My first own home was a small 2-up, 2-down with kitchen extension; built in about 1850 by erecting four solid outer walls of local stone, roofing with slates straight onto the timber rafters (no roofing-felt in its time), and dividing the interior with woodwork.
The first-floor bathroom floor was of rough-sawn timber planks, not tongue-and-grooved, warped with age and left bare but full of tacks from years of lino or carpet. My Dad suggested the best approach was to remove or flatten the tacks, cover the wood with hardboard and seal that with polyurethane varnish, then I could lay mats or a rug over it.
Would that first sheet of hardboard fit properly...?
It was only by lying on my back in the doorway and looking up the wall I could see the room was totally out-of-square. Measuring showed the error to be about 6 inches in only 6 feet of floor width.
And so it went on with that house... I began to see what estate-agents really mean by "character cottage"!
@Justmeraeagain Oh yes, I expect estate-agents the freehold-world over have such a vocabulary of euphemisms and hyperbole!
Ones I have seen include -
"In need of sympathetic modernising" (probably means a complete bathroom and kitchen overhaul, re-wiring, new central-heating boiler, a damp spot to be investigated, loose roof slates refitting...)
"deceptively spacious" (= "small);
"sea glimpses" (if you stand on a chair at the window of the smallest bedroom),
"convenient for local services" ( a stop ten minutes' walk away, on a bus route with infrequent services; near a convenience shop just about clinging to life despite the supermarkets two miles away).
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.
Oh no?! We are thinking of tearing out the carpet too in our living room. The rest of the house has hard wood floors. The carpet is so light colored in the living room that it's hard to keep clean. I'm scared what we might find underneath though?!馃馃槒
