May 15 09

As if you haven't read enough about the current Real Estate Market conditions in Victoria. Well, I don't have a lot to say on this topic, except how it affects me personally.  And most recently, it affected me personally by landing us on the doorstep of one particular dump in Fernwood.

From the outside, this house looked relatively normal for a Fernwood Special - a bit tired-looking, but not a slum.  Little did we know what we were about to walk into.  Our first clue should have been that the driveway and the backyard were in the same place.  It did appear that the original purpose of this plot of earth was indeed to be a back yard but for some reason the last owners thought tire tracks would make a wonderful addition to the garden.  (-wait, there was no garden)  Speaking of plant-life, the single tree that stood in the backyard/driveway, had no leaves on it.  And in the month of May, most trees should be sprouting leaves.  That's because it was dead.  Clue number two.

Clue number three hit our senses as we entered the house through the back door.  Mold!  The house smelled like the walls were full of mold, and it was bad.  The place was in such unbelievably poor condition that it seemed likely that mold was everywhere out of sight.  

The kitchen had old, peeling cabinets and appliances that looked like they were one step out of the junk yard.  The lanolium was cheap, yellowing and crooked.  Moving further into the house revealed dank, brown carpet throughout, and disgusting walls with water stains.  The bathroom had a small window that had been painted shut so a poorly-thought-out renovation could take place behind it.  The renovators hadn't bothered to take out the window, or the exterior stucco on the wall that became one side of a strangely laid out staircase leading to one lonely room.

In another bedroom we discovered a bed that had a sheet of plywood between the mattress and the comforter, as if someone had decided the wood was more comfortable.  "This is like an insane asylum" my fiancé commented.

"This is nothing."  Our realtor said.  "I once showed a vacant house that had blood smeared on the walls and a ouija board in the middle of the room."

"Get me out of here!"  I said.  "Where are they hiding the bodies?"