When I clicked, it was more of out of curiosity than intent. Then I decided I was hungry, and fixed myself a scone with grape preserves. That, of course, needed a cup of coffee to go with it, giving me even more time to ponder the possibilities from the admittedly vague listing on my computer. I don’t know if they do that for you, but scones always put me in an agreeable mood. By the time I’d followed possibility after peculiarity after potential, and after I’d polished off both scone and coffee, I’d contacted my bank, signed some papers, and become the proud owner of a house sight unseen.

Oh sure. Like you’ve never done something on impulse!

Don’t mind my defensiveness. The jitters I get when I think of what I’ve done could send me into the next decade, not that those years look any more promising than the ones everyone is bemoaning this year. Or last year. Or even the year before that. Maybe I should stop counting.

Anyway, that original, innocent click on the listing on my computer led me to a weekend trip outside of my usual paths. In addition to jitters, I was also a bit excited. Me! A homeowner! Visions of cute cottages with herb gardens and hunting lodges surrounded by bendy pines filled my imagination.

I rechecked the directions, and turned onto a long dirt lane. Yes, I have GPS. I’m not 60. I’m 27 and I know a thing or two. But my cell service stopped working about 20 miles back. Fortunately, the guy at the last gas station assured me with a creepy sort of smile that cell service is spotty in these parts, so after I’d gassed up and before starting out again, I’d taken advantage of what I hadn’t known would be the last of the reassuring, if not somewhat annoying, voice telling me which way to turn, and had written down directions I’d pulled up from a phone map service. Did I say the lane was long? And dirt? Because I feel like that’s something you need to know. At least I think I do.

Finally I pulled up to the front of my new house, which was neither cottage nor hunting lodge. And as I sat behind my steering wheel peering at the structure in front of me, I thought to myself that I should’ve sworn off my love of scones long ago.

to be continued . . .

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