While preparing for today’s special section on home improvement, I’ve been thinking about my past domiciles — they’d been called everything from a dorm room on steroids to a health hazard, depending on how much my friends knew about the place.

I rent as cheap as possible since I only go home to sleep and read a bit before bed. Why shell out cash to rent space I won’t use, when that money could go toward rodeo entry fees, traveling, scoring extra tacos and whatever shiny toys Apple cranks out?

I used to live in a duplex in Bigfork, Montana, that was very well insulated and as close to air-tight as possible. This was great in the winter since it didn’t take much to keep the place warm.

But the bathroom’s steam vent was set up wrong. Instead of blowing steam outside, it pumped all of that moisture throughout the vents in my ceiling.

Meanwhile, I’d kept my curtains closed for the winter and additional mold had grown so thick around the windows that each spray from a bleach bottle created a disturbingly loud sizzle.

I may have significantly shortened my life expectancy by living there; but on the positive side, I learned how to make a homemade gas mask using a 2-liter soda bottle, some paper towels and vinegar.

It took about four bottles of bleach spray to take care of all the mold growing around each of the windows. Meanwhile, my ceiling was gutted and the entire ventilation system was redone by my landlord.

Within a month of completing the project, I felt more energetic and the house returned to its rightful stench of stale gym socks and cigars.

I also lived in a ranch house in south Texas for a very short time. I can put up with a lot, but mass infestations of large scorpions of Biblical proportions is where I draw the line.

The occasional encounter with a 6-foot rattler is OK, but scorpion companions in the restroom is a no-go. I promptly hightailed it back to Wyoming shortly afterward.

Prior to moving to Powell, I lived in an old house in Rock Springs that was originally built for 19th century miners. I was about a foot too tall for the shower, but aside from that, the place seemed perfect upon the initial tour.

Then I did my first load of laundry and discovered the house came with an indoor geiser. Dirty laundry water shot up from the drain with enough force to reach the ceiling and drench the kitchen.

I was too distracted by this majestic water show to realize that the nearby kitchen sink was filling with backflow from the pipes — a gritty black sludge combined with additional dirty laundry water.

My landlord had recently inherited the house and had no idea this problem existed. We came to find out the pipes for the house were far too narrow to handle a washing machine, or to run more than one faucet at a time.

So, for the remainder of my tenure, I would stand by the washing machine and listen to that familiar gurgle from the pipes, open the machine and let the pipes catch up. A typical load of laundry needed to be paused eight times to prevent Old Faithful from erupting.

Another fun surprise came from a familiar foe — mold. This time, it was lack of insulation that was the problem, but the outcome was the same moldy issue I’d experienced before.

Single-pane windows in old drafty frames built up a layer of ice approximately 2 inches thick at the base and climbed to the top of each 6-foot window. Melting the ice required every towel I owned, and preventing it from forming required a sheet of heavy duty plastic to create a buffer zone between the interior and exterior.

The plastic was constantly dripping wet with condensation, and so were the walls — apparently due to lack of insulation.

Anything that touched them was dampened and the condensation dripped down to the molding and floorboards. Over time, the molding molded and in particularly bad spots such as behind the couch, it literally crumbled.

So, it was back to my old friend, bleach, to spray the outer-rim of each room on a monthly basis.

Now in Powell, I’m renting an apartment from the Bennions and for the first time since finishing school I live somewhere with vents that work right, dry walls and double-paned windows, and everything that’s outside stays outside.

This is the first time in recent years I’ve lived somewhere that can’t be described as a health hazard, thanks to it being well-built and maintained.