cimorene

Wax has that periodic bug where she wants to move into an actual house with wood and more than one room and stuff. I do too, actually. My parents' house, where I grew up, is over a century old, wooden everywhere. Of course, an old American shotgun-style farmhouse is quite different from a house in northern Europe, where heating is a big issue, so the houses are as compact as possible to conserve heat. It'd be possible to move into a house, or a flat in an older house, for reasonable and comparable rent (to our current place, which has an awesome location to make up for being smallish and ugly), except that the heating bill in such a place would add another hundred bucks a month or so. But I think we're going to walk across the railroad tracks into the nearby vintage-house area and look at the one that's for rent that we really wouldn't be able to afford when you added in the heating, even though we would've been able to if the asshole caseworker at the Employment Bureau had let me have the job that Bosslady wanted to give me. (Yeah, I'm still bitter.)