For years now I've experienced house envy. Perhaps it's because I've yet to own one--a classic case of 'the grass is always greener.'
My first symptoms presented shortly after we moved to Vancouver. Having just bought Honey, I found myself roaming Kerrisdale at puppy pace on a regular basis. Not accustomed to exercise that didn't achieve a target heart rate, I was in sudden awe of my surroundings. There were buildings beyond those sidewalks and front lawns--and people lived in them!
It quickly got to the point where our route was determined by where my favourite houses were situated and which gardens were in bloom. Come Christmas, we would stray somewhat to accommodate homes that had perked up with a little seasonal attention. I was discrete, though I admit there were times I was tempted to peek in their windows.
So here is my latest affection. I never thought myself the 'rustic' type until moving to Switzerland. Modern construction in these parts is far too boxy and sterile for my tastes. I doubt this rustic treasure has a closet to speak of, but it's charming and, in my mind's eye, I'm curled up before a well stoked fire and no one's asking me for anything.
Hmm...perhaps it's not the house I'm craving...