I already have a '32 that I drive occasionally, but when the chance came up to buy a '33, I had to jump on it. Although this '33 will take a lot of money to restore, it'll never be driven. In this case, I'm talking about an old house.
Of course, the timing for these things is never exactly right, but it seemed to hit at a time when things were already changing quite a bit. Having just gotten married a few months ago, my wife Janet and I returned from our honeymoon to find a house a couple doors away from my 1929 home with a "For Sale" sign planted in the lawn. It wasn't a big shock to me that it was on the market because I had been talking with the son of the woman who had been living there. She had recently passed away and he was talking about relocating his family back to town to live there. The house had been in his family since it was new, but his move wasn't going to work out, so he was forced to put it up for sale.
With a new wife and a larger family on the horizon, it was obvious that my current house was going to get real small, real fast, and this new one would offer us almost twice the room. But it wasn't going to be easy, since the house had never changed hands; therefore it had never really been fixed up-either by someone trying to sell or by a new owner making improvements. The kitchen looked like it had been redone sometime in the '60s, but had not had an easy life since.
Suddenly the honeymoon-period my new bride was looking forward to after spending so much time planning every detail for a wedding was over. The moon-drenched strolls, candlelit dinners gazing into each other's eyes, and quiet time relaxing on the couch were now going to be replaced with evenings knocking down plaster, remodeling bathrooms, sanding woodwork, and refinishing hardwood floors. There's not a room in the house that doesn't need a lot of attention.
If you think building a '32 Ford is expensive, try gutting and rebuilding a kitchen in a '33. It's funny listening to my wife's reasoning as to why we need to go with a certain appliance or upgraded countertop. "We've gone this far, so while we're doing it, we might as well do it right." Sound familiar? It's the same excuse we use on them as we're building a hot rod: "The engine is out, so I might as well rebuild it," or, "I can't just leave the old interior if I'm going to paint it."
This house is her hot rod, and she already has every room planned. She may ask my opinion on something once in a while, but I get the feeling she doesn't really hear it. I just keep reminding her that once the house is livable and I start on the garage expansion, I might as well install that four-post lift because I've gone this far and while I'm doing it, I might as well do it right.
Honey, remember the love.