Still, tenants came and went in a steady progression—fortunately. When, near the end of the century, it was time for a third renovation, photographs and other records were dredged up with an eye to recapturing some of the house’s original ambience. New copper wiring replaced the old aluminum wiring; a plethora of extra outlets and cable- and data-ports were added. The subdivided former laundry-bathroom was retained, and an over-and-under washer-dryer set was brought in. The ceilings were stripped of their “cottage cheese”. The unusually thick wall between the living room and the stairway was dismantled to reveal the original wood pillars, sadly battered by drywall nails; a refinisher was called in to restore them. The odd base and crown moulding on that wall proved to be part of the structural support. The concrete patio, after modification to improve drainage, became the foundation for a simple raised redwood deck. Last, but certainly not least, the house underwent a complete seismic retrofit, including conversion of the fireplace to gas only.

A decade later, the housing crash left the owners facing some hard questions and harder answers. Renting had proven to be no more than a break-even proposition over the course of the house's existence, taking into account the three renovations. Perhaps it was time to unload what always had been something of a fifth wheel. When Ana and Tom married and announced their intention to find a new home, Vera saw an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. The new couple would get a nice little house in good shape, with a discounted price and down payment as a wedding gift, and her family by marriage would divest itself of an albatross.

Shown is the ground floor after the last renovation, in the state Ana and Tom found it when they purchased the house. The previous modifications had been reconciled gracefully by a skilled and dedicated team of designers and contractors, retaining or reviving much of the period look while integrating more modern elements.