“There are rich wood cabinets, a marble-topped island, and stainless steel appliances, including the ubiquitous double ovens, which I’m convinced exist because french fries bake for 10 minutes at 350 and fish sticks bake for 12 minutes at 375 and literally no one on earth aside from maybe Stephen Hawking can figure out what temperature you can cook them together at, and for how long, especially when you’re drunk, which is the only time you ever want to cook fish sticks and french fries.”

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If you’ve ever fantasized about living in an episode of “Wolf Hall” or “Downton Abbey,” this stunning Georgian is absolutely the closest you’re going to get in the District.  This house would look right at home in the rolling English countryside, though it’s possible that it’s too classy.  I mean, just look at it.  I’d feel obligated to put on my top hat and monocle just to take a sack of rotting melon rinds out to the trashcan.

It’s just as appealing inside.  You enter into a huge foyer that’s bigger than many Manhattan apartments.  The living room is spacious and bright, with an antique fireplace, and the formal dining room could accommodate way more people than you would ever actually want to have over for dinner, unless you’re collecting a cover charge or something.  There’s also a huge wall of windows that look out onto the grounds, so you can keep an eye out for sod thieves while you eat.  Further on is the crown jewel of the house – a massive solarium with a curved, 180-degree wall of windows.  If you took an early afternoon hangover nap in this solarium, you’d be cozier than a tinfoil-wrapped hot dog in the oven.  I’d be tempted to make this my bedroom, except that at night it’d be impossible to know if the neighbors were crouched just on the other side of the glass, spying on you.  Well, except for the sound of their dry-heaving when I got undressed.  (What do you mean I should wash these boxers, I’ve only turned them inside out three times so far!)

The kitchen is painted a super-chill, sort of tropical yellow, and was designed by Lobkovich, which is the sort of factoid everyone responds to by nodding knowingly and saying “yes, of course,” even though 95% of them have never heard of Lobkovich.  (Have I heard of Lobkovich?  *Nods* “Yes, of course.”)  There are rich wood cabinets, a marble-topped island, and stainless steel appliances, including the ubiquitous double ovens, which I’m convinced exist because french fries bake for 10 minutes at 350 and fish sticks bake for 12 minutes at 375 and literally no one on earth aside from maybe Stephen Hawking can figure out what temperature you can cook them together at, and for how long, especially when you’re drunk, which is the only time you ever want to cook fish sticks and french fries.  Upstairs, the master bedroom is so nice that it made me loudly exclaim, “hooooooo-ee!” like a Nascar driver played by Jeff Foxworthy, much to the embarrassment of my girlfriend.  It gets great natural light filtering in, and there’s a fireplace that you can hurl your alarm clock into when you wake up in a really foul mood, i.e. any weekday morning other than Friday.  The master bath sports twin basins, a large soaking tub, and plenty of floor-to-ceiling mirrors so you can start each morning squinting angrily at your own crusty-eyed Spongebob-pajama-pants-wearing reflection.   Your day can only go up from there.

Each of the six bedrooms is painted a different color, from slate gray to lime green to yellow to the exact shade of rich Pepto Bismol-ish pink that they use on the walls of prison hospitals to calm the violently disturbed.  (I know this because my bedroom in my apartment is painted the exact same shade.  I’m sort of puzzled that this color is so widespread;  is it a coincidence or are tons of parents like, “well, it works on a raving psychopath, let’s see if it does anything to my shrieking, crayon-eating six year old?”)  Outside, the front of the house is dominated by a huge, rolling lawn – it’s a corner lot, so it’s huge even by neighborhood standards – and in back is a large flagstone patio where you can sit and lounge and do whatever it is people do when they sit in their backyards.  (Whittle?)  There’s also a covered walk leading to the two-car garage, which I strongly believe you should turn into a carriage house or guest cottage, possibly  just by running an extension cord and a space heater out there and calling it a carriage house or guest cottage.

3532 Massachusetts Avenue NW
6 Bedrooms, 4.5 Baths
$2,650,000

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All photos courtesy MRIS; listing courtesy Coldwell Banker, 202-387-6180

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