That humidity battle is real. I remember sealing up the drafty spots in my 1940s bungalow a few winters back—felt like a win, until the first cold snap when every window started sweating buckets. Ended up with little puddles on the sills and a weird musty smell that wouldn’t go away. Turns out, sometimes “too tight” is actually a thing.
The humidity sensor fan is a solid move. I tried one of those in the kitchen and it made a bigger difference than I expected, especially after boiling pasta or running the dishwasher. I’ll admit, I was stubborn at first and thought just opening a window for five minutes would be enough, but nope... not in January.
CO paranoia is totally justified, by the way. I’ve got two monitors after a scare with an old water heater years ago. Worth every penny for peace of mind.
I guess at the end of the day, it’s always a balancing act. Sealing up for warmth, then figuring out how to let the house “breathe” just enough. Old houses keep you humble, that’s for sure.
Funny, I thought sealing up every last crack would be the magic bullet for our drafty old place too. Did all the caulking, weatherstripping, even replaced a few windows last fall. It felt great at first—no more cold gusts sneaking in under the baseboards. But then, just like you said, the condensation started showing up everywhere. Our bathroom window looked like it had its own little rainstorm going on some mornings. I didn’t even realize that could happen from making things “too tight.”
We caved and got one of those humidity-sensing fans for the bathroom and laundry room. I was skeptical, but they actually kick on when we need them most, especially after showers or running the dryer. It’s not perfect (sometimes it’ll run longer than I’d like), but way better than mopping up puddles every day.
I hear you on the CO monitors too. Our furnace is ancient—probably should’ve been replaced a decade ago—and I’m always a little paranoid about what I can’t smell or see. We have two detectors now, one upstairs and one by the basement door. Cheap insurance if you ask me.
Honestly, there’s no winning with these old houses—you fix one thing and create another problem somewhere else. On the bright side, I’ve gotten pretty handy with a caulking gun and a dehumidifier... just wish the house would cut me some slack once in a while.
Honestly, there’s no winning with these old houses—you fix one thing and create another problem somewhere else.
That’s the story of my 1920s bungalow, too. I sealed up every gap and suddenly the bathroom mirror was fogged up 24/7. Adding a timer fan helped, but now I’m wondering if I should look into a heat recovery ventilator. Anyone tried one in an older place? I keep hearing mixed things about whether it’s worth the hassle.
That’s been my experience too—tightening things up made the house way less drafty, but suddenly moisture’s got nowhere to go. I actually put in an HRV last winter (ours is a 1935 Cape Cod) and it did help with the foggy windows and that musty smell, but it was a pain to install. Honestly, if you’re already running a decent bathroom fan and cracking a window sometimes, you might not need the full HRV setup unless you’ve really sealed the place tight. The energy savings are nice, but the upfront cost and cutting holes in old plaster walls... not my favorite weekend project.
Cutting into old plaster is the worst—always feels like you’re one slip away from a full wall repair. I get what you’re saying about HRVs being overkill sometimes, but I’ll admit, I’m a bit biased toward anything that keeps condensation off windows. I see so many older windows rot out from the inside because of trapped moisture. A good bathroom fan helps, sure, but if you’re getting foggy glass even with the fan running, it might be worth considering some kind of ventilation upgrade, HRV or otherwise. Just my two cents… sometimes the upfront pain saves you from bigger headaches down the line.
Yeah, cutting into plaster is basically my version of home improvement roulette—never know if I’m just making a hole or opening up a can of worms. I do hear you about HRVs feeling like overkill sometimes, especially with the price tag and the hassle of retrofitting them into an old house. But honestly, after dealing with rotten window sills in our 1930s place, I’ve become a bit of a ventilation convert.
We used to get condensation every winter, no matter how much we ran the bathroom fan or cracked windows. Tried the cheap fixes—dehumidifiers, extra caulking—but nothing really stuck. Finally bit the bullet and had a small HRV unit put in last year. Not saying it’s perfect (the install was a pain, and it makes this quiet hum I notice at night), but our windows haven’t been fogged up once since. I’d still patch up plaster any day over replacing more window frames...
Guess for me, it’s one of those “pay now or pay more later” things. Still not sure I’d recommend it for every house, but if you’re fighting moisture constantly, it might be worth the pain upfront.
Cutting into plaster always feels like a gamble—sometimes I swear the wall’s about to crumble just from looking at it sideways. I get what you mean about HRVs, though. I put one in my 1940s place and yeah, the install was a headache, but now we’ve got almost zero condensation. The hum is annoying, but not as bad as moldy window frames. If you’re dealing with persistent moisture, it’s probably worth the hassle, even if it’s not exactly cheap or quick.
Yeah, plaster’s always a wild card—sometimes it’s like Swiss cheese under the surface and you don’t know until you’re halfway through. On HRVs, I’ve put in a few for clients with older homes and totally agree: the install can be messy, especially fishing ductwork through lath and plaster. But for moisture control, it’s hard to beat. If you want to keep heat in without jacking up the thermostat, air sealing is just as important. Even a few hours with caulk and weatherstripping around windows and doors can make a real difference. Not as flashy as a new HRV, but way less hassle and cost upfront.
Plaster can definitely keep you guessing—sometimes you open up a wall and it just crumbles, or there’s old repairs hiding who knows what underneath. I’ve run into that plenty when folks want to add HRVs or even just new outlets. You’re right about HRVs being great for moisture though, especially in those drafty old houses that were never really “sealed” in the first place.
But honestly, I think a lot of people overlook how much you can get out of just sealing up the obvious leaks. I did a job last winter where the client was convinced they needed a fancy new ventilation system. Turned out, their back door had a quarter-inch gap at the threshold and every window was leaking air like crazy. We spent an afternoon with caulk guns and some decent weatherstripping, and suddenly their furnace wasn’t kicking on every ten minutes. Not glamorous work, but way more bang for your buck.
I will say though, it’s not always as simple as slapping on some caulk and calling it good. Sometimes you chase one draft only to find out cold air’s sneaking in somewhere else—attic hatches are a big one that gets missed. And if you go overboard with sealing without thinking about ventilation, you can end up with condensation issues or stale air. That’s where something like an HRV actually earns its keep, but yeah… fishing ductwork through lath and plaster is no picnic. I’ve had days where I swear the house is fighting back.
Anyway, nice to see someone else who gets that the little stuff makes a big difference. It’s not always about spending thousands on upgrades—sometimes it’s just paying attention to where the cold air’s getting in and plugging it up. Funny how much quieter the house feels too once those leaks are sealed... almost eerie sometimes.
- Totally agree, sealing up the basics gives a surprising payoff.
- Noticed the same thing with my place—old casement windows, lots of tiny leaks. Some rope caulk and foam gaskets made a bigger dent in the heating bill than I expected.
- You’re right about ventilation, though. I got a bit carried away with weatherproofing one winter and the bathroom mirror started fogging up way more than usual... lesson learned.
- Never realized how much outside noise came through those little gaps either—once they were sealed, it was almost too quiet.
- It’s easy to get tempted by big upgrades, but sometimes the boring fixes really are the smart move.