A Midsomer Cottage

When I first saw this place, the bay window and the style of the cottage reminded me of Midsomer, the county in England with the highest murder count in the world.  Thankfully, it's merely a TV show.  For awhile in the U.S., Cabot Cove, Maine, where Jessica Fletcher lived, might have rivaled that number.

Although I could already see a few problems, I was still enamored by this cottage plucked straight out of an English countryside and into my fair city.  As I walked around the yard to the back, where the attached garage was (which I failed to take a photo of), I could see a few problems, but nothing that couldn't be fixed.

However, then we made it to the back of the house, and I was no longer impressed, nor enamored.

The dining room French doors were boarded, there was exposed wiring, and the entire second floor deck leading out of one of the bedrooms was gone.   At least I could tell there was working electricity in the house.

Looking for a quick sale, the house was to go "as is," meaning all that junk would have to be carried to the dump, or recycled.

The roof over that same patio was leaking, and there was what appeared to be mold on the boards.  Believe me, mold and I are not friends.

There were three bedrooms upstairs, two of which can be seen here, and one that could be seen from the front.

With those tacky metal columns holding up the deck, it no longer looked like an English cottage, but a run-down 50s nightmare. Nothing mid-century modern about it, just ugly and ready for someone to demo it and start fresh.

Apparently, the garage had been broken into

since the last time my friend had been there.

One of the things that drew her to this place was the acreage.  She pointed out how far back the property line went.  It went beyond the fountain and beyond the tree line, all the way to the white area of a home you can see in the distance.

On the right side of the photo above, you can see an enclosed area, I thought would make a nice garden, since it was fenced in.

The fountain was surrounded by two benches,

one on each side.

At this point, I was ready to leave, but I knew she was still in love with the place, so I focused on a picture of a gnarled dead pine tree.

As we headed back around the house, I laughed at the fact you can never get rid of those Tidy Cat containers.  Believe me, I have tons of them my friend Scott takes off my hands.

You can finally see there is a full basement, although the windows are only on the two sides and back of the house.  As we rounded the corner to the front, it no longer looked like a gentile cottage,

but a cheap and tacky

residence someone tried to update with rope lights (possibly to help sell the place).

However there was ONE mystery I couldn't solve.  When asked if I knew what kind of tree this is,

I took several photos of the tree, the bark, the berries, 

and the leaves.   I've looked a bit online, but if anyone knows what this tree is, please let me know.  I certainly have no idea.

And then it was time to go.  My friend loved everything about this place, including the circle drive

and the lovely neighborhood.  I saw problems, but tried not to be too discouraging.

Thanks for joining me for a real Midsomer mystery (the tree), but no Midsomer Murder!  I'm always delighted when you drop by.