When I was young, my father got this crazy idea to buy an old abandoned school building in rural Iowa, and renovate it into a home. When he took the family to check it out, we saw that it was a squat brick building in the middle of a tumbleweed-strewn dirt prairie, surrounded by discarded washing machines and cars on blocks. My mom threatened on the spot to divorce him, he caved, and ever since we’ve thought back on the incident as “Dad’s wacky little crisis.” But seeing this Edmonds School condo makes me think that we were wrong, and that he actually did have a vision. And now I’m wondering if, years from now, I’ll look back and think the same thing about the firing range he’s constructed in the basement out of decades of old phone books. (Probably not.)
The school idea, though, that was a solid idea. Next to factories, schools have the best “old bones” for potential homes; high ceilings, big rooms, tons of windows. Who cares if tens of thousands of dreams were slowly suffocated here by hundreds of hours of brute repetition? (Actually, there could be some nice ironic symmetry there if a married couple moved in.) Yeah but seriously, check out this impeccable restored brickwork. It’s timeless and substantial, like the works of M. Night Shyamalan, but the total opposite. The main living area sports twenty foot ceilings with exposed wood beams above, for a nice “Canadian hunting lodge” vibe, and the oversized schoolhouse windows admit so much merciless natural light that unless you’re wearing full makeup, people are going to be like, “are you tired? You look tired.” The huge gourmet kitchen sports stainless steel Bosch appliances, and quartz counters; I could make a bunch of stuff up right here about how quartz counters have “great polarity” or are “geologically exotic” or whatever, but instead I’ll just say that their main selling point is that they allow you to feel superior to people with plain ol’ marble counters. (They do look nice too, though.)
The master bedroom is located upstairs, in a loft with plaster walls (brick looks nice but you can literally feel the cold emanating from it in the winter) – from up here you can look way down into the main level of the unit. If you invested in some decent binoculars, you could pretend to go to bed early and then capture your significant other’s email and phone passwords from above. Who knows what you’ll find? (We all know what you’ll find.) The master bath sports twin basins (with Waterworks fixtures) and a glass-walled shower, because who needs privacy when you’re at your most vulnerable? Outside, there’s a long wooden deck with a gas grill and a lounge area so you can have friends over on Sundays for day-drinking, i.e. ordering pizza at like 2:30 PM and falling deeply asleep before it arrives. The unit also comes with assigned parking, and there’s a nice bike storage rack next to the building so the bike thieves can efficiently get all the bikes at once.
All in all, a very appealing place. But is there something fishy going on with it? Maybe. The website for the development is dead, and the listing says “all offers considered.” Maybe it’s just a motivated seller, or maybe someone owes the Albanian mafia a bunch of gambling debts. Either way, you could get a deal. Also, if “all offers are considered,” I’ve got a brown paper sack with $3500 in it right here on my desk, seller; get in touch if you don’t get any better offers.
901 D Street NE #206
2 Bedrooms, 2.5 Baths
All photos courtesy MRIS; listing courtesy of Keller Williams, 202-243-7700