Jenn's Pen: Is the Universe Speaking to Me?

I love old houses. Houses with history and a name. . . and original wood floors and trim--and five panel doors! I love a grown in garden and a good hedge. Oooh, and big wrap around porches. And trees that yawn out over the lawn and create a canopy over the house. It has been one of my longstanding aspirations to own one . It even made my top 20 things to do before I die--it was number 15, though it REALLY should have gone before 14 considering my hatred of running!

When we first moved here nearly three years ago I looked at several old houses but Rob was scared of them because they tend to have issues. And the ones we saw had LOTS of issues, and not nearly enough fun history. I DID pick a house I told Rob I wished was for sale due to its cuteness and tree filled yard.

But it wasn't for sale--still isn't.

Then a couple months ago we were driving around near that house ogling all the oh-so-lovely old houses and wishing we could live in one when we came around the corner and I blurted out:

"That one! Ooh, I LOVE that one."

And then I made him drive around the block like four times while I took pictures of it from every angle. . .

I could do this because three quarters of the block make up the yard. The the corner quarter had a cute matching white house on it that had to be a guest house at one point. The yard was filled with trees, and hedges.

It had a large wrap around porch and loads of charm. I told Rob then and there that if that house went up for sale, I WOULD buy it.

I even told my realtor. She rolled her eyes.

Then I went home and researched it with dreams of all the people I had heard of who watched a house for years and when it finally went up for sale they bought it. That could be me, I thought. . . then I found out it was a famous house with a name and a history and an owner that was like the grandson of the man who built it back in 1920. The family also built and owned several buildings in town, including a mercantile and a theater.

Those kinds of houses aren't sold. Who sells the family home when the family home is THAT fantastic? I jokingly made plans to meet the family and arrange a marriage between our kids so we could sort of own it by relation, and maybe our posterity would get it someday.

THEN, last night, I was perusing through houses for sale in the area and BAM! There it was. . . for sale!

MY dream house was for sale--less than two months after I swore I'd buy it, should it ever go for sale.

As I sat there hyperventilating and wracking my brain to find a way to actually purchase this dream of a home, my husband just reminded me how I should have been writing and publishing instead of sewing fun projects and tearing out my laundry room.

"You have to be ready for these situations if you expect to be able to pounce when they arrive." He reminded me. Not for the first time.

And my daughter kept yelling from her room: "We are NOT moving! Dad tell her we aren't moving. It's probably HAUNTED!" Oh yeah, did I tell you she is scared of old things. We are working on that.