It's raining tonight and I am pleased to report that my new gutters are holding. Now I just have to figure out what that musty smell is in the office. Hopefully it won't cost hundreds of dollars to find out.
Here's a difference between California and the D.C. Metro area. By law in California, when you sell your home, you have to disclose everything that happened in or to the home. For example, if your house flooded in the El Nino winter of 1996, you have to disclose any damage that occurred as a result. Or, if your father died in his sleep in the living room, you have to disclose that a death occurred on the property. Stuff like that. That way, the next person who buys the house has a history and knows how to address issues as they arise.
In the D.C. Metro area, there is no disclosure when you buy property. As a result, your house could have been occupied previously by a drug dealer who cooked crystal meth in his kitchen, thus contaminating the house, and your realtor can't tell you that (they may not even know it themselves.) Or, if the house had bad gutters that resulted in leaking window frames and floor damage, you won't know that either until it rains like Noah's business and you discover it only as you watch water drip from the casing.
The latter would be my experience. Fortunately, the gutters have been fixed, so there's no more dripping window when it rains. But now I have to locate the source of mustiness and address it so it doesn't overtake the rest of the house. Ah, older homes. What a joy!
Still.... I can't complain too loudy. It's nice and dry in here, while it's wet and nasty out there. Which is how it should be!
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5 comments:
The addition to our older home takes on water when it rains--something the homeowners should have told us about and didn't.
Mike redid all the rain gutters, but we have to put waterproof flashing of some kind around the bottom and hope it keeps the water on the outside. Sigh.
At least the roof is fairly new.
Ah, home ownership... I often wish for the days where I could call the landlord/lady and have them deal with whatever the latest calamity was. Now, when I look in the mirror and say, "Call the landlord," I'm talking to myself.
Yup, that's a whole new world. At least I don't have to worry about a weaseley landlord and his crew of random Persian homeboys having perpetual access to mi casa.
until it rains like Noah's business
You crack me up! Thanks for the laugh.
SML: I came up with that alllllll by myself! (I'm pretty proud of that one, as good soundbites are a rarity for me.)
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