The house shelters day-dreaming, the house protects the dreamer,
the house allows one to dream in peace.
It's happened again, you guys. I have fallen in love.
Meet the Whitaker House, a circa 1890s mansion that looks as if it could be the setting for one of my favorite girlhood books, The Velvet Room:
I took Josh to meet her over the weekend. This is all I have ever wanted, I breathed, hand wrapping around the iron garden gate that, seemingly by magic, creaked open. I took it as an invitation. Wouldn't you? We creeped inside the brick and iron wall and just stared at the old place.
It was for sale but now it isn't. Apparently a local optometrist purchased it from the estate of an out of town doctor, but there's no word on what the eye guy intends to do with the place.
I intend to find every dollar I possibly can and pray, wish and hope beyond hope that one day the phone will ring and it will be a gruff-sounding voice on the other end saying, So, I heard you were interested in the old Whitaker place....
Not interested. Enthralled, is a better word. Utterly smitten and completely in love.
It's time to find a place to dream in peace again....