Last year, in an attempt to re-hab my life, I bought a cottage in New Jersey. It had sat empty for a couple of years, and there had been an undiscovered leak in the basement that had allowed mold to grow all over the basement, the electricity would short out if you plugged in two things at once anywhere in the house, and the pipes were all galvanized and disintegrating . . .
But I loved it. Loved it when I saw the picture on the internet, loved it when I visited it for the first time, loved it when I went back a second time with Krissie. “Talk me out of this,” I told her before we went in, and then when we were leaving, I said, “So I shouldn’t buy it, right?” Continue reading