A New York Real Estate Memoir

I’ve Moved On, But Here’s a Look Back!

The Beginning

It began with an old 286 computer like this. It was huge. We’d plug in a floppy disk with a mortgage calculating program that would crash the computer every other time we’d run it.

The Search

Apartment hunting was a part-time job. To this day I can walk past buildings on the Upper West Side and remember those long-ago peeks into private lives.

And Now, the Back Story

Covid 19 disrupts the sale schedule of my UWS triplex and throws my youngest’s freshman year in college in the fall of 2020 into limbo. That blows up my plans for the next stage of my life: gypsy empty nester.

(With, of course, a new, and even cozier crash pad here in New York for me and my kids!)

For a moment, I’m stymied. Who knows what will happen? I meet with real estate stagers. I want to hire them but I can’t, yet. But, I can learn from them.

“It’s all about light and space,” says one, speaking through her mask.

I let that sink in.

I channel Marie Kondo. I tune into Andrew Cuomo’s daily press conferences.

And then, without really thinking about it, I start to clean. And unexpected things happen.

But I’m getting a bit ahead of myself here. First, let me tell you about my home, and how it came to be.

It began as a pretty run-down one-bedroom.

Breakfast in the Garden

It’s New York. It’s the end of the 80s. A flight attendant for Continental Airlines sees the writing on the wall for the struggling airline industry and starts a side hustle as a real estate agent.

She digs through the dusty files of the real estate agency she’s working with and finds a one-bedroom in the west 70s that her colleagues have apparently forgotten about or given up on. And she puts a small ad in The New York Times real estate section.

It says:

“Breakfast in the Garden.”

For the whole story, click here and go back to the beginning of the blog posts, please!

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