Homeowners

This fall my husband and I bought our first home together--an old loft apartment on a quiet, tree-lined street in Chelsea. After looking at apartments for nearly a year, we fell in love with the high ceilings, massive windows, and open spaces. With both of us standing tall--I'm 6 ft and he's 6'3"--we dug the "cubage" (my new favorite word) of this place. The square footage was good too--it was big enough for us to stay there for a while. The place had character--the building was over 100 years old and had a beautiful stone facade, pretty old moldings in the lobby, and only 12 floors, with one or two apartments on each floor. It wasn't too huge. Maybe there would even be some semblance of community? One can dare to dream, right?

The location rocked. It was close to Union Square's green market and great Chelsea restaurants, blocks from all the right subway stations, and as an added bonus--it was walking distance (and I'm talking a just a few blocks) from both of our offices. In fact, had we plotted the point equidistant from our two places of work--it just may have been this building.

I will spare you the details of the buying process, but after being in the NYC housing hunt for a while--we knew that with a place like this we'd have to act quickly. Our initial visits was followed by two quick follow up visits and then we made an offer. Drama ensued: Counter offer. We held our ground. Offer accepted. Mystery man swoops in out of nowhere with higher offer. (This seems to happen all the time in New York.) Panic. Mystery man swoops out of the picture. Phew. Contract signed.

We were going to be homeowners. For real.

The pictures below are from the broker's site and were taken by a professional photographer.




The main living room.




The TV area. Don't you love the tree! A leafy view--somewhat of a rarity in NYC.




Kids room. We got excited about the closest space.



The master bedroom. Which technically cannot be called a bedroom because it's interior (ie no windows).