If it’s only down to those two, I think I’d go with the ranch.
Just seems that unless you’re super handy, have lots of free time and/or genuinely enjoy blowing every weekend (and day off) on Home Depot/DIY/renovation-and-repair fuckery, buying something from the 1800’s is the quickest, sure-fire way to test those limits.
My dad and stepmom lived in a 1922 house in north Chattanooga, just across the river from downtown (and all that goes with it) for many years. I honestly don’t recall a period where there wasn’t something going on or needed addressing…yard slope, basement bricks, foundation, drainage, retaining wall, front porch, floor joists, plumbing, plaster, electrical, kitchen, tile, bathroom weirdness, deck/patio and on and on. Just constant upkeep, projects, repairs, upgrading. On top of that, they were surrounded by either a) finger-wagging, meddlesome yuppie shitheads with dogs who never stopped barking (ever) or b) bohemian hippie twats who seemed to believe lawnmowers and a gallon of exterior paint were “like, all
oppressive, mannn…we just wanna live free and natural, mannn…”.
I don’t even want to think of how many thousands they spent over the years, and how much labor (a good bit of it involving me), endless trips to Lowe’s and Ace Hardware, dealing with several contractor/trades where a couple turned out to be more trouble than they were worth, etc.
They now live down in the country in Georgia, 14 miles from me. Huge yard that he loves to mow, a four-year-old nice, open-floor plan house, closest neighbors a good 150-200 feet away, quiet neighborhood of 40+ (age) couples who take care of their yards/property, no sirens at all hours, etc.
If it’s between an “older fixer-upper with character” (code for “this is all you’ll ever be messing with” ) or a newer (or recently renovated/upgraded) place, I’m going with the latter. Every time. There’s more to life than roaming the aisles of Home Depot every single weekend.
