We Have to Say Something Nice, So This House Has Great Bones

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bonesAs children, we’re all told at least once, that if we can’t say anything nice, we shouldn’t say anything at all. But if I do that today, this column would be woefully short. So here goes: Our Wednesday WTF has really nice bones.

I will even go so far as to say that this home has gorgeous views from many rooms, but they aren’t interior views. They are views out the windows. 

And this lake view from the backyard is pretty.

And so is this view from the living room and the massive fireplace.

And I love the exterior. And I don’t hate the library.

Now, I should admit that taste is subjective. And I find myself stuck in some rooms, because I can’t decide if I hate hate that yellow wallpaper in the kitchen, or if I like it, or if it’s some kind of Stockholm syndrome associated with looking at the more uh, challenging real estate offerings of the world every week.

But I do know I have questions about nearly everything else.

Like the flooring and the wallpaper in the great room and upstairs landing.


And um, the wallpaper positioning in this bedroom.

And, for that matter, can we talk about all the bedrooms? For instance, the master.

I mean, it’s like if Keith Partridge’s shirt had a baby with Prince and Doris Day and then that baby fell and hit its poor noggin one day and then ate a lot of acid. A lot. Like, enough that even the Grateful Dead took one look and told Baby Prince PartridgeShirt-Day to lay off.

I can’t stop staring at it.

But hey, again, the bones. Look at the size of the room. Look at those views. I mean, if you haven’t completely been diverted by trying to figure out what that wallpaper pattern is. Is it so many tassels? Is it just a random geometric? Is it tombstones for all the good taste that died?

If this bedroom isn’t enough, try this one on for size.

Is it red? Is it hot pink? Is it salmon?

Oh, and I didn’t even mention the bathrooms. For the record, there are four-and-a-half of them, but I’ll give you a couple of exemplars.

I mean, why have one or two patterns when you can have like, three or four, right?

Now, I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that this house, at 6,105 square feet of lakeside living, is indeed a time capsule. It’s highly likely the decor hasn’t been changed since the home was built in 1973.  It’s listed, by the by, for $1.45 million.

Want to see more of the house? Duh, of course, you do. Want to read previous Wednesday WTF’s in bed and snort-laugh your spouse awake at 2 a.m.? Here you go.

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Adlene Neely Dealey

Adlene has been a real estate writer for the better half of a decade, but only recently came to CandysDirt.com to write our Wednesday WTF column. Have a doozy of a listing not fit for public consumption? She wants to see it.

Reader Interactions


  1. mmCandy Evans says

    You betcha it’s a 1973 time capsule. In Ohio, none the less. I’ve got to dig out pics of the home my parents built in 1972 when shag carpet so long you raked it (when you bought the carpet the plastic rake came as a freebie) was the rage and oh yes, we got it. Also sunken living rooms. I really want to meet the genius architect who invented the sunken living room. There was one (actually, several steps and levels) in a home we covered recently and not one but three people tripped during the open house.

    How could I forget: the 1970’s era was all about tripping!

  2. The_Overdog says

    My god. You’d have to tear out the drywall in the ceiling to de-wallpaper that place! And that red room? I’d keep that door locked, as anyone who spent more than 5 minutes in there is going on a ‘likely murderer’ mental list.

  3. Cindy W says

    Candy, I thought “tripping” was mainly in the 60s. . But, hey, this house does have great bones. And the Prince/Partridge room LOL.

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