I’ve been doing a lot of dreaming lately.
Our current house is lovely, but a 70s tract home and a bit plain and without character. As our family has grown quite a bit in the few years we’ve been here, the square footage just isn’t going as far as it used to.
I became accustomed to moving every couple of years growing up, so I’ve been feeling a bit of restless curiosity about what else was available in the area (and poring over real estate listings is one of my favorite hobbies). Thus, we wandered into a local open house a couple of weekends ago. It was a home in the village, much bigger than ours, and around the same price we could fetch if we sold. While the house itself wasn’t the right place, it got us thinking more tangibly about a ‘next’ place.

I’ve always been a modernist. My ideal would be a midcentury gem, all windows and light and restrained architectural detail. To find one here in upstate New York is like finding a Neutra in an actual haystack – close to impossible. Now, interiors are changing. There’s a distinct shift toward tradition in unexpected ways – Eames in the farmhouse – that beckons with the best of both worlds. Clearly, this has gotten me thinking. And dreaming.

So anyway, about the house above: it’s an 1835 charmer. The former mayor’s house! I’ve admired it along the main road into our adorable village for years. It’s been listed for quite a while and hasn’t sold, likely because of the main-road location and proximity to the school. The fact that the house next door keeps chickens might be a turn off (I may have been the only potential buyer to look out the upstairs window and say, ‘Awesome! Chickens!’ but I’m funny that way). The glaring negatives weren’t negatives to me at all – a main road in the village is still quieter than Brooklyn any day. I can walk the kids to school through the backyard every morning! And the location means we could walk almost anywhere we needed to go. That’s pretty amazing. Tack on over a half acre of flat land with a shed (hello, vegetables…fruit trees), seven (SEVEN) bedrooms, and a window-studded hardwood historical space at that price is pretty unheard of. So why aren’t we taking it?

It’s just not the right house for the right time. Maybe if we were more flush with cash and could complete one of the bigger projects before move-in. Maybe the bedrooms just aren’t quiiiite right. Maybe if it’s still on the market in the spring we’d see it differently. But it came close. Very close. And it’s fun to dream.

…And here’s dessert.

Twee Fried Apple Pies

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