If only I could pick up this house and transport it by magic to our little corner of the world. . .
My sister, who lives in a quiet part of Washington, D.C., takes frequent walks with her dog around their neighborhood, usually armed with a camera of some sort. In her professional life, she develops and writes corporate training manuals for clients all over the world and occasionally delivers related talks and seminars. But among the activities that fill her private time, she is an enthusiastic amateur photographer and frequently circulates photos of people, places, and things that she has observed here and there.
On Sunday, she sent several shots that she snapped during her early morning stroll with the pooch. This one, in particular, really caught my eye.
Don't get me wrong, I like our current house (built in 1985) well enough. The neighborhood is quiet and beautifully situated. Almost rural in nature. People keep to themselves, take care of their yards, and seem innocuous enough.
But there's just no way around it. Most suburban houses built in the last 35 years or so just don't have that much personality. The one above, however. . . Well, let's just say if someone snapped their fingers, transported it magically to our neck of the woods, and handed me the keys? I'd move in tomorrow based on curb appeal alone.