From farmers to entrepreneurs, my future in-laws are beginning a business venture in real estate; their first investment property being a small, repossessed, Cape Cod style home. My fiancé and I had the pleasure of accompanying them when they met with the realtor to visit the house. With little expectation, we drove to the site—but nothing could have prepared us for what we saw when we arrived. I think everyone was breathless as we walked through the back door.
Breathless not because it was magnificent, but because it reeked so strongly of various odors that one could scarcely breathe. The place looked as though a hurricane had ripped through. Cabinet doors littered the kitchen floor; stains soaked the floor boards; brittle Cheerios clung to the ugly living room walls; holes were punched in the bedroom drywall; windows were missing everywhere, replaced only by plywood; fan blades and lights were bent and broken; millions of staples covered the window frames and plywood floors; the shower and toilet were stained orange from iron-water and rust; where there were windows, the screens had been slashed; and everything was covered in old dog hair. It was a complete disaster.
With our wedding only a few months away, and plans to move to California within a year, my fiancé and I had no interest in buying the house. However, beyond the stench and wreckage, his parents saw its potential. Within two days, they got a loan and contacted the realtor, ready to make a deal. Then they turned to us: “Once you’re married, you’ll need a place to live. If we fix up the house, you can rent it from us until your big move.”
My fiancé and I shared a look—this was an answer to prayer. The agreement was made and work on the house commenced. Scrubbing, painting, sanding, sweeping; the entire family was involved. Every day, changes to the house were made. Progress was visible. Improvements showed. Thankfully, my fiancé takes after his father in the way that he is a jack-of-all-trades. From replacing windows, to laying tiles, they can do it all. However, we got so far before discovering that we could not go on. As the house had sat dormant for over two years, numerous pipes had frozen and cracked, needing thorough inspection both in the bathroom and kitchen.
Our bathroom project came to an abrupt halt as we required the expertise of a professional plumber. So we waited for our plumber, with shining wrench in hand, to charge to our aid and save the day. Plumbing is not a job for the faint of heart and everyone was relieved to delegate this exacting task to a knowledgeable professional who can help. It was with great pleasure when we could finally use the house’s bathroom instead of always driving to the nearest public park restroom. We all were so thankful to our hero—an Alexandria plumber. He saved the day, the kitchen, and most importantly, the bathroom!
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