Our House at the end of our Street (III)

The continuing saga of our house goes as follows: After we finally managed to persuade the previous owner to part with the building, our next challenge was to 'oust' the two tenants on the first floor (hereinafter known as Weirdo #1 and Weirdo #2). Their sole possessions consisted of two mattresses, two computers, a shotgun, and a cat with elephantitis of the cajones. Over the years, it had just simply lifted its tail and sprayed. The next order of business for us - at this point un-jaded and not yet cynical - was to paint the two drawing rooms and the diningroom (the kitchen we would tackle later.) But, ridding the house of its odor (thanks to Weirdo #1, Weirdo #2 and Mr. Balls) would prove to be the most difficult. Thankfully, when the aforementioned duo went to jail for fraud, the odor finally went away. It is not known where Mr. Balls ended up...

Our House at the end of our Street (V)

The entrance hall has seen it all. Funny stories abound about the house from all and sundry who have had the fortune (or misfortune) to make its acquaintance. One such story involved a tenant who, obviously in need of some quick cash, hooked up a hose pipe to the washing machines in the basement, fed the pipe through the window, and started his own make-shift car-wash on the corner. Nice! I am sure the previous owner was thrilled to receive the water bill. Indeed, when I first pressed my nose up against the glass panels of the front door, the first thing that struck me were the mirrors, followed, very quickly, by a shock of outlandish wallpaper. Trés bordello-chic. I had two choices. Get rid of the wallpaper. Or consider an alternative career as a Madame. Did Oscar Wilde not once proclaim, "Either that wall paper goes, or I do?" So all that remains today is one square meter, in homage to the original owner, a wallpaper merchant...

Note the hideous '70's closet built under the staircase.

The careful removal of the wallpaper, revealing that the plaster beneath was surprising in tact. Also, note the maroon carpet on the treads...

Post closet-removal, revealing another layer of wallpaper. Luckily the mosaic floor was more or less pristine after the demolition.

Removing the maroon carpet was a massive task. Especially getting all the giant nails up, removing the paint and goo, and then hand-sanding each tread and riser.

Pretty afternoon light reflection from the leaded glass fanlight above the front door...

The finished project (is it ever quite finished, though?)

Our House at the end of our Street (XI)

I realized when reading my post from yesterday... that it erred slightly on the side of being random (given the image and the writing didn't quite correlate). Put it down to zero sleep and beside-myself-anxiety about the impending box 'n pack. Well, the packers arrived this morning in the teeniest truck I have ever seen... literally out of a scene from Noddy. I thought Big-ears may emerge and as I was about to simply faint in front of the foreman, he assured me that today was all about packing and wrapping. Tomorrow would focus on LOADING and then the mother of all trucks would dwarf the road. 

Alrighty then... as I ingest my 17th Advil to alleviate a packing-tape-being-pulled-and-snapped-induced migraine... and pour myself a G&T.

Couldn't have been nicer. Back again tomorrow.

Earnestly contemplating tissue paper for yet ANOTHER breakable

Not the clearest image, but look... boxes with legs and the red carpet.

This is the last night in our dear old dame (house). While she isn't photo-worthy this evening (will post the last few pics next week), here is a GORGEOUS vintage image of my Mount Vernon...

Not sure of the origin or date of this photograph (possibly via The Library of Congress)

Our House at the end of our Street (Finale)

After months of cleaning, packing and prep, Settlement Day was finally upon us (Settlement Day, like D-Day, is being written in caps due to the monumentality of occasion in my head). We arrived at the empty house only to find that our names had been removed from the mailbox by the mailman. "Indignant" is an understatement, but then it dawned on me. "Let it go. Relinquish the reins. Cede. Surrender and yield" (battle terminology courtesy of the above-mentioned D-Day analogy).

So hard.

I had a tome planned for the final posting on this particular house... but it became so maudlin, sentimental, I thought I would spare you. However, I do feel like I have lost a limb.

It has been said that...

You never really leave a place or person you love, part of them you take with you, leaving a part of yourself behind.

MMXIV

No one likes goodbyes. Least of all me. But after 670 posts, I have decided to call it quits. And what a journey it has been. Together we have travelled to the four corners of the globe, uncovering architectural gems. Voyeuristically peeking through cracks and crevices, into windows and behind doors, all to find the illusive phenomenon known as Style.

To ring in 2014, here are fourteen of my favourite and more personal postings:

1. The Legacy of Utata Mandela (here)
2. Alphaville on the Esplanade (here)
3. Chandler House (here)
4. By the Rivers of Babylonstoren (here)
5. S.O.S. (here)
6. Three months in Cape Town: A Snapshot (here)
7. Our House at the End of our Street: Finale (here... and more here)
8. Searching for Sugar Man - Tribeca, New York (here)
9. New Year's Eve: Seen and Heard at the Stork Club (here)
10. Passage to Africa III - Stowe (Part I) (here)
11. In the Ring with Brooklyn Circus (here)
12. On Location: B'More (here)
13. My husband said I should call this Buying at Brimfield with my Husband's Money (here)
14. Quagga (here)

To all those who journeyed with me and offered input and appreciation, thank you and an enormously happy 2014.

*

Here is my last and final posting. My home in Cape Town...

Our House at the end of our Street

Unashamedly self-indulgent, I know - I am starting a new regular posting. A pictorial catalogue of my (our) house. Clearly, the house was a little annoyed with me this week (probably for not paying enough attention), so it and the main sewer line struck a deal. A flash flood of raw sewerage in the basement necessitated calling in the big guns (AKA Baltimore City department officials) AND, naturally my husband was on the west coast. The crap-whisperer triumphed. So, photographs of dry happy places it is... to abate-the-hate and forget the entire Mount Vepoopius/Flushing Meadows incident ever occurred...

Front drawing room - mirror and mantle detail

Our House at the end of our Street (VIII)

What do you get when you combine a terrarium and a kitchen? Sheer bliss. This is our favorite room in the house: our kitchen. Yet, when we bought our home in 2005, it was not fit for consumption. Fast-forward two years - floor-to-ceiling windows were installed to replace floor-to-ceiling vinyl (the latter being responsible for instant indigestion). And not a minute too soon. Today, this is where we eat, cook and do homework, plus discuss the day's trials and tribulations while enjoying a slightly voyeuristic view of the urban promenade...

And two gratuitous views into the dining-room, as the light was perfect....

Our House at the end of our Street (X)

Casual Thursday. A practically impromptu spring lunch. Just before everyone arrived, I snapped a few pics. In the background, are two of the panels that make up the gorgeous triptych given to me by the extraordinary David Wiesand. These depict the E. Sachse & Co. lithograph of Mount Vernon Place and the Washington Monument (circa 1850) - in the Baltimore neighborhood I have been living in for the past seven years. What a wonderful reminder they will be of my talented friend, and my beloved 'hood'...

Our House at the end of our Street (VII)

My poor long-suffering desk literally groans with the weight of knickknacks and baubles. So much for me ever doing any productive work there. Instead, my computer is constantly on my lap contributing to varicose veins and lack of circulation. And don't even mention the dusting...

I must say I am feeling particularly nostalgic and sentimental about the house, as it is on the market. So, snapped these photographs (in a frenzy, lest I forget an inch) over the weekend in varying degrees of light...