighbour.”
But I didn’t really say that, of course.
I just went and got out my paint brush.
Maybe it’s a pig, I don’t know. But it has nice lipstick.
And terrible or not, I love it.
(Full disclosure: I miss the days when you could just tell half the story and leave some out. Too much honesty going on these days. My neighbour turned out to be pretty nice guy and we had great chats over the years before he died. He did, however, become one of the “sidewalk superintendents” who came around during my extreme renovations and gave me the helpful news that I was doing everything wrong. That didn’t bother me much because they only “thought” I was doing everything wrong. I had the advantage of knowing for sure I was actually doing everything wrong. Because my neighbour was able to describe in some detail how he felt the housebuilders had rushed the construction, I was able to make a better job of the makeover. The foundation was the weakest part, he said. He was right. It cost me thousands to repair. In the end, I have a better house because of his bluntness.)
