Postscript to yesterday, and real-estate porn
This afternoon we went to the Crown Hill Value Village, where we found everything we didn't find yesterday, some additional shirts for both of us, and a near-mint set of the Nightmare Before Christmas "Storybook" ornaments, which we're calling an early birthday present for the fanboy. It's really nice to have all of that out of the way.
Before we went there, though, we stopped and looked at this. We drive past this place every time we go up 24th, and were fond of it even before it went on the market. When we saw it was open today, we had to take a gander.
Built in 1910, still has a lot of the original fixtures (including the original boiler, which still works like a champ), and the current owners put a lot of restoration into it. For a century-old place that started as a private home for a relatively well-off family and then progressed through being a speakeay, a flophouse, and a bordello before returning to single-family ownership, it's in very good shape. The wiring isn't perfect and the basement could use some work (mostly in repairing interior walls; the floors are sealed tight), but otherwise it looks good. They've tried to keep with period-appropriate fixtures and decoration wherever they could, albeit filtered through a more modern minimalist sensibility--it's not overdone Edwardian florals and colors, but the metalwork and window treatments are all compatible with the era and with the woodwork and architecture of the house. It was beautiful, calming, and really enjoyable to be inside this place.
I tried really, really hard to play it cool, but the agent still sniffed out my longing like a bloodhound, and we had to dance around a bit to avoid telling him that we were merely sightseeing, because there's absolutely no way in our existing reality that we could afford this place. When we left, Kevin said, "So if we won the lottery on Tuesday, would you buy it?" and I replied, "On the spot." I'm really glad I got to see the inside of it, but I'm sad to know that it's very unlikely something like this will ever be mine.
Now we're home, and I have some work to do and some housework to take care of. Another week starts up again tomorrow.
Before we went there, though, we stopped and looked at this. We drive past this place every time we go up 24th, and were fond of it even before it went on the market. When we saw it was open today, we had to take a gander.
Built in 1910, still has a lot of the original fixtures (including the original boiler, which still works like a champ), and the current owners put a lot of restoration into it. For a century-old place that started as a private home for a relatively well-off family and then progressed through being a speakeay, a flophouse, and a bordello before returning to single-family ownership, it's in very good shape. The wiring isn't perfect and the basement could use some work (mostly in repairing interior walls; the floors are sealed tight), but otherwise it looks good. They've tried to keep with period-appropriate fixtures and decoration wherever they could, albeit filtered through a more modern minimalist sensibility--it's not overdone Edwardian florals and colors, but the metalwork and window treatments are all compatible with the era and with the woodwork and architecture of the house. It was beautiful, calming, and really enjoyable to be inside this place.
I tried really, really hard to play it cool, but the agent still sniffed out my longing like a bloodhound, and we had to dance around a bit to avoid telling him that we were merely sightseeing, because there's absolutely no way in our existing reality that we could afford this place. When we left, Kevin said, "So if we won the lottery on Tuesday, would you buy it?" and I replied, "On the spot." I'm really glad I got to see the inside of it, but I'm sad to know that it's very unlikely something like this will ever be mine.
Now we're home, and I have some work to do and some housework to take care of. Another week starts up again tomorrow.