Under St. Fozzie's Wing

So Jack and I hit the road yesterday and looked at five properties. Actually (blushing), we looked at four properties and one of them twice. And we have one more to see again today.

It's down to a stately villa on the Illinois border and a two-story townhouse on a road called St. Fozzie's Avenue. Okay, it's not "St. Fozzie's," but it IS the same name as our hospital. Do you believe in serendipity and all that hoopla? Because I do, to an extent. I rented my current hovel, I mean, house, sight unseen. I knew it would be okay because I logged into Google maps, input my address, then searched for the nearest Catholic church. The nearest church? You got it, St. Fozzie's.

I don't know why we've chosen to attach ourselves to St. Fozzie's (or, perhaps, he's chosen to attach himself to us), but it's getting interesting. We used to walk by this particular townhouse and think, "wow, that'd be a great place to live!" When we drove by and saw a For Sale sign in the yard, I glanced up at the street sign so I could reference the correct listing when calling our realtor. Of course, it was St. Fozzie's Avenue.

In the words of Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone, "Is this a joke?"

So it's down to the villa, which, for the record, qualifies as my dream house and a slightly-more modest (about 400 square feet smaller) townhouse on St. Fozzie's Avenue. We didn't think we'd find a home (or two!) so quickly. But then again, when you know exactly what you want, what you're willing to spend, and where you want to be located, it's easy to focus your search.

Is it bad that I've already been visiting the Crate and Barrel, Pottery Barn, and Ethan Allen websites to discern bedroom furniture choices!??!?