Where is my dream house?


I’ll make this one quick today. Hubby and I are scouring the area for our future home. I want a ranch, all on one level, washer/dryer, master suite all on one level, so when I am old I don’t have to climb or descend stairs with a laundry basket in hand, and risk breaking my bones. And the house must have a minimum of one toilet per each person, which currently is two.

Hubby doesn’t care what the house looks like. He wants a nice flat piece of land with sunshine so that he can have a garden, or as I call it, “plant a salad”.

That’s not too much to ask.


Finding both what I like, and what he likes, sadly doesn’t come in the same package. We will find a yard, with privacy fence, lots of sunshine, but the house is a small replica of the one we just sold, a colonial with four bedrooms up and the laundry in the basement. I found a ranch that has been customized to the hilt; tap the faucet with your elbow to make the water come out, in case your hands are dirty, pull out drawers in the pantry, washer/dryer in the main bath. The yard of course is the size of a postage stamp, covered with trees, and shaded by large Tolkien-sized trees across the street at the neighbor’s house which block the sun.


Hubby found a house that had the yard of his dreams, and of course the house was a colonial. I figured, okay, as long as we can get the laundry onto the first floor in the next five years, I would be okay with that, because it was also in a very desirable area, and it’s all about location, location, location. There was an open house Sunday, or so we thought.

We got to the house on Sunday at the designated time, and it was locked up tight as a drum, and there were no humans to be seen. I guess after the flurry of driving past houses on Saturday, and torching my brain with printouts of directions, wishing we owned a GPS, (no, we still have old flip phones, which I stubbornly cling to, because I don’t want to be an iZombie–you know them, the ones that cross traffic without looking because they are tethered to their phones, drive through stop signs, and walk into you at the grocery store without saying they’re sorry….) I must have messed up the information of exactly which home had an Open House and what exact time it was.

So we went home and did what anyone would do: we binge-watched “24”, or as we like to call it: “Bauer” to escape into another universe for a while.


Meanwhile, during the drive-bys, I started manifesting flu-like symptoms that were described to me by an acquaintance of ours that we saw Wednesday night. She had hot sweats, dizziness, and nausea. Good times.

I also double-dosed the powered vitamin C to help my immune system fight the funkiness, as I have no time to be sick in this, my drive-by life.

So somewhere out there is my perfect house and Mr. Porter’s perfect yard, and we will find it!!

Clayton sunset 3


#househunters #salad #ranch



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