It's a fact: old houses are scary, particularly when you begin to fix what you think is a Small Problem.
There is no such thing.
As I type, I can hear squeaks, thuds, and splintering wood coming from the bathroom across the house. We had a leak, you see - and it was so bad the floor was caving in. Apparently it invited small furry creatures, as well - we had cats and mice (living together?) underneath the tub. Unrelated to the tub was a sink problem - the pipes were so old that when Jeff tried to declog a few months ago, the pipe just distinegrated. In the meantime, the seal on the toilet broke when the floor began to warp.
Yup. No such thing as a "little" problem.
This is a good thing, as long as the smell from the rotted wood doesn't make me sick. I am looking forward to putting down new flooring, and we will probably repaint. Granted, the purple looked pretty cool (and still does), but I'm ready for a new look. We'll be getting a new sink/vanity, toilet, and fixtures. The tub will find its way back into place, because there's actually nothing wrong with it.
How long this will take, I couldn't begin to tell you. I showered this morning (rather than at night as is my habit) in anticipation of a potentially long wait for the opportunity to get clean again.
Who knows? I might even sneak in there and snap a picture for prosperity's sake!