Tuesday, September 25, 2012
But some houses strike me more like family dogs left at the pound. They're wonderful, they loved their families and they're increasingly sad. They don't understand why no want wants them anymore.
There's a house like that in our town, one that isn't my listing but I still very much want to see in the caring hands of a new owner. The picture above looks somewhat like it but it has ivy, wisteria-covered pergolas and charmingly curved doors. It is, quite simply, magic.
I've mentioned it before, and it still sits unclaimed. It's breaking my heart. This was a house that was once a family's pride and joy. They gave it a name, they decorated it like something out of a fairy tale. It fairly glowed with love.
It's been empty more than a year now. The lawn is mowed but the gardens are overgrown, the ivy is encroaching on the windows. Inside, there's that musty air common to old houses which need their windows thrown wide, a fire built in the hearth, people, dogs and cats rattling around and making noise.
It's not owned by a family anymore, it's owned by a bank. And a bank can't love a house.