Do you have a small world story? Most of us do. Today the husband and I took a drive, looking at houses for sale. Many of you may recall that we have our albatross/McMansion with its king-sized mortgage on the market.
No, it hasn’t sold, but local home sales seem to be taking a slight! turn for the better. So we were doing a bit of dreaming as we drove around the area, checking for a Tiny-Baby-Pseudo-Mansion. What a relief it will be to finally sell and downsize.
A cute little house caught our eye. I had seen it online and knew it was a vacant foreclosure. We boldly pulled in the driveway to get a closer look. We were enchanted by the live oak trees, and just had to take a walk around the house to check out the sweet shady back yard.
It’s okay, don’t panic. It was a bright afternoon, and we weren’t carrying crowbars. Here in the South if you’re middle-aged, wear glasses, have recently had a shower, and drive a minivan, people don’t generally call the cops on you for walking around a house with a for sale sign.
The retired neighbor man next door was out mulching his azaleas. He met us at the fence and we chatted about the house. It turned out that we all were originally from the same area in another part of our state, the Outer Banks. We knew a lot of the same people, and were practically related. We talked for an hour over the chain link fence, and when we parted, he kindly said he hoped we’d be his new neighbors.
What’s more, he told us the neighbor lady’s name on the other side of the little house. Hubs and I stared at each other, eyes wide. We knew her parents from the old hometown, hundreds of miles away.
Is that just a little freaky? Or is it truly a small, small world?
What’s your small world story?