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Wednesday, May 23, 2012

The House Tour That Ruined My Life

Hello.
Dramatic sigh.
I'm feeling blue today, because I was given an awesome opportunity to tour the inside of a house I've always been in love with, and I was stupid enough to do it.

What, this old crap shack?

That's not even the best angle.  Or maybe it is.  It's hard to tell, because the house is like some stupidface supermodel that looks gorgeous even when she's wearing a burlap sack and her hair's on fire.

I'm essentially looking up the house's nose, and it still looks good.

As you might be able to tell by the way I suddenly hate it, I can't afford to buy this house.  I offered to go splitsies with my mom, who orchestrated this house tour (there's plenty of room for her, especially if she's willing to live in the maid's quarters), but then she pointed out we'd still need a couple more people to go in on it with us.  Not likely, since they'd be sleeping in the smoke house.

EVEN THE SMOKE HOUSE IS CUTE!

I quickly discovered that it's a lot easier to love a house when you're admiring it from afar.  Then, you can delude yourself by imagining that at least the inside is filthy and needs a lot of work and it probably has a terrible floor plan.

This acreage is its own gated community.

But now that I've been inside the gate, I'm cursed with The Knowledge Of What I'm Missing.

Who even wants  this panoramic view as you rinse vegetables
in the kitchen sink, at your granite counter top,
over your custom-built Amish cabinetry? NOT ME!

Every single detail was perfect, and perfectly antique, and perfectly cared for, and updated in all the right ways.  The doors were gorgeous; even the cat door cut into one of the interior doors was adorable.

Spoiled cat doesn't even know
how awesome his door is, I bet.  Hiss!

Were there secret hallways with built-in window seats?  Did it have front and  back stairways, just like I've always wanted?  Were there FIVE bathrooms, huge closets, 10-foot ceilings, 10-inch baseboards, and original windows with slatted shutters?  Humph.  I didn't notice.

This is where I sat to cry.
I cried here for a little while, too.

My mom and I also went shopping at Goodwill today, which was a lot closer to our usual speed.
Pinterest, I will  make those adorable pillowcase dresses you keep taunting me with, even if I die trying.
Anyway, that's what I was up to today.   Instead of buying my dream home, I took over 100 pictures of it; I'm hoping, at the very least, to get a really nice cardboard box and line the inside of it with the photos.   I have a good imagination - maybe I can pretend I'm there.  Because now, of course, I can never be happy again without The House.  Judging by the look on her face as we pulled away, Madeline couldn't agree more.

Someone buy me that house!  Please???


Please click below to vote!  It might be the only ray of joy shining into the day
of a woman who is now the proud owner of every pillowcase in the tri-state area,
instead of a 3588 square foot farm house. ;)
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32 comments:

  1. What a great house! This is torture. I am helping to put on a home tour next Saturday for this AMAZING home in Sacramento. I keep telling myself I'm going to stop doing it 'cause it just reminds me of everything I'll never have. But you know what? My little 1947 shack in the 'hood is amazing. It's just not mid century modern perfectly decorated amazing. Those rich bastages! :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Total torture! But I feel the same way about my lil' house - who wants to clean 5 toilets, anyway?!?

      Eh, who am I kidding? I'LL DO IT!

      Delete
  2. As we get older and mature, it's frustrating as we realize that not all of the dreams we had when we were younger can be obtained without starting a vicious rumor that someone was brutally murdered in the house and that it is now haunted thus driving the price down.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh. My. God. You are a genius. We're calling that Plan A.

      Delete
  3. I'm trying to think of just one thing I can say to make it less perfect and I can't.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I sincerely thank you for the effort. Unfortunately, it's flawless. Sigh.

      Delete
  4. Oh, it's beautiful! Can I come live in your smoke shack? I'll let you use my kids for slave labor to cover my rent.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hey, you might be on to something there; with all our kids, surely we could get some sort of handmade leather wallet business or mafia money laundering operation going! This place will pay for itself (well, our kids will pay for it).

      Delete
  5. Aw I know how you feel. So many people have the hubby, the kids, the home, and are buying a new home. I'm single, I have no children, I rent, I live far from my family. Argh. It's heartbreaking.

    I can live in the smoke shack?

    This house has no shutters, awnings, or borders on the windows. Clearly it's a shack you don't want ;)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Pish, you can totally live in the smoke shack! You can even come in and eat with us in the dining room, which my mom has already mentally decorated for a large holiday dinner. ;)

      Delete
  6. Okay, let me see if I can make this a smidge better for you... I have acreage like this, and it takes SO MUCH work just to mow, not to mention the professional "tree guy" you have to hire when a thunderstorm blows a sixty foot tree over onto your "smokehouse" and all the rain gets in and ruins the tractor you've been keeping in there. Also antique doors are beautiful until you find out that no one has applied varnish

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. ::sniffle:: Really? It's terrible? You mean it? Because IT BETTER BE!!!! ;)

      Delete
    2. Oops prematurely hit publish! Anyway, old varnish is sticky, that was my other point. And the field mice who move in when it gets cold are not as cute as the cartoon variety... There, hope that helps just a little bitty bit... ;-)

      Delete
    3. Thank you, Sarah. :) Puffy hearts to you.

      Delete
  7. My kids would trash that place in 1 week then it would look like where I already live and then I would spiral into a pit of despair about how with my three monsters I can never ever own anything nice and would want to sell it but no one would buy it because my three trashed it.
    Nope, I'm not bitter at all. Why would you ask?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You make a really good point! My mom got me a coffee table for my birthday (because I picked it out and that's what I really wanted because I am sooooo cool) and 2 months later it's already covered in dings and scratches. I should learn to stop trying to have nice things for at least 17 more years.

      Delete
  8. Oh wow...! It's fantastic! Soooooooo drooling beautiful. Especially love the beautiful windows that look out onto such gorgeous property! Maybe you need to add a "Donate Towards The House" button on your blog. Maybe we could make it a time-share thingy... a few weeks a year per person? ;-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Such good ideas! It'd take a lot of people, though; we'd each only have the place for about 5 minutes a year, so it'd be like being in a conga line that happens to go through the house. Still, almost worth it. ;)

      Delete
  9. I'm not going to lie...I cried reading this post.
    I'll never own a home as glorious as that...finger printed free...and without an asshole neighbor looking into my backyard.
    I want to tan in the nude GD it!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. No kidding! I'm still wiping my own tears, trying to make myself feel better with the realization that I'd have to get all new furniture (mid-modern dorm room crapola won't quite work there), which I'd have to cover with granny plastic so my kids didn't immediately detroy it.

      Honestly, that's not really making me feel all that much better. :)

      Delete
  10. My first thought about that cat door, was, awww how cute! But what's the point of shutting the door if it doesn't keep things out? I think maybe the whole house is run by satanic cats who want dominion over the world or at the very least the owners of the house. You're better off without.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. What I don't get is that the last owners also had two gigantic dogs - were they also controlled by the satanic cats? Not possible, if what I remember about cartoon animals is accurate.

      Delete
  11. I'll live in a tent out back with the family for $50/month. We just need access to the kitchen and bathrooms.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Done! I'll save you a shady spot out back. (Warning: If I get a lot of takers on this tent deal, it might start to get a little Woodstocky back there. I'll try to keep the drum circles to a minimum.)

      Delete
  12. On one hand, it's devastatingly perfect. On the other hand...wait, there is no other hand. Sorry! When my husband and I lived in L.A., there was a perfectly, perfect 1920s home in a great neighborhood that we were dying to rent. Literally, I was dying inside a bit every day wondering what was happening to our application. We were denied and the homeowner called us and said, "You were such a lovely family, but, we ended up renting to a lovely couple, both doctors with twins." From that day on, "Doctors with Twins" became a swear word in our house. "Why don't you just go DOCTORS WITH TWINS yourself!" Anyway, my point being...I feel your pain.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. So you DO feel my pain, but it's WORSE because you had a chance to live there! My deepest condolences. Especially for being a lovely family but not quite as lovely as the doctors with twins (also my new favorite curse).

      Delete
  13. Um, I actually uttered an audible Oooohhhhh at the picture with the big stuffy comfy armchairs overlooking outside (insert wistful ~sigh~ here)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I know... sigh... Did I mention that room has a fireplace, too?

      Delete
  14. no, you didn't, but you just haaaaad to go there didn't you....SIGH....

    ReplyDelete
  15. Old dream: abandon all loved ones and escape to a coastal area with a new name and a writer's edge.

    New dream: abandon all loved ones and escape to Robyn's dream where I will be the cheerful, snappily dressed hermit living in the smoke house who keeps the place magically clean and then retires to write and drink whiskey out of sight. He's no bother, really.

    We'll call it, "Remains of the Play". Working title of course.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hey, you can have the house - if we're really dreaming, I'll take the coastal area and the writer's edge! Shame to waste that title, though. :)

      Delete

Thank you for commenting - you're awesome! I mean, even if you're a jerk, at least it means you read my blog. RIGHT?!?