And I’m really not kidding about the tar-paper-and-chicken-wire thing, though it’s a bit hard to see in the photos.
I took a billion–or maybe a dozen–more pictures of the exterior of the building, but I think you’ve got the basic sense of it. The important stuff came after these images, though, when R. and I executed a small covert maneuver called Operation Wallboard, a quick and dirty penetration of the condo’s heretofore unphotographed interior. I bring you word of the condo’s imminent liberation from the forces of chaos! The structures of democracy (or, at least, walls) are being erected everywhere!
I tire of this thoroughly silly metaphor. To the pictures: first, the second-floor landing. The entrance to the condo is on the ground floor, but the condo itself is on the third, so I’ve got two flights of stairs with a lovely landing inbetween, a landing large enough for a small workspace, or, alternately, a litter box:
Upon turning the corner from the stairs into the condo proper, the kitchen is on your left. The mysterious arm and shoulder at far right belong to R.:
Directly ahead is the living area:
And to the right is the dining area:
Between the kitchen and the living area is the entrance to the hallway, and dead ahead on that hallway is the master bedroom, which has perhaps the best walk-in closet ever:
The master bedroom itself isn’t too shabby, either:
The hallway takes a left turn at the master bedroom —
— and continues on to the spare bedroom —
— and the hall bath.
And that’s pretty much it. Except for the garage, which is enormous and lovely:
All that preparation for covert action turns out to have been unnecessary, however, as I got a call from the contractor this morning asking me to come in and do a walk-through to make sure they’ve got all the options right. I like to think, however, that our undercover operations laid the groundwork that has made such a turn to openness possible.