Each time that we visited Rosslyn with our realtor in 2004 through 2006 —which is to say, over the roughly 2 years that we contemplated purchasing Rosslyn but before decided to make an offer — Susan and I balked at the precariousness of the living room floor. It moved underfoot. But, like so many other alarming elements of this hard-on-its-luck home, we chose to see what *could* be instead of heeding the blatant warnings. Today’s now-and-then photographs juxtapose Rosslyn’s living room 18 years ago and this past August.
Let’s jumpstart the joy (aka start dinner with dessert) with Rosslyn’s living room south elevation as it looks today. 
Beach hardwood floors, fireplace (one of two in this space), period appropriate wood paneling and mantelpiece, a 6-paned doorway to the bar, lots of natural light despite being an interior room,… Rosslyn’s living room today is a warm and welcoming space, the heart and soul of our entertaining at this time of year.
Now let’s rewind the clock to December 19, 2006, exactly eighteen years ago today.
That’s the same view as the photograph above. Imagine that you’re standing slightly north of the center of the living room, looking toward the south elevation. You’ll know that we closed a window between the living room and the bar. Actually, that window opening became the liquor cabinet above the bar sink (and the recessed area behind the bar sink.)
Here’s another glimpse of that now absent aperture that helps orient you as if you were turning slightly to the southeast. The south fireplace is evident as well as the (temporarily closed) doorway to the front hall. An identical fireplace flanks the passage from the living room into the front hallway. 
As you can see, we deconstructed the living room floor to address the underfoot movement, instability that was especially pronounced when two or more people walked on the floor at once. Each footfall caused the “hung” floor to fluctuate and wobble.
During Rosslyn’s incarnation as The Sherwood Inn, I understand that this space was part of the Colonial Taproom, and that might offer some insight into the floor’s failure. Even more relevant, perhaps, was the extraordinary amount of mold and rot that we discovered during our inspection in the crawlspace beneath this room. Almost all of joists had rotted away from the masonry foundation. Several attempts had evidently been made to support the failed floor from underneath by stacking makeshift piers made from stone and blocks of wood. But the rot was pervasive, and even these structural Band-Aids were insufficient.
The previous owner had contrived a clever if inadequate solution. Two steel cables hung from a truss in the attic, passing through the floor above the living room (our bedroom)  and through the living room floor itself. Wood blocking on the underside of the living room floor effectively suspended the middle of the room. This workaround presumably had stalled the short term failure of the living room floor at the expense of having to steel cables through the middle of the living room, our bedroom, and the room that we now use is a massage room on the third floor. Needless to say, re-engineering was a priority for us. 
And so, the most notable difference between the photograph at the top of this post with all of the others is that the original floor was 100% replaced. And that story (with plenty of photos to document the agonizing transformation) for another day… 
What do you think?