Sweet Husband and I went to look at a house for rent yesterday. It was out in the country on top of a windy little hill. But not a bare hill. It had trees--beautiful, old, gorgeous trees. There was a little stone wall that enclosed the yard, and you could see the lake in the distance. Under a particularly big, old, brambly tree there was a little stone bench that looked like it had been there since time began.
The house itself was an old stone school. The outside was great.
Unfortunately the inside...not so much. Watery basement, rusty bathtub, olive green refridgerator. It broke my heart.
I wonder if I could pay the man rent and live there in a tent.