A $million-two for a crumbling 17th century 500 square foot three story house? Le sigh. With room for only a single-sized bed? Mm-hmm. Mismatched rickety stairs that you need to climb with one foot on the left ascending step, followed by one foot on the right? Check. Kitschy rooster fabric curtain cupboard doors hiding nonexistent storage space beneath the sink? Cock-a-doodle-doo! Washing machine in the bathroom with no dryer to be seen? Heaven!
Some people drink wine, I prefer to watch other people drink wine as they decide between three different far-flung properties on House Hunters International. Sweet heroin, I am addicted to those exotic locales, but even more so to what's behind those big, rustic doors.
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