After I dropped Lloyd and Brent off on Saturday, I spied this little house. I had to drive around and look at it, then get out of the car and look in it. There was the concern that somebody might live there, but it seemed to have a plaque on the door, and unless that plaque said, “Go away, busybodies”, I was peeking inside.
All was well – literally. It turns out that it’s a well water station for the city. It had all sorts of giant pipes inside, instead of quirky furniture and porridge-eating bears.
Once again, my Rich Inner World took over and I sat in the car, mentally designing the inside for maximum efficiency. Small bathroom? Check. Kitchen area? Check. Ladder to sleeping loft? Check. Fireplace or gas heater?
Do you think that Fremont would take an offer on the place? They don’t really need all that water.