So you'd think that The Princess (me) would like a big mansion with all the upgrades and tons of space.
Frankly, I am scared of big open spaces in the house. What the heck do you do with them? Cartwheel across your living room until you reach the kitchen? I was never that great a gymnastics... I envision the Bruce Wayne manor, with that long table where Bruce (Keaton) is at one end and Vicki Vale (Basinger) is at the other end and there are like 30 chairs between them, and rooms you never go in. Decadent, but vaguely creepy. Once you do have to go in one of those forgotten rooms for something it (either the room or the item, or both) would probably be infested with spiders.
Yesterday we looked at a few more houses. We focused on the east/central side of town.
One house we saw was a undervalued because it was a repossession where the people leaving had taken all the appliances, all the cabinet knobs, and it had no less than 5 paint colors on walls visible from the front entryway. It would be a nice one to fix up. It was 3 blocks from "casual fast" food like Chipotle, a coffee shop and a grocery store. So it had the walking distance thing going for it. The down side (for me) was that the space would all be used up once we were moved in - with only 3 bedrooms we'd have a master bedroom and each of us would get an office (except the dog, but I asked and he was ok with that). There was a small basement and we could finish it, but I think a bedroom would leave the rest of it feeling small. My office would be kick-ass, though, because the rooms were so big.
We looked at another one really close to our coveted Cherry Creek area. Not really walking distance to anything, and it didn't have a real space for 2 offices and had no garage (I hate scraping my windows in the morning -- and I don't even drive to work. See? I am The Princess).
The strangest house we saw had not one, but TWO, workshop areas. There would be a lot of pressure to start learning woodworking, something involving a blow torch and a welding mask, or at least a fancy historical car needing refinishing. But there were lots of places to hang those pictures of curvy chix on motorcycles on the wall. It also had a Mother-in-Law apartment next to one of the workshops. That had a bathtub with a 2-foot ceiling - which would be perfect for washing the dog if your MIL would let you in her apartment.
We saw another one that was move-in ready -- only needed window coverings. That one had a few remodels done to help update it, was open (which seems to be a side effect of tri-levels), had nice neutral tan paint, hardwood floors, updated kitchen, more closets than we currently have. But a dinky master bath with the sinks in the same room as the bed (no real divider). Priced appropriately. In the middle of random suburbia. But minutes from I-25...
So you'd think with as picky as I am, I should get a house in the "being-built" stage so that I could choose the floor plan and the fixtures. EEEEK! That is way too intimidating too. It's way easier to see what didn't work on something that is already done... I would probably pick out Cowboy paint colors, Southwest tile, Ultra-Modern cabinets and antique Asian cabinet handles all for the kitchen. And I would love each item individually so much that I would believe it would "just work" once it was all together so I wouldn't listen to the advice of the expert. Then I would walk into the finished kitchen and exclaim, "What mess of historical eras and cultures threw up to create this kitchen?!?!"
On the up side, I am probably perfect material for one of those DIY-Network shows where they try to help you find the perfect house. And everyone would have great sympathy for my poor Iggy.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Saturday, February 18, 2012
American Dream
We started looking for a new place last weekend.
Ever since I decided to sell my condo and live in sin by moving in with Iggy, I have wanted to sell his place. Maybe not the nicest start to things (hey, I love you, but we have to sell this dump and move). But it was a little bit of the traditional American love story, the American Dream (if you will) to buy a house *together*...
I was sorta reticent to broach the subject, so I've been slowly fixing up the current place. Sorta to make it part "mine" and part in preparation for showing it. I worry sometimes that we might make it too nice and we'll never get to get a new place together.
Somehow the new house bug hit Iggy hard about 2 weeks ago. He started searching Zillow.com and showing me houses on his iPAD during the evenings. Last weekend he came up with a plan to drive buy 6 or 8 of them and canvas the neighborhoods so we could get a feel for how much our money would get us. It was fun, but strangely exhausting. We covered several distinct areas of Denver and the suburbs (Capitol Hill, Cherry Creek, Lowry, Upper Lo-Do, and a couple I don't know the names of). I had to take a nap when we got home.
This weekend Iggy's real estate buddy drove us around to look at the insides of a few of the homes. Surprisingly some of the houses we looked at last weekend had already sold! I thought this was a tough seller's market. But maybe the economy is picking up after all...
At any rate, the inside of the first one (Lowry) was lovely, peaceful, contemporary...and maybe a little too "suburbia" for me. It felt a lot like every other house on the block This isn't bad. It's just part of the atmosphere.
The second house had strange levels (1 step up into the dining room, 1 step down into the kitchen, 1 step up into the family room, etc) and tile on the entire main level. It backed up to an apartment complex where people seemed to be working on their cars and milling about in the parking lot. And it smelled funny to me. We didn't even look at the upstairs or the basement.
The third house was built in 1899 and within blocks of downtown - walking distance to a couple restaurants we've tried and liked, a cool indie grocery/market/butcher shop, Daz Bog, etc. I could already feel my shift to hipster-wannabe starting. It wasn't much more room than we have now and the yard was mostly deck with a token amount of lawn/grass. The master bedroom had a lofted reading nook accessible only via a ladder. Can't decide if that's cool or I'd only use it under duress. It had an older kitchen, but some updates around the house. The current owners were clearly fans of IKEA based on the furnishings and the $3500 gift card offered at closing. The garage would take a 12-point turn for me to get my Subaru Outback station wagon into. (Definitely getting a smaller, hipper car if we move to this one.) The biggest worry was the staircase to the upstairs. Not sure Radar could make it...it's open and twisty (and cool) and wooden (read: slick for dogs whose back legs aren't so good anymore). Guess I'm not ready to be a hipster quite yet. (sigh)
The 4th house was just north of City Park and close to the city golf course. This means it's close to the zoo and the history museum. I pictured myself with a museum membership and walking over on afternoons to browse thorough the latest Paleontology or Egyptology exhibit. Very chic. Very intellectual. (And even healthy since I'm walking.) But it wasn't within walking distance of the museum. And the neighborhood felt like a ghost town, sterile, and vaguely creepy for being so well-kept and respectable on the outside but having no people present or outside on a Saturday afternoon. It was a pop-top but the added 2nd floor was done in the cheapest, most artificial way (loved the bathroom, but the vent looked like someone punched a hole in the wall and covered it with a grate to camouflage it). There was a strange closet in the kitchen where the microwave was housed. Like a mini-pantry, I guess. The downstairs ceiling was low enough that our 6'3" realtor's head touched the top at points. So much for my snooty intellectual dream.
The last house was in Cherry Creek. It turns out it was within walking distance of 3 coffee shops, a deli, and within 7 blocks you start hitting restaurants regularly listed in 5280 magazine. 7 blocks to the Cherry Creek Mall (and movie theater). The house was maybe 5% bigger than our current one (I was hoping for more space and better closets). But! It had several kick-ass features: a fire pit outside on the patio, a walk-in wine cellar, a wet bar downstairs, an awesome kitchen with high-end appliances and a breakfast bar. The master bedroom had dinky closets but a bathroom almost the size of the bedroom itself. It might be hard to fit our furniture and clothes into this space -- granted I do need to get rid of some of my old stuff, so maybe it's not a terrible challenge. The biggest downside was that it back up to a major street (the front is on another street, but the back is on a street that has traffice 24/7). Can we live with the noise to be within blocks of Cherry Creek, the Cherry Creek Arts Festival, etc?
Who knew the American Dream was so picky? Or maybe that's just me...
Ever since I decided to sell my condo and live in sin by moving in with Iggy, I have wanted to sell his place. Maybe not the nicest start to things (hey, I love you, but we have to sell this dump and move). But it was a little bit of the traditional American love story, the American Dream (if you will) to buy a house *together*...
I was sorta reticent to broach the subject, so I've been slowly fixing up the current place. Sorta to make it part "mine" and part in preparation for showing it. I worry sometimes that we might make it too nice and we'll never get to get a new place together.
Somehow the new house bug hit Iggy hard about 2 weeks ago. He started searching Zillow.com and showing me houses on his iPAD during the evenings. Last weekend he came up with a plan to drive buy 6 or 8 of them and canvas the neighborhoods so we could get a feel for how much our money would get us. It was fun, but strangely exhausting. We covered several distinct areas of Denver and the suburbs (Capitol Hill, Cherry Creek, Lowry, Upper Lo-Do, and a couple I don't know the names of). I had to take a nap when we got home.
This weekend Iggy's real estate buddy drove us around to look at the insides of a few of the homes. Surprisingly some of the houses we looked at last weekend had already sold! I thought this was a tough seller's market. But maybe the economy is picking up after all...
At any rate, the inside of the first one (Lowry) was lovely, peaceful, contemporary...and maybe a little too "suburbia" for me. It felt a lot like every other house on the block This isn't bad. It's just part of the atmosphere.
The second house had strange levels (1 step up into the dining room, 1 step down into the kitchen, 1 step up into the family room, etc) and tile on the entire main level. It backed up to an apartment complex where people seemed to be working on their cars and milling about in the parking lot. And it smelled funny to me. We didn't even look at the upstairs or the basement.
The third house was built in 1899 and within blocks of downtown - walking distance to a couple restaurants we've tried and liked, a cool indie grocery/market/butcher shop, Daz Bog, etc. I could already feel my shift to hipster-wannabe starting. It wasn't much more room than we have now and the yard was mostly deck with a token amount of lawn/grass. The master bedroom had a lofted reading nook accessible only via a ladder. Can't decide if that's cool or I'd only use it under duress. It had an older kitchen, but some updates around the house. The current owners were clearly fans of IKEA based on the furnishings and the $3500 gift card offered at closing. The garage would take a 12-point turn for me to get my Subaru Outback station wagon into. (Definitely getting a smaller, hipper car if we move to this one.) The biggest worry was the staircase to the upstairs. Not sure Radar could make it...it's open and twisty (and cool) and wooden (read: slick for dogs whose back legs aren't so good anymore). Guess I'm not ready to be a hipster quite yet. (sigh)
The 4th house was just north of City Park and close to the city golf course. This means it's close to the zoo and the history museum. I pictured myself with a museum membership and walking over on afternoons to browse thorough the latest Paleontology or Egyptology exhibit. Very chic. Very intellectual. (And even healthy since I'm walking.) But it wasn't within walking distance of the museum. And the neighborhood felt like a ghost town, sterile, and vaguely creepy for being so well-kept and respectable on the outside but having no people present or outside on a Saturday afternoon. It was a pop-top but the added 2nd floor was done in the cheapest, most artificial way (loved the bathroom, but the vent looked like someone punched a hole in the wall and covered it with a grate to camouflage it). There was a strange closet in the kitchen where the microwave was housed. Like a mini-pantry, I guess. The downstairs ceiling was low enough that our 6'3" realtor's head touched the top at points. So much for my snooty intellectual dream.
The last house was in Cherry Creek. It turns out it was within walking distance of 3 coffee shops, a deli, and within 7 blocks you start hitting restaurants regularly listed in 5280 magazine. 7 blocks to the Cherry Creek Mall (and movie theater). The house was maybe 5% bigger than our current one (I was hoping for more space and better closets). But! It had several kick-ass features: a fire pit outside on the patio, a walk-in wine cellar, a wet bar downstairs, an awesome kitchen with high-end appliances and a breakfast bar. The master bedroom had dinky closets but a bathroom almost the size of the bedroom itself. It might be hard to fit our furniture and clothes into this space -- granted I do need to get rid of some of my old stuff, so maybe it's not a terrible challenge. The biggest downside was that it back up to a major street (the front is on another street, but the back is on a street that has traffice 24/7). Can we live with the noise to be within blocks of Cherry Creek, the Cherry Creek Arts Festival, etc?
Who knew the American Dream was so picky? Or maybe that's just me...
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