Can you just have a crush on a house?

It's great having a Realtor for a husband, because when you start looking at houses for yourself, you don't feel pressured to rush through and don't feel as bad poking around a little.

So, we're not officially househunting yet. But we know it's an inevitability within the next year, probably sooner. We won't move until Audrey's summer vacation starts, but we may well start looking in the spring. In the meantime, we're taking advantage of Leo's Realtor status to look at some houses, not just for fun, but to get a better idea of what we want and what's out there.

The town we'll be moving to (in order to be nearer Leo's main client base) has some great houses. And mostly some very 'spensive houses. Some we can afford. Some are just way out there. The cool thing is that, even in the newer subdivisions, they are virtually ALL custom built, so there is no chance of the cookie-cutter house syndrome happening to us.

We looked at three houses yesterday. The first two had one fatal flaw each. One did not have an eat-in kitchen, although the listing sheet claimed it did. It would be pretty tight, and it would impede the flow to the family room. The only way I would be willing to forego an eat-in kitchen is if the dining room had hardwood or laminate flooring, because I am tired of cleaning food off of my dining room carpet.

The second house had virtually no backyard. We have a rather large wooden swingset that we hope to move with us, if not completely upgrade to a new one, and it's HARDLY EVEN WORTH MENTIONING that we have two children who will want some outside space to run around.

The third house...I can hardly keep myself from gushing. OH. MY. GOSH. First of all, it has a name. Hilger House. I have no idea yet why it is named that, but it sounds rich with history and stories. It's huge. It has four bedrooms, three and a half baths, a huge mostly finished basement. A living room, a family room, AND a den/office. There is a "breakfast area" that would serve my need for an eat-in kitchen. There is a walkout basement (basement is required for me here in Tornado Country) with a huge screened-in porch that overlooks a gigantic backyard with a trellis and a small lake. This sounds like a countryside house or a subdivision, but it's not. It's in the downtown section. Which I love, because subdivisions always seem to breed neighbors who don't know each other well. I'm not crazy about the white kitchen cabinets and the huge chef with real clothes painted on the wall in the breakfast area is a little "different", but cabinets can be replaced or painted, as can walls. The closets are a tad smaller than what I was hoping for, but there are many in the house, and the master bedroom has TWO closets, and though they are small, they are still technically both walk-in closets.

The only problem with this house is that it's old. It was built in 1945.

This problem is not mine, it's Leo's. He has said all along that he does not want another old house (ours was built in 1900) because of all the maintenance issues. Myself...I love old houses. They have character. Even the custom homes we have seen so far don't have features that compare to old houses like ours and this one we looked at. We have a built-in china hutch in our living room. Hilger House (I already love saying that) has at least three small alcoves built in the wall for telephones, with a shelf underneath each for a phone book.

The house has been well-maintained. The bathrooms aren't all crusted over with lime, they are shiny and clean. The hardwood floors have been refinished. The paint is new. The carpet on the stairs is not worn. The appliances are old, but don't appear to have any problems. The roof is new. The furnace...well, it IS old. It would probably have to be replaced soon. But Leo is more worried about pipes and ducts, and what happens if THEY wear out.

Of course, this is supposed to be just for fun right now. We're just flirting with looking for a house. We're not ready for a commitment. But this house...I could fall for it. I could fall in love with this house. It has flaws, yes, but even a newer house would have flaws that would readily make themselves obvious after living in it a few months. No house is perfect. I can love it in spite of its flaws, and I can fix many of them!

Leo threw me a bone tonight. He said that because of the way the basement is laid out, being a walk-out and a full basement, with none of it being crawl space, it would be easier to deal with pipes and ductwork if they would have to be replaced. And he couldn't deny last night that the only real problem he had was that it was old. He likes it too.

I'm not going to let myself fall for this house yet. It's too uncertain. We're not ready to move yet. I still am uncertain if I'm willing to live with smaller closets, and the white cabinets in the kitchen make me cringe with the thought of cleaning them (I know about this. I have white cabinets already). But I'm willing to entertain a crush on this house. Maybe just a little fling. But I'm not going to let myself fall in love.

Not yet, anyway.