Gotta love old homes. All the charm, and idiosyncrasies.
Unpredictable plumbing; sloped floors, doors impossible to square, and the only place where water runs up hill.
Any renovation is an exploit in urban archeology.
Its wallpaper -- each layer pulling you back in time half a century.
Then the linoleum comes up, revealing several levels of oil canvas, rough hardwood, and finally sub floor.
Opening walls reveals a maker's mark; signature of a carpenter or mason having signed their handiwork, noting the year.
Often early 20th century.
And sometimes when it's quiet; on the outer edge of perception can be heard a Victrola radio set.
Echoing the sounds of Jimmy Dorsey, and the proclamation of the end of war.