Saturday, August 15, 2009

Tarte House Tour

Around March of this year, Boucher Family Farm acquired about 100 acres of abutting conserved farmland. The bonus was that the land came with a farmhouse which could be updated and turned into a rental that would help defray the cost of the purchase.


This is as close as I've been so far, since the "tenants" had roaming Rottweilers. Even so, Dan and I managed to get a contractor inside to quote renovations, but the disappointing verdict was: "Tear it down".

I see lots of kiddie things around even though the children are pre-teens. There's a longer story here, about how the rent and electricity were to be paid by the tenant's employer until September, when they would vacate. But they were, umm - terminated.

This made them squatters, since we didn't have the rental agreement with them. After the electricity was turned off, it took them an additional week to leave. But finally, I can get in to see how bad it is.

It's a nice spot for a home.

That's our cornfield surrounding the house; I noticed that there was far, far less junk piled up on the outside of the building than there was when we planted it.

I had heard that a neighbor was going to adopt the fish, but...

I know you can't see it, but there are swarms of flies, and in other rooms, swarms of mosquitoes. The floor has a 6-inch to 8-inch warped undulation.

An empty critter cage, a box of pants (yes, I looked). I hope that they are returning for these items.

All the cupboards are bare, but the 1/4 basement is filled with questionable-age canned goods.

I wondered what was wrong with the peanut butter and flour that had been left behind. It's just so odd. The condition of the counters and cupboards was no real surprise.

Dirty dishes in the sink, makes me gag to see it again.

The walls, wood - everything - is coated in slimy bio-film. And the odor? Count yourself lucky that there isn't such a thing as smell-o-vision. The closest descriptors are: expired-milk-filled teenager's sneakers, unwashed jocks, and wet dogs coughing up squirrel. No detectable tobacco, though. I hesitate to tally that as a positive.

How long the only bathroom has been non-functional is anybody's guess. I gave a scream of protest when Dan said he was going to lift the cover on the toilet bowl.


The "shed" at the rear of the building. I didn't walk through it, that's excrement and hay on the floor. There is just TMI back here.


The staircase is about two feet wide and nonstandard(ly) tall in rise. The original lathe and plaster walls reveal that there has been little renovation to the bones - except to cover a perfectly good beaded tongue-and-groove wood ceiling with cheap acoustic tiles. (They are falling off, but my camera decided it had documented quite enough, and drained its battery in silent protest.)

This is the cleanest room; these awesome wood floors are in every room of the original dwelling.

Clutter captured in previous photos (taken by our insurance agents) were found out on the lawn, burned - along with the missing windows.

Broken furniture, and surprisingly little water damage.

A room in the upstairs addition.

The incredible view of the surrounding area (and my house) is from that window back there, but I would have had to climb over all that garbage to see it. The railing, like the walls is coated in biofilm.

Afterward, I had a vital need to wash my hands, and no desire to go through this house again. Like the others who came before me, I agree that it is uninhabitable, unfixable and needs to come down. These were supposed to be the "before" pictures of a classic 50's farmhouse renovation. It's a quite a shame, really. I was so looking forward to it.