When my husband and I were house hunting, we drove down a sleepy dead end street inn the town I had chosen out of the myriad of western Chicago suburbs. The town itself felt sleepy, a quiet spot where we could hear roosters and goats across the street yet still get to a Target in ten minutes flat. In other words, my kind of town.
A For Sale sign hung in the yard of a 1940’s era tan house, all strange angles and wide 70’s siding. Masterpiece it was not. The detached garage looked tired. To a woman with her heart set on a yellow and blue Victorian, it was ugly with a capital U. Honestly, to anyone it was Ugly.
My husband, who had no particular dream houses dancing in his head, even pronounced it so.
But I decided to look beyond the house, literally.
What does it take to find and create a slow masterpiece? Read the rest of this post today at The Glorious Table.
(PS–22 years later, we made it yellow and blue.)