It's out there. Our house finally hit the market tonight. When we moved in, it was clad in wide planks of aluminum, decorated with nailed-on pink plastic shutters and extremely inappropriate and chintzy gingerbread details on the porch.
We saw its potential.
It didn't come easy. It didn't come fast. It came slowly with heaps of heavy "discussions", but we turned that house into a home. We (and an army of contractors) brought it back to its original 1920's form. With lots of colors, inside and out. It illicted remarks akin to those one would hear walking a chocolate lab puppy. People would look at it, smile and compliment - often.
It's a nice looking place, we've got great neighbors (and one neighbor who's a dandelion farmer) and a good location. Why leave? A raucously busy youngster and lots of stairs to make a long story short. And, it's a tad small. It still hurts. Bad. We'll make new friends, keep in touch with former neighbors, have more space and a really cool ravine in our backyard, but we'll miss this place.
Call Eve if interested.