We’ve had a holiday hiatus, and then some. And, while we’re back, we are going to shift away from the SoMoToHo for this post and talk about a new project, one I’m calling LOAP Alpha. The picture above is a charming colonial building in Alexandria, Virginia that is showing a bit of wear. It’s a reminder that sometimes you have to look beyond the wear and visualize the potential.

Debra and I have formed a company with our dear friends Michael and Lacey Perkins, the purpose of which will be to find properties that have been distressed, abused, neglected, and forsaken but still have the potential to be wonderful homes. We’re calling the company LOAP Enterprises, LLC. Although “LOAP” is an acronym that can stand for many things, I think of it as “Limitless Opportunities Always Present.” Other, less lofty components might be “Living On A Prayer” or “Lipstick On A Pig.” Go ahead – let your imagination run amok.

We’ve selected the first LOAP property. Here it is:

It’s a HUD foreclosure as a result of a reverse mortgage. I’ll spare you the soapbox rant about the dangers of reverse mortgages. The neighbors report that the most recent occupant was a hoarder with a fondness for cats. It smells like scores of them have left their mark. We’ll need enzymatic cleaners to deal with the stench.

We can’t figure out why someone would install a window in this manner. Maybe they ran out of brick. It will make enlarging the window easier, though.

This is the wall in the living room on the other side of the exterior, attached planter. This termite damage is old – our exterminator says probably 15 or 20 years – and there is no current insect activity. But how did someone live with this for that long? Obviously, all of the sheet rock on this wall will have to go to determine structural integrity.

That’s Pergo on the floor. It’s not in terrible shape (particularly as compared to the carpeting in the bedrooms that you’ll see in a minute) but the cat-pee stench will necessitate that all of the flooring be yanked, chipped, and scraped up so that the foundation can be treated with enzymatic cleaner and sealed.

Tile in the kitchen and more Pergo in the dining area. Again, none of it salvageable, even if we wanted to (which we don’t – at all).

Yeah – that’s a closet in the dining area. I wasted a few minutes trying to figure out why but gave up. Really don’t care.

Before going into the rest of the house, let’s take a look out back.

The cover over the porch is low and looming, inducing a claustrophobic unease. If you’ve followed us at all, you know that Debra is huge on light. This thing won’t last long.

Going back inside, someone apparently tried to cheer things up with a really hideous shade of blue in the first bedroom.

The effort was doomed to failure, given the state of the carpet.

And that oh-so-lovely carpet didn’t fare any better in the second bedroom:

Ingenuity, I guess, on display in the main bath.

As well as the latest in lighting fashion.

We wouldn’t try to save any of this bathroom, anyway, but the following pic illustrates just how bad things got in this poor house.

The master bath – small, but typical of late ’40s architecture – actually is one of the most presentable rooms in the house, despite the tile color and obvious repair efforts.

The garage needs new doors and cosmetics but the walls are sound. No structural problems to rectify.

To really get an idea of how disgusting this place was, just look at this wall in the dining area:

But, hey! It has a heart on the door! That makes it all good, right?

We can fix this; we really can. Debra has the vision. And Michael, Lacey, and I have the will and the energy. We’ll tear away the wretched and scrub away the filth and make this place shine. You just see if we don’t.

I hope you’ll keep coming back for more adventures in transformation, both at LOAP Alpha and at the SoMoToHo. We love having you along for the ride!