Just went to see another potential "landing spot" for us yesterday. And, once again, have remembered why one should always take a real estate description with a shaker of salt.
This house's selling point, beginning and ending, it its location. It is right ON the lake, with a splendid view that, the owner tells me, features full sunsets. It has a nice deck to watch said sunsets, it has a fireplace, and it has just big enough of a yard to have space to garden without TOO much mowing to take up time and energy.
What it doesn't have, however, is much beyond that. Which includes not really having "three bedrooms," among other things.
There IS a main-floor bedroom. Positioned in an odd spot between the kitchen and the expansive living room (with the sliding doors that look out on the lake). And it's small. But it's not nearly as tiny as the two upper "bedrooms," which are basically loft spaces beneath a slanting roof. In both of them, if I walked more than six feet across the space, I would bump my head on the ceiling. And I am NOT tall. I took one look and knew that bookcases, not to mention my desk, wouldn't even begin to fit in either of them...which kind of nixes the idea of having the office upstairs, which is what a bedroom will be used for regardless of where we end up.
But the crowning achievement of this space was, in fact, what the owner called a "working kitchen." Which should have been called "a kitchen that should be a work in progress." From the front door of the home, it's what you step into immediately. To your left is a fridge. Immediately kitty-corner from the fridge are the full-size washer and dryer. Then, there's some cabinetry, and behind you is the counter with the sink. But by far the most interesting feature of this kitchen was...er...the stove. Which is wedged up against a wall that juts out, covering a tiny alcove...which contains the water heater.
In an alcove. Not a closet. Not a separate space. Just kind of "set in" there, with a stove jammed up against it. And the entire space couldn't have been more than eight feet deep.
To say that would be an unworkable kitchen, for someone like me, would be putting it kindly. Anyone who moves into this house can't possibly have "foodie" in their makeup. The arrangement doesn't give a real cook room to move, much less to create anything. And if you're doing laundry at the same time someone's trying to open the fridge...?
Ah, well. If I had that location, I'd tear down the cottage and start over. The location is absolutely, positively, the only thing about this place that would draw someone in. But a family with actual children? Not enough space. A single, or maybe a couple who had no home office and basically no furniture, would be fine in it. If they didn't want to cook. At all. Ever. :-)
It is to sigh. But it is also to move on and work at finding the next place to land--which is still on the agenda. A place big enough to store all our stuff, hopefully still WITH a water connection. Oh, and at a low price.
Yeah, I know. But I've never been accused of dreaming small. Ever. So we press on!
How's your garden grow?