I am an avid HGTV fan. So avid it really should be taken away from me. My DVR is full of design and house-hunting shows. I am not alone in this fetish, however; recently I came across a book called "Life Would Be Perfect if I Lived in that House."
Life would not be perfect, of course, and I am VERY happy in our current home but oh how fun it is to dream!
Yesterday we took a deeper plunge into my fantasy world and dragged a perfectly innocent realtor with us. I blame the person who told me a few weeks ago I was more suited to bungalow living than ranch living. To which I said TOO TRUE. And then, poof! An adorable craftsman-style bungalow comes on the market (which I know since I keep up - because WHY?) well within our budget. Who am I to argue with the Universe?
Within eight hours of seeing the listing we were touring the house. I loved it: great nooks, charming window panes and great light, arches between rooms, an updated kitchen with authentic touches, hardwood floors, radiator heat, a huge front porch, established perennials (lilacs! hollyhocks!), a clothesline and a garage.
Here is what Jack noticed. He could practically shake hands with the neighbors without getting out of bed. Cracks in the foundation. Traffic. Silly carved up rooms. The boiler was last inspected in 1942. A kitchen not conducive to cast iron. No heat upstairs. A square inch of unfenced yard for the dogs.
He did love the hot water heat (we could get a wood furnace!) and ... well, that's about it really.
Lesson learned. While I may be best suited for bungalow living, my honey is not. And I am best suited for living with him. End of discussion.
Life would not be perfect, of course, and I am VERY happy in our current home but oh how fun it is to dream!
Yesterday we took a deeper plunge into my fantasy world and dragged a perfectly innocent realtor with us. I blame the person who told me a few weeks ago I was more suited to bungalow living than ranch living. To which I said TOO TRUE. And then, poof! An adorable craftsman-style bungalow comes on the market (which I know since I keep up - because WHY?) well within our budget. Who am I to argue with the Universe?
Within eight hours of seeing the listing we were touring the house. I loved it: great nooks, charming window panes and great light, arches between rooms, an updated kitchen with authentic touches, hardwood floors, radiator heat, a huge front porch, established perennials (lilacs! hollyhocks!), a clothesline and a garage.
Here is what Jack noticed. He could practically shake hands with the neighbors without getting out of bed. Cracks in the foundation. Traffic. Silly carved up rooms. The boiler was last inspected in 1942. A kitchen not conducive to cast iron. No heat upstairs. A square inch of unfenced yard for the dogs.
He did love the hot water heat (we could get a wood furnace!) and ... well, that's about it really.
Lesson learned. While I may be best suited for bungalow living, my honey is not. And I am best suited for living with him. End of discussion.
1 comment:
This is funny. I dated a guy who lived in St. Mary's Glacier (well above 10,000 feet. Population very very small.) We were driving through the San Luis Valley on the way home from a hot spa once, and he said "wouldn't it be great to live here?" I looked around and saw nothing but nothing as far as the eye could see. I knew that was the end of our relationship :)
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