My family has strong ties to California's history before and during the time it became part of the United States. Some family members were part of the Anza Expedition that came to California in 1777; others were members of the first successful wagon train to cross the Sierra Nevada in 1844. Most of them settled in the Santa Clara Valley. I grew up on family stories about these early pioneers, such as Great-uncle Bernard Murphy who served as San Jose mayor and helped establish Lick Observatory. Great-grandfather Martin Murphy provided the land where Santa Clara University was built. In Almaden, Great-grandfather Charlie Hoffman was mining superintendent of the Quicksilver mines during the 1850s. His wife, Fermina, would gild the horses' hooves in preparation for his return from the mines to his San Jose home. On her trips out to the mines, she would hide gold she was transporting under her hoop skirt so if bandits stopped the stagecoach, the loot would be difficult to find.

Naturally, I grew up with an appreciation for the past, including old homes.

Since purchasing my home in September, I can say maintaining an older home is truly a labor of love.

For me, the labor began on Day One. Finding a pre-World War II home is difficult--especially if you're looking for one that is well maintained and has retained much of its original character. Many homes along the Peninsula weren't even built until the 1950s and 1960s when towns began to develop out of former fruit orchards.

I scoured Willow Glen and the Rose Garden neighborhoods for months looking for a house that fit my criteria. Both neighborhoods had the charm that I was looking for.

I looked at dozens: many with sloped and sagging floors, closets converted into bathrooms, odd and illegal additions, and cracked fireplaces. Others exuded charm and character on the outside but lacked any interior details from the era in which they were built because they had been extensively remodeled and upgraded.

Anything built before 1920 was either too run-down, out of my budget or on sketchy-looking streets. I finally decided to look at post-1920 but pre-1940 homes and eventually found my bungalow.

The home has wonderful details and history. My home has a larger-than-typical dining room and a full basement. French doors in the living room and dining room, leaded glass windows on the front door, built-in cabinets, original glass door knobs and a laundry chute from the master bedroom to the back porch were among the details that caught my eye.

An Italian family accustomed to having Sunday meals with all their relatives built the home. That explains the large formal dining area. They made wine in the basement during Prohibition.

Reveling in those stories makes it easier to overlook the things I sacrificed to have a home that came with a history.

Older homes tend to have smaller closets, fewer bathrooms, less insulation and other oddities. I settled for one bathroom, no walk-in closets and electrical wiring that looks like Ben Franklin installed it himself.

I've discovered that simple upgrades, such as replacing a lighting fixture, are more difficult in my home. There is no utility box and the old fixtures are connected to wires drilled directly through a beam.

I had difficulty obtaining house insurance because of the knob-and-tubing wiring. Not all of the wiring is on a circuit breaker. Smaller companies would not insure the home with such outdated wiring. I had to bolt the foundation under new regulations before I could finalize the insurance.

Even with those headaches, I wouldn't trade my home or neighborhood for anyplace else.