Our Appliance Replacement Philosophy

When appliance is threatening to burn house down, then, and only then, shall you replace it.

Now, this is not to say that we are trying to flirt with death, just that the appliances around here like to give us little warning of their imminent demise. Take the stove (first appliance to be replaced). One day, we happened to notice it was scorching the cabinet beside it. It was a Montgomery Ward gem from the 60s or 70s. It's replacement, a generic, white Maytag was our joint birthday present to each other. How romantic. Anyway, the latest appliance to die was the dryer (also a Montgomery Ward from the 60s or 70s--mustard yellow, no less). Now I never trusted the thing, so the chance of me actually killing Kevin in this instance is rather low, but who knows. A week or two before Christmas, I was getting ready to go out of town to make cookies with my mom and sister. I had thrown in a load of jeans to dry, because I had wanted to wear a pair of them. As I walked into the kitchen to head down to the basement to get the jeans I smelled smoke.

Had I not smelled the smoke, this is where the potential Kevin death could have occurred (he was upstairs sleeping in by the way). I could have gone two ways: either I would have grabbed the jeans and left the rest in the dryer to finish drying (and killed Kevin), or I would have grabbed the jeans and had the rest finish drying when I got back (see the part about me not trusting the dryer). Personally, I think my distrust of the dryer ran deep enough that I would not have left it running with him still sleeping. The only times I ever left it running while I was not home was when the dog was out of the house with me.

Anyway, as it happened, I smelled smoke, ran downstairs, and stopped the dryer. Now, at this point, we had no money at all (see the last post about me finally getting a job) so a new dryer was out of the question. I strung lines up in the basement, but our clothes were stretched funny. Luckily, Christmas money came through, and we were able to purchase a beaut off Craigslist (and persuade the couple to deliver it for us). So now we have a generic biscuit-colored dryer in the basement purchased as a Christmas present.

I fully expect the fridge to burst into flames in time for our birthdays in March.

First Impressions

I have noticed a trend in the reactions we get when people see our house for the first time. They either love it or are appalled by it. For instance, when the assessor came to look yesterday, she was horrified enough to drop the tax value down $60,000 dollars. Apparently they have a remodeling formula they use that is pretty accurate in estimating value. She didn't think it would work in our case. Ouch.

I think their reactions are based on two factors: their ability to visualize the finished project and their experiences/feelings about old houses. For instance, those who appreciate old house charm seem to love it and brush off its flaws as "old house quirks." One of my friends told me her boyfriend's old place had the same floors in the same condition. Kevin's uncle shrugged off our electrical issues. Our parents think our freak-outs when things don't go as planned are laughable.

I tend to take house reactions pretty seriously for some reason. I think it's because I want reassurance that we aren't crazy. Some days when I wake up and go down to the front closet to find clothes, turn on the camping light we shower by, and blow dry my hair in the hall, I feel a little crazy. Then a friend or family member swoops in and recalls their wiring experience, and I feel a little better. So if you ever see our house, go easy on me. Laugh behind my back. And please, make sure when your jaw drops you have a ready excuse.