We took exactly zero photos of the mountain house when we looked it it oh-so-many months ago. So imagine our joy upon unearthing some small, grainy images at the end of our appraisal report. Embedded in a PDF, the shots are difficult to copy to this blog, but I’m going to rev up the old screen-shot app and do it anyway, y’all.
I’m paranoid about posting a photo of the front of the house onto the Internetworks, which is too bad. The house sports some curb appeal by way of a stone retaining wall (most Dunsmuir houses share this feature) and a front door that’s itching to be painted red. Actually, the whole house is itching to be painted something other than beige. Witness the house from the back:
You can’t see Mount Shasta from this angle, but you can from other parts of the property. The view, when you can find it, knocks your socks off: 14,000 feet of mountain, jutting ferociously above every surrounding ridge. The appraiser must have snapped the above photo from a leveled platform that sits in the back corner of the yard, just waiting for our outdoor dining setup, or maybe an above-ground pool.
The living room opens up onto this spectacular sea of beige objects. Or maybe there are only two: the floor and the walls. It’s hard to tell, honestly, because all the beige blends into itself until you start to imagine objects. (Is that a chair? Or the kerosene heater?)
The one truly stand-out object here is the wood-burning stove. This is a classic, 1980s-era Earth Stove, right down to the scroll work on the front, which used to house a hideous, burnt-orange tile. I grew up with one of these puppies–remind me someday to tell you about the time I sat on one after the bath. Ouch. These stoves have pretty much always been ugly, and I’m guessing it’ll be some time until we replace it. So, then, what to do with this room? Paint the brick hearth? Certainly tear up the carpets to expose and refinish the hardwood floor we think lies beneath.
Next up, the kitchen.
Yep, it’s a kitchen, complete with kitcheny linoleum and kitcheny formica. It comes with most appliances, save a dishwasher. (Curious: Why would you leave the fridge but take the dishwasher with you in a foreclosure situation? Or maybe the bank sold the dishwasher?) Nothing fancy here, but it’s cheerful enough. I picture some ruffly, patterned curtains over the sink and colored glass knobs on the cabinets. Maybe yellow paint? Or a cheerful blue?
Behold the nook. This is where the wallpaper will go. I can’t wait to measure this room and start on a hunt for dining furniture.
The house has two bathrooms, also, and a laundry room/entrance hallway, but neither compelling enough to merit photos quite yet. The three bedrooms don’t scream individuality either, save their fantastic, cedar-lined built in closets:
With closets like that, who needs dressers?
Six days left until closing. We haven’t determined quite yet when we’ll be able to drive up to turn on the power, but that’s another story for another day. Yawn. Goodnight.