Dirt

During the buying process, my parents more or less befriended the former owners of our house, Joe and Nancy. My Dad used to teach with Nancy, who has a habit of giving you a nickname and using it at least twice in every sentence. I also utilize this method, as I'm hoping she'll realize how ridiculous it is.

          "Well, Liss, and Liss and Liss!" [looks at my Mom] "Right, Bren??"

         "You don't say, Nance? And Nance, Nance! Nance!"

Anyway, Nance said she was going to have the house professionally cleaned before we moved in, so I didn't factor much cleaning time into our move. Sigh. They allegedly paid someone to do it, but it's anyone's guess what that person actually did during those hours, days, or weeks. My best guess is that this house hadn't really been cleaned in about 30 years, and that's fairly generous.

This is but one dirty bucket of dozens. I've been using vinegar and hot water on the wood paneling and floors, and I usually have to change the water every four feet.

Here's a sponge after one swipe of...anything.

There's even a layer of dirt on small and obvious items, like the built-in makeup mirror. Ah, yes, of course there's a centimeter of fuzzy scum with makeup and lipstick all over it! The medicine cabinet was terrifying.

I also found an old animal barf that had been metamorphosing into a stalagmite under the stairs. 

                                               [unpictured]

After several days of hard scrubbing (my shoulders are killing me), I finally gathered up all the dirty rags to throw them in the washing machine. It's relatively new and fancy, and it never crossed my mind that it would be dirty. I had noticed a gross smell in the room, but figured it was coming from the sink or the bathtub. 

The lighting in that room is awful, so I blindly shoved a bunch of stuff in the machine. Then my arm grazed over the seal, and I felt something very slimy. I got a flashlight.

Ewww, mold on the gasket.

Oh, mold everywhere in the gasket. Great!

I walked out of the room and experienced a Money Pit moment: 

After watching me maniacally weave a tapestry of profanities, Andy removed the gasket. Being the more intelligent one, he went in with nitrile gloves. House mantra: everything should be approached with hand condoms. Repeat after me.

Hey, Nance! Keep your new washer door open once in awhile!

I'm tempted to throw the old gasket into their new front yard. It's either that or drown both of them in a bucket of filthy bleach water.

I reek of mold and sorrow.