It is 82 degrees in this room. Practically a sauna in our bedroom on 53rd street. It is completely balmy, my face feels hot, and I'm pretty sure I'm sweating behind my knees. It's a gross feeling (the sweat behind the knees thing). Makes me feel icky.

12 hours ago I was sitting in a cool house in the woods. Nay... a PARADISE.

Two floors of A-frame goodness.

This house is a complete original. Cori's grandfather not only built this house... he designed it. From the ground up. Every beam, every well-placed stone, and every inch of that gorgeous wrap around porch. The Lennox's dug up the pond on which both this house and the cabin across the way sit. There's even a picture of Cori's dad as a small child on a tricycle riding around on the un-filled bottom of the pond. Totally rooted in history and totally amazing.

In the living room there are books about fly fishing and Frank Lloyd Wright. A grand piano and stained glass doors. Architect tools and the most amazing fireplace I've ever seen (picture not taken because it wouldn't do it justice).

Over the course of the weekend, Cori kept looking over at me and saying we should live there someday. I'd own a bakery and she'd be my business manager. We talked about clearing the footpaths her grandfather originally put in place, and how we wouldn't have to update much else.

It's that perfect.

There's fishing. And turtles. (and wasps)

But we brought out the bug killer for that last one.

We will live everywhere we have ever wanted to live. We'll do things together that we have already talked about, and things we haven't yet. And yes, Cori... Someday we may just live here. I can already see you at home in the woods, catching fish with our daughter off the dock, teaching her how to hook a worm because Mommy #2 refuses to touch those slimy things.