I bogged about a little house I adore recently that is sat patiently empty to the side of on my regular daily dog walking route….it has sat not lived in for some time.
A beautifull example of a turn of the last century British Victorian end terrace house with all original features that has thus far and to date, proved the exception to it’s peers and entirely escaped “modernisation” of each kind. Here is the link to my last post……so that you may see the before pictures……
I sincerely wished it well and hoped sincerely that the new family would honour it’s heritage and merely update it?…,..
Clearly this was far too much to hope for as what has transpired is beyond my worst expectations, I do think it would have been far more considerate to demolish the poor thing and start again….
The owner is fully exercising his democratic right to do as he pleases with the house he paid £20,000.00 for, and is seemingly taking an inordinately long time to slowly torture and wreck this beautifull old house turning it into a shadow of its former splendor.
His first attempt at abominations was to tear out the upstairs, original sash windows and throw them into the skip……replacing them with albeit wooden framed double glazed windows……thus isn’t too bad I muttered and cursed to myself the day he did so….it could have been white upvc?
BUT the fact he installed them using his obvious bulk purchase of orange squirty fill the gap badly foam……so now the absence of beautifully original green sash windows replaced with wooden orange foam surrounded ugly windows…..
grrrrrrrrrrrrr is all I can grumble…..
As for the beautifull stained glass front door…..I think it remained unsmashed for all of a week?……soon to be broken and covered in a plastic sheet drilled into the door frame…….
and on the subject of orange squirty foam and misuse of screws…..IF you think my rant unfounded……take a glance at this……
and so in conclusion despite my wishing this beautifull house with all original features, all the very best in her refresh it would seem my secret fear was instead realised and it is being slowly and painfully converted and modernised before my moist eyes.
I am lost for words and can only end by saying I have changed my route to the park and so avoid having to look at the ongoing abuse as it is too sad to watch…..
as I started by saying sometimes don’t you hate being right?