Molotov cocktails

Foreclosed houses are so weird. I'm sure there's a sad story behind each of them. I went to see another one yesterday that made me think of the molotov cocktail story.

Anyway, the house I went to look at yesterday is in a neighborhood with million dollar homes, relatively new (5-8 years old), and the neighboring houses are beautiful. This particular house was disgusting inside. Food and liquids littered every surface of the kitchen, the wood floors looked like they'd had massive wear or water damage, the carpeting was covered in pee stains from either a dog or cat, there were holes in the drywall for no apparent reason, weeds grew 5 feet tall in the landscaping, the posts that held the porch/deck up were rotten at the bottom, the door frames outside either had dry rot or termite damage....it was unbelievable, the list goes on and on. Upstairs each bedroom had a different vinyl flooring! It was as if the owners had removed the carpeting with a blade cutter and laid vinyl themselves. There was paint spilled on the carpeting upstairs, cobwebs with those egg pods in the corners! Seriously, spiders are breeding in that house. Imagine the food source they must have? These people built a beautiful home for almost a million dollars, and then proceeded to live like disgusting pigs until the bank took the house back because they didn't make their mortgage payments. So sad. They had never tried to sell it themselves.

So a few weeks ago, Neil and I went to look at a different foreclosure in Pevely Farms. The area is stunning, sweeping hills with views for miles, a golf course in your backyard, horse farms with white picket fences, etc. The house was a two-year-old french country with stone and brick on the exterior, and a floorplan inside that was perfect for us. It actually wasn't trashed, which is odd for a foreclosure, other than all of the appliances being ripped from the kitchen. But here's the weird part....in the garage, there was an old wooden soda crate, the kind that holds glass bottles. And there were twelve perfectly lined up glass bottles...molotov cocktails. My dad and Neil both said "uh, you may not want to buy this house...what if the crazy old owner comes back to seek revenge?" I mean, something really weird was going on there. In the drawers in the kichen were a bunch of owner's manuals for different guns. There was a pile of keys that had all been broken off at the stem. Just some really weird stuff.

Anyway, our adventures in home searching continue....I am ever optimistic.