The Writing Is on the Wall

This weekend we toured several potential properties and, lo and behold, found the perfect little farmhouse! It's cute as a button, completely renovated with a good layout, and an easy commute to work. The front of the house overlooks two wonderfully flat south-facing acres that need happy farm animals and a lavender labyrinth. The back of the house has a yard that is calling for Fenway and Dash. The property is almost surrounded by trees and even has a little pond. The icing on the cake? It's priced so far below our target range that it didn't even appear in our realtor's search parameters. (The frugal-minded Wrangler happened to find the listing online.) The property's very reasonable price would allow us build a small barn, put up fencing, and purchase the lavender plugs without having to pinch too many pennies.

Instead of submitting an offer, however, I found myself emailing the listing to one of our friends who also is looking for a small farmhouse in the area. I know, right? The only thing wrong with this property is that it isn't in New England and, as it turns out, I guess that's the deal killer for me.