Built in 1969, my split-level had yellow vinyl siding, tiny aluminum windows, popcorn ceilings, baseboard electric heat, dark paneling, and chocolate-colored carpet. Despite these wonderful features, as with all things in real estate, it was about nothing but location. Being clean and reasonably priced didn't hurt either.
The previous owner was a concrete-truck driver, recently retired, and a great guy by all accounts. A salt-of-the-earth kind of person whom people really enjoy talking to. Honest and straightforward, he tried to maintain the home well. In years past he had built an addition behind the garage, and had done some recent remodeling in the bathrooms and kitchen. But just as watching Kareem Abdul-Jabbar does not give you a dominating skyhook, delivering concrete does not make you a skilled electrician, framer, or concrete finisher.
It had two electric subpanels that looked as if someone a few pages short of a full chapter had wired them, but miraculously neither had caught on fire. The newer front door opened the wrong direction (open the door, walk down the stairs, close the door, then go up the stairs). It was really only a problem if you wanted to go in or out easily. Egress through the nice new garage door with electric opener solved that problem quickly.
Speaking of the garage, it had some of its concrete floor settling on the lower side. The much lower side. About 10 inches lower from one side of the double-wide door to the other. This may be due to the four feet of uncompacted fill it rests on. But I knew that, and overlooked it, along with many other things.
As you can imagine, as one side of a garage slab cracks and settles, it no longer meets the driveway. Rather than routinely slipping one's vehicle into four-wheel drive, replacing or repairing the slab, it might have seemed easier to just break out the driveway, dig down 10 inches on one side and re-pour it to match the garage. And that's exactly what happened.
The big fir tree about two feet from the same corner was left in place, with concrete poured all around its roots, possibly to keep the tree standing in a windstorm, and to prevent further settling of the now lower driveway and perimeter walkways. New framing to hold the garage door was set on the settled floor, and the exterior siding was brought down to match.
But, alas, in order for the new garage door to fit properly, the bottom edge had to be reconfigured with a 10-inch tapered section, which if you can imagine, looks cockeyed when you drive up.
Another compromise, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so I overlooked it.
The addition
When the 10-by-18 addition was built, the roof needed only to be extended rearward on the same slope. Rather than building new walls the same height, and continuing the roof plane, Einstein complicated it by building it on a slightly lesser slope — this of course leaving an "X" where the two planes intersected.
While this may not be impossible for a professional roofer to weatherproof, it would be extremely challenging.
Suffice to say the person who did the job was not a professional roofer, and it became a chronic leak. Sure, I saw it, but rationalized it away, wanting to get into the house without too many battles.
Gutters were never installed; the water was left to drain onto the walkway below. Conventional three-tab shingle roofing was used, despite the admonitions against using it on such low slopes.
In order to avoid lifting long or heavy rafters, they all appeared to have been field-fabricated using three-foot long scraps of two-by-fours, laminated together with what I swear was an entire box of nails.
Surgery and recovery
Bright and early at 8 a.m. two days after Christmas seemed like a good time to rip the old rafters off and frame the roof the way it should have been done. My gosh, it wasn't raining, it was relatively warm outside, and we hadn't had a windstorm in several years.
After removal of the rafters and predicted rot in the soffit, a nest of carpenter ants was found directly below the "X," under the vinyl siding.
Leaning on the wall and having the bottom move, it became apparent that the foundation was actually poured right over the top of what used to be a sloping patio. The foundation bolts tightly anchored the bottom of the wood wall to the foundation, although the foundation wasn't attached to the floor — and was built over fill!
We were just about to disconnect one of the three walls and let the by-now 40 mph winds reclaim it as a patio, when we had an epiphany and realized the end wall contained the new electric panel.
And not wanting to put $2,000 of framing and roofing over a pest-infested wall resting on fill, we had to correct it. It needed a foundation under it. But the entire garage and addition perimeter had concrete walkways, the walkways connected to two poorly draining patios, and the whole works was attached to the garage. Ultimately all the concrete should come out, and be re-poured correctly.
I knew the previous owner had nothing but the best intentions. But good intentions married to a boatload of poor decisions can be worse than just plain old poor-quality work. Upon great reflection (looking at my checkbook), a compromise was in order; gravel walkways are just fine, and a side-slope in the garage only adds to a house sorely lacking in character. So if you listen very carefully, that jackhammer you hear may be mine, as I make yet another compromise.
Darrell Hay answers readers' questions. Call 206-464-8514 to record your question |
