TWIL and I drove to Cape Cod during the churning rain last Saturday to look at three wedding houses. On the web, they had the right combination of kitchen, bedrooms, and lawn. That's that thing again, that 'hope'. Get back in place, you, you,
emotion, you! One owner was unexpectedly in Maine. We shrugged. Turned off among private lanes and drove through what must have been backyards to reach small saltbox claustrophibically close to the neighbors. Shrug and on we roll.
In Dennis, the Seaside house looked very comfortable inside. Old beech trees embrace the yard. They volunteered themselves at once as The Spot sentiment and the state would join us as one.
But where to put the tent, in case - shine your fare faces upon us, ye gods - it rains a year from now as it did on Saturday? Our Tent Guy is talking the rental Agent Guy, who'll give him access.
But it's on a street named Seaside and if Tent Guy says we can manage it, you're going to hear a lot more about this place. Stay tuned.
Then after a lunch at
Persey's we slo-mo-ed across 28 and 151 to Pocasset, where the Major Leonard Wood house wide porch draws you in from the vast golf-course of lawn.
No need to call Tent Guy. We loved the agent, Don, who in fact, owns the place with family. Or
still owns it, as he and five siblings grew up there. His mother still lives in an attached bungalow in back.
We're sure to meet her one night when Frou Frou is too loud. The house was built in the early 1800s, it's beautiful, if a little cool, formal, and wide open. But the bluegrass just won't quit.
Of course, what we want is the interior of Seaside and the outside of Pocasset. That's the "real" part of real estate. And, if you're in a philosophical mood, a reminder what life together is about: good, not perfect.
