Welcome to That Old House

Thank you for finding That Old House amidst the chaos of the Internet.
This blog named itself. When I tell local people where we live, they almost always say, "Oh! You live in that old house!"
We do, and I'm glad you've come to visit -- Cass

How I Met My House: A Tale Of Illicit Online Passion!

True Confessions:
It was online dating that lead me to That Old House.
And I was engaged to another house at the time!
Gasp!

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In 2007, Howard and I had a contract to buy an 1890s house in another community, a wonderful house -- gorgeous yard, fabulous neighborhood, amazing new maple and granite kitchen, three magazine-spread-worthy bathrooms . . . and just a few weeks before we were to close on this purchase, and the sale of our own house, I was stalking . . . I mean looking at . . . other houses for sale, and this picture popped up:


Now you have to understand the depths of my dottiness -- I saw this picture, and it took my breath away.
I am telling you, my heart skipped a beat.
A normal person would have thought, "Whew! What kind of nutters would buy that old dump?"

But not me. No indeedy.
For me, it was Love At First Sight.

There it was, the house I had always hoped to own -- a Greek Revival farmhouse, built in 1832, with its integrity intact, a big front porch, a long upstairs hall with plenty of bedrooms, a separate "family" staircase down to the kitchen, a full walk up attic (I pictured Jo Marsh and her apples and pens), a stone foundation, old wavy glass windows, and a recently built sunroom that doesn't even leak!

Howard came home from work that day in 2007.

Howard: Honey, I'm home!
Me: Hi. I found the perfect house for us!
Howard: Yes, I know, dear; we have a contract on it.
Me: No, not that one.  This one is better!
Howard: Tough noogies, Honey, we have a contract.
Me: But I like this one better!
. . . and so it went.

Then, our house buyers pulled out a week before the closing, meaning we couldn't buy the other house, and those sellers found other buyers, and suddenly we did not have a contract on another house . . . but by then, the online real estate listing for the old yellow house with the big front porch was gone. I assumed it had been sold.

I wept and wore sackcloth and ashes . . . no, I didn't, but I was disappointed,
and couldn't seem to hook up with any available house.

Then, one day, months later, while stalking the housing listings again, I saw this:

Different season, same house, same breathless and heart-stopping reaction.
My house was still single, still looking for that perfect partner, still available after all!

Kismet. Serendipity. Fate. Whatever . . . it had to be mine.

And it was.  And it still is.
We are looking forward to a long and loving relationship.
It would help if That Old House would learn to stick to a budget, but one can't have everything.
She's lucky she's cute, you know what I mean?


P.S. I got pretty much all of my "wish list" features here at That Old House. Howard had one thing on his Wish List: a garage. Poor Howard. He is the best of husbands.  -- Cass