All I wanted to do was replace the trim. I Swear.

It was, by far, the worst trimwork in the house. The tiny victorianish casing was comical at best. And like the whore who worked Redbud Lane, it screamed "I ain't pretty but I'm cheap and get the job done." Which, for a closet window, is totally acceptable. If this re-renovation wasn't happening, I'd have been fine with it to stay. In fact, to this point I hadn't even seriously thought about who to blame for this sad, sad trimwork. Was it the flippers or the pre-flip owner, Louisiana Sam? 

I was lucky enough to come across about 50 pictures of the house pre-flip. So now whenever I find yet another incredibly poorly planned, poorly executed repair job, I go back to the pictures to see if I should laugh or scream. See, if I know the owner, Louisiana Sam, did it I laugh because the guy was apparently as earnest about the renovations as he was unqualified to do them and was completely unaware he was ruining the house. Plus, similar to the bond shared between people who went to parochial school , anyone who lived in the neighborhood when Louisiana Sam lived here has a story about him. So I can't be completely upset by a guy who unknowingly brought a neighborhood together. 

But the flippers... The flippers knew better. And when it's their work I'm fixing, I scream. Since we had the woodwork and the room was still empty, I decided to do the window. Which made me finally wonder who to blame. So I went back to the pre-flip pictures. (the red outline is my doing showing the current location of the master closet)  And there, in a picture of what used to be a huge L-shaped room that Louisiana Sam created by combining two rooms, is that window, chintzy casing and all. Oh, Sam.  (I outlined the current master closet in red)

I take the 3 screws out that had been holding the casing on (and, no, he didn't try to hide the fact that it was all held together by screws) and discover that the sides of the window bay, which should be wood, are drywalled. No biggee. I've got some extra maple plywood I can replace it with. 

The funny part is that after I removed the shitty drywall window sides, I discover the first good renovation work I've yet to see of Sam's. He built out the wall with 2x4s and insulated pretty much exactly the same way we have. Except he actually went a step further and added a vapor barrier. I was slightly impressed. I'm also going to replace the window stool so I can make it match the original windows. So I take off the two pieces of wood that Sam had used as a stool and, not surprisingly, discover the original stool underneath. (when you build out a wall, you essentially have to replace or cover the window stool anyway, so, again, no biggee) 

But then something catches my eye. There's a small gap between the old window stool and the 2x4 wall in front or it. I look down into the gap and under the window stool isn't brick or plaster. It's completely intact wood paneling. I make the decision that the drywall in front of it has to come out and the paneling incorporated into the new window casing. I try to be super gentle and careful to remove the paneling but discover pretty fast that the whole thing is held to the window with just two nails and the panel itself is so well built that it holds together like a rock after I take it out. In the end, I decided to strip the paint so it would be as crisp looking as the rest of the wood. Two days later and the chintziest little window is now the fanciest closet window on the street. (allegedly)