House Hunt

After living for 16 years on 40 acres of forest, it’s hard to imagine living in town with neighbors and yards and noise. But that’s what Ron and I are imagining these days. Our home is too remote for aging folks, too much work, too far from emergency medical services (it took the paramedics a half an hour to get here one night last summer when we needed them). So we’ve been looking at houses every Thursday with our wonderful realtor Cindy. Cindy has so much imagination that she really should have been a writer, artist, or architect. Or all three. “This potting shed could be a great in-law unit,” she says with glee. Or “If you plant fir trees along that fence you’ll have a natural barrier in just 20 years.” Or “Convert the laundry room into an indoor pool and put the washer in the garage.” She’s actually very practical. When I trip over a step in the middle of a bathroom she notes, “You would need to ramp that.” But really, she’s very supportive. So far we have found the house of our dreams in a subdivision with no plant life larger than a rose bush. I can’t live without trees. Then we found the yard of our dreams with actual mature Redwood trees and a view of a hillside of Live Oaks, but the house had no windows and a long, dark main hallway as narrow as a corridor on a submarine. Also, cottage cheese ceilings. A remodel would cost a fortune. So we’re still looking. We have a date with Cindy again today. Will this be the day that we find the house and the yard both in one property?