Realtor: Have you ever had a problem with water in your basement?
Me: Well, there’s a stream in the cellar.
The realtor was not amused. Especially when he found out that it was true.
Our house was built in 1850. I know that is not old by European standards, but by American standards it is OLD. It was built pre-Civil War. People who were children during the American Revolution were still alive when this house was built.
I fell in love with it on sight.
Right behind the house is a creek. It’s lovely. And it runs through the house. The cellar was constructed to allow for the overflow from the creek that happened when there was a lot of rain or a lot of melting snow. The floor was dirt, covered in gravel and had an entrance and exit for the water.
Yes, yes, yes we got the occasional critter. No fish, though, thank goodness.
When the realtor went down to the cellar, he immediately hit his head on the ceiling. I’m 5’2″ and I didn’t have to duck. But it was close.
Then he looked to the right. In an area enclosed by bricks or rocks (I can’t remember) was the mother of all heavy iron, coal furnaces from the 1800’s. It was a monster. The stuff of childhood nightmares. The breathing, burning furnace with the flames coming to get the unsuspecting children. And it made a cool selling point for the house.
When the house converted to a more modern furnace, the old one was too big and heavy to be disassembled and removed. Which begs the question of how it got there in the first place. I wish I had taken pictures of the old furnace and the cellar. What stories that cellar could tell.
A stream runs through it.