That's the front of the building, just few doors up from Hoboken's favorite clam house. It's been painted, the interiors renovated, and this morning I met with the inspector to get approval on the condo on the first floor.
A neighbor told me that my apartment used to be occupied by a sweet old couple, who had outdoor furniture out here where they could sit every evening and greet neighbors passing by. It wouldn't take much to put a few plants, cover the garbage cans, put a chair or two or a bench, and set up shop as the neighborhood chatterbox, keeping an eye on the comings and goings.
I'm not moved in yet. But I confess that the kitchen was what won me over to the tiny, 625-sq.-ft. apartment. It may have once been a commercial venture, a little mom-and-pop storefront, but whoever did the renovation knew just what would appeal to me. The whole place centers on that kitchen, not overdone but brought completely up to date, with enough workspace, storage, and all the appliances I could use except maybe for a wine fridge and one of those spiffy new coffeemakers, both of which I can gift to myself as a moving-in present. I admit I've never been a fan of granite countertops, particularly the multicolored, mottled, and always dirty-looking kind, but these are black, and let's face it, you can whack meat with your meat mallet, open jars by slamming them top down (I once broke a jar that way, but never mind), and there are other uses for granite. I can get used to it. I can put a couple of stools at that counter and visitors will have a place to watch me at work.
It's a pleasant little place, with lots of natural light and access to a space in the back yard. Here we're looking out the front way, from the bedroom. The building inspector gave it high marks, so if all goes well I'll close before the end of next month and move in. Wait til you see it with my furniture in it!