The real beauty of this trip was that, instead of the overcast skies that covered our tracks during our earlier covert penetration, it was gloriously sunny out, and so I got a little bit of a sense of the light streaming through all those windows.
Because I’m a little slow, it took me a few minutes to realize that one of the reasons the place looked so great was that it had been cleaned up a bit in advance of my arrival. Witness the kitchen, which was pretty much cleaner than the kitchen of the place I now live in:
So where do you hide the dirt when there are no rugs to sweep it under and no closet doors behind which it can be concealed? On the balcony:
Over the pile of crap on the balcony, though, one could begin to get a sense of the view; directly across the street from me is the City Yard (that’s what everybody calls it; if it’s got a more particular name, nobody’s letting on), which is going to be cleared out in the next couple of months in order to make way for Phase 2 of Village Walk, which will include a few more buildings’ worth of townhouses and some single-family homes. Nothing going in across the street should be taller than two stories, though, so my view of the mountains should, with any luck, remain at least partially intact.
Oddly, the best view of the mountains currently available is from the window of the master bedroom closet:
Anyhow, it was a lovely and worthwhile walk-through; I got to make sure that all the electrical outlets were where I expected them to be, and finally got a sense of the rooms as rooms.
That same day, R. and I drove down to Anaheim to visit the granite yard. Now, I had entirely the wrong idea about what this trip to the granite yard would entail. I imagined trudging through the hot, dusty afternoon, surrounded by big piles of stone from which I would carefully select.
Instead, the place was much, much cleaner, and far more inside than I expected it to be. The young woman who helped us–imagine a younger, shorter Tina Fey–asked us to wait a few minutes while she went to get a forklift, and then disappeared into the warehouse. I now crave an excuse to say that to someone–“Wait here while I get a forklift.”
Anyhow, Tina pulled out three slabs of granite, from which I was assuming I would select. Instead, these were my three slabs, from which, pending my approval, the three sections of my countertop will be cut.
The granite we’ve selected was, in the sample, mostly black with some lighter green and gold flecking; in actuality, it’s a fair bit lighter than that, but in a good way. As Tina told us, “it’s coming out of the mountain pretty green.” And that just seems a bit hard to argue with; anything that comes out of the mountain ought, be definition, to be good.
The color, incidentally, is called Ubatuba. Which I half selected just because I like saying it.
Oh, yes, and the third development? Earlier that day, while on the walkthrough with the construction manager, I found out that there’s not a chance the place is going to be ready before February. Which leads me to suspect that the weekly condo-blogging may have to become bi-weekly, or even monthly, if the pictures are going to reveal any progress whatsoever.