For some reason that completely escapes me now, I thought it would be punkrock to own a historic Denver square. Location was crucial and we found it in one of the great old streetcar suburb on the Northside, now referred to by gentrifiers as West Highland. The boy commutes to the university by bike, and I wanted quick access to downtown via public transportation. It was now or never to buy our first stand-alone home. We probably overpaid for a turn-of-the-century house that had been quickly revamped by a shady DIY contractor. We were fresh off the boat, new to the city, and in a hurry. We jumped. Without knowing, at all, what we were in for. Dumbfucks.
Here's an advertisement similar to what the original owner probably used to build it.
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| Modern Home No. 52 from the Sears Modern Homes Mail Order Catalog |
UPDATE: Sold it! Thank gawd. We did a ton of work to it (none of which I blogged about because I'm lame) but it reached a breaking point and started driving me batshit crazy. Too big, too much garden maintenance, an odd floor plan, and it never really felt right. The real estate market crashed just after we bought it so we were VERY fortunate to make a profit on it. Its location next to the shops at 32nd & Lowell sold it more than anything. Well, and my super cool decor styling apparently because there was a bidding war and it sold in three days. The winning buyers wanted to buy a bunch of our furniture and our garden stuff and some other odd things, and they wanted us to get the fuck out and QUICK. It was a bit creepy and their broker was an idiot bitch but whatever, they coughed up the cash and who the hell cares. I do hope they're happy with it. Here are all the real estate photos, check out those crazy over-saturated colors.
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