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Good Lord.
This house is in the Bras D'or Lakes region of Cape Breton, a.k.a one of the most gorgeous spots in theworld universe.
It looks like this and also this. And oh, my. This. I've only seen it in winter, but, woah. Breathtaking.
Property Description:
"5 bedroom Heritage Home in a lovely private setting.The land is surveyed and consists of a young organic orchard consisting of pear, apple, and plum trees plus a large garden space. The house has been renovated & still has some work to be done. The original floor boards have been restored to their original glory and renos have been completed with respect to the older character of the home.The living space is bright & airy with a view to the lake with a main floor sunroom/office and garden doors to the deck.Heat is oil/hot water assisted by an attractive Jotul Woodstove."
Here's the MLS datasheet.
Five bedrooms. FIVE.
1.26 acres. Organic orchard, apple pear, plum. WOODSTOVE. And it's 90 years old.
Asking price? $92,000. That's CANADIAN DOLLARS. Which means the asking price is $82,358.92 U.S.
I could afford this. I'm pretty sure that even with my icky credit, I could fanagle a mortgage.
I've been to Cape Breton only twice, both times in the dead of winter. Anyone who knows me knows how much I fight against cold weather. I HATE cold weather. But the first time I stepped out of the van (and it was cold and snowy and there were PILES of snow everywhere), in the first oh, thirty seconds or so, I felt this really, really strong feeling that I'd not only been to Cape Breton before, but that I'd lived there, and that once it was home. Somewhere, back in some long-lost day, some ancestor or some incarnation lived in Cape Breton. The sulphur smell from the coalstoves mixed with the salt smell from the ocean, the music, the voices, everything. Complete love at first sight. And it didn't go away, that feeling of family, of belonging. Not then, not the next time I visited. I hated leaving, hated it, both times, and I've been trying to get back to visit again for years.
And now here's this house (and there are more like it, believe me) for practically pennies compared to where I live, and I'm here all wibbly because it just isn't possible.
I really shouldn't look at these websites.
This house is in the Bras D'or Lakes region of Cape Breton, a.k.a one of the most gorgeous spots in the
It looks like this and also this. And oh, my. This. I've only seen it in winter, but, woah. Breathtaking.
Property Description:
"5 bedroom Heritage Home in a lovely private setting.The land is surveyed and consists of a young organic orchard consisting of pear, apple, and plum trees plus a large garden space. The house has been renovated & still has some work to be done. The original floor boards have been restored to their original glory and renos have been completed with respect to the older character of the home.The living space is bright & airy with a view to the lake with a main floor sunroom/office and garden doors to the deck.Heat is oil/hot water assisted by an attractive Jotul Woodstove."
Here's the MLS datasheet.
Five bedrooms. FIVE.
1.26 acres. Organic orchard, apple pear, plum. WOODSTOVE. And it's 90 years old.
Asking price? $92,000. That's CANADIAN DOLLARS. Which means the asking price is $82,358.92 U.S.
I could afford this. I'm pretty sure that even with my icky credit, I could fanagle a mortgage.
I've been to Cape Breton only twice, both times in the dead of winter. Anyone who knows me knows how much I fight against cold weather. I HATE cold weather. But the first time I stepped out of the van (and it was cold and snowy and there were PILES of snow everywhere), in the first oh, thirty seconds or so, I felt this really, really strong feeling that I'd not only been to Cape Breton before, but that I'd lived there, and that once it was home. Somewhere, back in some long-lost day, some ancestor or some incarnation lived in Cape Breton. The sulphur smell from the coalstoves mixed with the salt smell from the ocean, the music, the voices, everything. Complete love at first sight. And it didn't go away, that feeling of family, of belonging. Not then, not the next time I visited. I hated leaving, hated it, both times, and I've been trying to get back to visit again for years.
And now here's this house (and there are more like it, believe me) for practically pennies compared to where I live, and I'm here all wibbly because it just isn't possible.
I really shouldn't look at these websites.
