The Wall Alcove

My husband and a business partner are buying a house tomorrow.   The plan is to invest some money into it and flip it in six months or so, hopefully at a profit.   My husband and his partner, Peter, work well together on this type of venture.   They’ve done it once before in a limited sense and decided to expand their partnership gong forward.

They started looking for a house and shortly one came on the market just down the street from where Peter lives that met the criteria they were looking for in a home to flip.   This particular area has old homes but the area itself is in the middle of an economic increase.   The homes are small but are very close to both a large university and a renowned hospital.  Location alone makes even smaller, older houses worth far more than they would be elsewhere.

The house was in a state of disrepair due to the mother of ninety-six living in it being unable to take proper care of it.   There was extensive mold that had grown up due to a leak that went un-repaired.   To my husband and his partner, this wasn’t a problem as they were planning on gutting much of the home to update it.   They planned to keep the structure but change some things like making the kitchen somewhat larger and making the porch/patio add-on not feel so much like a basic enclosure and more like real living space.

Tomorrow is the closing on the property, Tuesday the demolition begins.   Today we were walking through it and as we came out one of the daughters was coming by to pick up some final things.    We had a very nice conversation with her talking about her childhood growing up in the house and the changes her father had made.   She was seventy-seven years old and this was her childhood home.

I took some pictures of the inside of the home for before pictures.   One of them was this, that I found in the hall:

Do you know what this little alcove was for?  I doubt most people college-age or younger would guess.

The Big Boy Update:  My in-laws were talking tonight about the town they live in.   The question of village versus town came up.   My son was explaining the difference using finger quotes and verbal emphasis and sounding oh so knowledgeable as he said, “it’s more of a ‘village’.   If people built their house there like the Indians, then it could be a ‘village’”.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:   My daughter happily explained to everyone at the table tonight, “I can’t wait to celebrate Cheesus’s birthday on Christmas.”