Waxing nostalgic (ie conveniently denying reality) about my old neighborhood this week, here's a picture of my favorite house. I was always half-thinking of schemes to buy it, being in love with the weathered carved wood and peaked roofs.
Ultimately, I'm glad we didn't, having become all too familiar with the risks of living in an historic house. Dark wood that seems to absorb all the light, the freezing floors, the ever-collecting dust, ceilings you can't reach, the lack of insulation that suddenly becomes PAINFULLY OBVIOUS during the rare cold snap.... all things that can make a house un-homey indeed.
We've learned our lesson, and the next place we live, we want it to be bright and airy and full of windows. Preferably on a beach.
But still...doesn't this looks like the perfect house for a dark and stormy night? I'd wander through the rooms wearing a long white nightgown and carrying a lantern. Or stand on the balcony invoking strange old gods. I would scare the hell out of the neighbors.
Well, wouldn't you? ;)
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