In 2002, Ken, Charmer, and I found out that we were moving back home. Back east. Lo and behold, HGTV's Dream House that year was in St. Michael's, Maryland. I took it as a sign. Sure it would be a three-hour commute for Ken, but I figured if we won it we could buy a small plane for him to commute in.
It's easy to have pipe dreams. Kind of like daydreaming about the outfit I'll wear for the press conference when I win the lottery.
I entered my entire family online every day. I even mailed in postcards. On the night before I knew the winner was being notified on live TV, I cleaned the house, anticipating visitors.
And, well, if you haven't already guessed, we didn't win.
Today, mom and I visited the small town of St. Michael's (now only 45 minutes away) and on our way there I began an ernest search for the Dream House location. It wasn't that hard to find. It's a rental house (for a mere $850 a night) and the address was right there.
So the house wasn't exactly in St. Michael's. If where we live is rural, this location was outright desolate. The abandoned gas station about a mile from the spot advertised gas at $2.15 a gallon. Yeah.
As we drove down the long driveway (me worried the entire time we were going to get arrested. I'm a big rule follower), a huge deer jumped out of the front lawn, the house's only inhabitant. The "Doggie Dream House" was pretty forlorn looking and the whole house in general just looked...sad.
You know me. Still felt like a celebrity sighting.