houses have feelings too or how about some taste, people?

EDITED to add a few pictures....

thank you shannon for the little camera keychain!!
lego "zapper" by sabin - she made it one day when she couldn't find the t.v. remote
my monthly art journal calendars on the left (with april woefully not completed)
and that naff bumpy wallpaper that's on the wall behind has got to go.

dear previous owners of this house (all of them),

i've spent some time organizing around the house. things are started to be settled in and it begins to feel more like our house. we haven't painted or put up new wallpaper or anything like that since it will all be torn apart again in a few months anyway, but i was feeling a strong need for it to feel more like our  home.

but as i'm working around the house, i am consistently amazed at the choices you made...everything from mis-matched ceilings (no less than 7 different ceiling materials) to rope used as a "finish" between wall and ceiling to naff bumpy wallpaper. while i can understand that sometimes money is tight, these choices are not only cheap, but just tasteless and even more than that, careless. had you really never visited anyone who had a proper house and taken note of how doorframes and ceilings are constructed? and did you really have to use that crappy rope in the "old living room?" who told you that looked good?

so many things wrong with this that i don't even know where to begin
there was even woodchip wallpaper on that BEAM at one point for the love of odin!

what surprises me is that there are times when i find that the conversation i'm having in my head about it all is really quite angry about the whole thing. i'll admit i'm missing my beautiful oak floors and red smeg refrigerator (much to my dismay it's normal to sell the appliances with the house here, not take them with you and believe you me, the subject has been extensively cried about discussed in this household), but to be honest, it's not just that. the anger is coming from elsewhere and at the risk of sounding like i've gone stark raving mad,  i think that elsewhere is the house itself. i think the house feels you neglected and mistreated it all these years. that you totally didn't see and utilize its potential.

this ceiling is made of up rough wood that you'd normally build a fence with - not for ceiling use, people!
and look at how they joined the two lists at top? even i know you should cut it at an angle!

but it's also possible that i've reached a point in both my old age and my aesthetic sense where i have a distinct lack of patience for people who lack a sense of quality and doing things properly. i just don't understand why you wouldn't put in a proper ceiling and pay attention to which way you lay the boards in comparison to the hallway just outside the door. i don't get why you wouldn't just buy enough tiles to finish the job or at least find a less obvious solution than using whatever you could scrounge out of a skip at the dump to finish the job. and i really don't just blame a lack of money, it's also a lack of pride in a way. why would you want to live this way? and especially in this extremely design-conscious country, how on earth did you ever have anyone over to dinner?

and it has me thinking about what a home is...it's more than just a building, it's a refuge, a safe place, the place where you can really be yourself and express yourself. it's an expression of who you are and what i'm getting at doesn't really have to do with how much money you have, it's more to do with the amount of care you exercise in making it yours.  i am looking forward to all of the changes we're going to be making here (and the house tells me it is too). in the meantime, it does help a little bit to get out the sewing machine and jazz up the curtains a little bit (even just making them all the right length helps), spread out our rugs and baskets of stones and hang some art on the walls. it makes both the house and me much happier. but seriously, you people really did a number on this place...

sincerely,
/julie and the house that's not a windmill