I got out to the Strode Cabin about two weeks ago. The previous resident didn't clean up before he left. He didn't even sweep the floors or empty his ashtrays. I spent the first week just cleaning. The studio was easier - just clean the built-in shelving, fireplace, bathroom, and windows, then remove the bug infested desk, couch and rug. I wound up removing all of the furniture he had in there - it was cluttered and dirty. I also removed my late benefactor's many plaques and awards - I really can't write with commendations on his 3-volume Jefferson Davis bio lining the walls. I'm surprised anyone else could. UA fixed the busted windows, got the door to lock, and will (hopefully) remove the dead tree before it falls and crushes me.
The cabin was/is another matter. I'm not exactly sure why the previous resident didn't simply ask the University of fix this stuff - pothole, water damage, holes in walls, broken windows, broken screens, doorknobs, moldy caulk, dead exhaust fan - it just goes on and on. None of it is unfixable by any means, but there's just so much to do. I've had six guys fixing things at once in that cabin, plus my own repairs. I painted the place white - a good color for starting over. That was after the cleaning - with the help of some friends, I mucked out the fridge (don't ask), the oven, the kitchen cabinets, and the shower enclosure. I'm still working on the floors. Everytime I mop, I have to call the Alabama Museum of Natural History and to see what I should do with the dinosaur bones. UA will (hopefuly) remove the other dead tree before it falls and crushes me. While cutting wallpaper into shelf paper, I dropped a knife onto my foot.
On the other hand.
I spent a few hours one exquisitely dark night sitting on my porch. Fireflies lit the wet-water creek that runs in front of my cabin, now covered in generations of English ivy and pine saplings. Squirrels ran amok in the trees. The land is intensely alive and wild. Perhaps the previous resident just never went inside.