It's just something I've always done, inherited from a mother who lured us out of the house on a Sunday with promises of adventures that always ended with an "Open House, 2pm - 4pm" sign.
Ok, so I hit the little heart button on the Zillow listing. It doesn't mean anything. Maybe I showed some pictures of the little house to Leah, our heads close together over my phone as we sat at the bar after work, enjoying our happy hour drinks.
But I do that sort of thing weekly, at least. Okay, not weekly. But certainly not more than every other day, unless I'm really having a bad week or have recently been around sheep or goats, or have seen some really nice landscaping that I'm sure would work in a homestead situation. But really, it's just looking.
Or it was, until the price was cut. Now? Now it's a call to the county assessor's office, a preliminary talk with Leah's bank and an appointment with a realtor to look the place over.
To look it over - just to look. Really.