Fast forward a few years. There's a particular house in our town that my husband and I have always loved. We passed by it a few weeks ago and saw a For Rent sign in the front yard. Aside from the sacrilege of such a unique place being a rental and not owned by some nice family that takes extravagantly good care of it, the thought of living there made me get a little giddy.
"Can't be in our budget," I said.
"Call and find out," he said.
And it was gloriously affordable. I finalized the paperwork to rent it today.
So, introducing our new abode:
Build in 1835, it may be the oldest house in our town. As a potential restoration, it would need a lot of work to restore it to its former state. For one, and this is a plea: Cease and desist on the carpeting, people! Some idgit carpeted half this place, which is sacrilege; wood floors are beauty incarnate in an old house. Still, for us living there for a year and a half, it has enough history and charm to more than please me. Original floorboards and woodwork. Fireplaces galore. Curtain rods built into the window frames that have been there since...a long time. Even the light fixtures are antiques, probably dating from the first round of putting electricity in the place.
The kooky folks who lived there many moons ago not only did some interesting painting, but carved a face in one of the exposed ceiling beams. And left the weird harem-esque lamp in the corner of the dining room.
There's a fireplace in the bedroom. Sigh. We aren't allowed to use it as we're renting but still...swoon.
I had to share--and we can't wait to move in! I'll probably be doing some more research on the house, too, to satiate my curiosity about who lived here, when changes were made to it, and how the town build up around it.