Tonight met a woman who owns her own remodeling business. She's an older woman, loves Chicago, raised in Rogers Park , the neighborhood I'm moving to.
We walked into the place, and she said, "Oh this is adorable. I love the older buildings. They have so much charm." Kept telling me what I good buy I'd made, and how the neighborhood was really coming up, and how lucky I was to be on the lake. I could tell she was sincere, so it made me feel good.
She wasn't a whole lot of help as fas as electrical; the one guy she uses for that is not licensed, and I need someone licensed for the kinds of things I'd like done. I have a reference from my agent, so I'll call them tomorrow. She will give me a quote for having the bedroom stripped and repainted. She also gave me the name of a floor guy. All in all, she really wasn't the one-stop resource I'd expected, but she was fun to talk to.
After she left I took some more measurements, and finally started to get excited. She kept commenting that it felt like home, and it really does. I've even come to see the cramped kitchen as a blessing: I can prepare an entire meal by just swiveling around.