But just as you gawk around that new kitchen with the acres of cool smooth pink granite, stainless steel, stained glass lighting it is time to continue the house tour. Reluctantly you and your clipboard leave the kitchen, trailing behind the seller.
Walking across the expensive imported tile your footstops echo off the flooring.
You enter the dining room like someone turned a Twilight Zone switch. It is 1957 to a tee and you start down shifting mental gears.
The living room is 1966 all over again.
You hear "Hey hey we're the Monkees" between your ears start up as you continue to scribble, make notes.
The bathroom Mary Kay Pink. Probably from the same 1957 era as the dining room you deduce.
Ditto for the long dark hall that is like entering the Eisenhower Tunnel.
How did the kitchen get all the attention of a spoiled, favorite child? What caused the record ripping across a vinyl sound, the operation with the saw horses and air tools to screech to an abrupt stop? The rest of the home not touched, brought up the same level at all. Betting all the house budget on the kitchen and thinking the money for the rest of the renovation would come and it dried up? Your winning lottery numbers not?
We see it and I call the house condition "out of balance". You explain the entire home needs to be brought up to similiar levels. Like jacking up, raising a home that has settled. You don't pump for all you are worth on one point. Because the rest of the home gets out of shape, breaks, cracks. So when, if I get to tour a home before the rehab it is stressed, pointed out to make sure the budget is spread over the entire spectrum of the house job jar slips from the "to do" list collection.
If the home owner does not, you get them all excited in one area just to let them back down in the rest of the home. And the improved areas serve to create an uncomfortable contrast to the original portions that have been neglected, let go. Not the impression most real estate buyers are looking for or one the market rewards. Often they intended to keep the air hammer gun working like a little beaver but something happens.
Layoff, health issues, divorce, relocaton or just went nuts with plastic. Ran out of money from poor or no planning. Or the wrong contractor that went through bankruptcy in the middle of the exercise won the job that went quickly down hill, had a seizure. The one where you paid him up front, not a third, third, third metered out. Maybe he was a family member or used to be before the divorce papers were served and everything went upside down. Maine, always your best case scenario. And a place your heart AND your head are humming the same tune, in agreement. Both happy to be in Maine.