When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro. - Hunter S. Thompson

03 June 2006

By the time we got to Woodstock, we were pretty freaking damp

There comes a time in every New Yorker's life, particularly a New Yorker who lives in a fourth-floor walkup with inadequate air conditioning, when he starts dreaming of a summer house.

Or, in our case, a summer/weekend/increasing amount of time out-of-Manhattan place.

I've lived in the City for ten years now, and Carrie's been here for twenty. And while we're not yet ready to give up our West Village apartment (and may never be), both of us now have jobs that can be done from anywhere, and that do not demand our physical presence in Manhattan on most days.

So we're looking.

We love the Hudson River valley very much... and had decided, based on some day trips and vacations that we've taken in the last few years, that the "sweet spot" for a country house would be somewhere in the latitudes between Newburgh and Kingston, NY.

And that was how we found ourselves in Woodstock, NY, on a rainy Friday afternoon, meeting a very smart and friendly real estate broker/developer/entrepreneur named Cree and driving out to look at a farmhouse for rent (with an option to buy.)

Woodstock Town Square
Right smack dab in the middle of town

Woodstock Main Street in the Rain
Main Street in the rain

Woodstock Landau Grill
Landau Grill: The onion rings are pretty good here.

The property in question turned out to be waaaaay too much house for us (hard to tell that from pictures and stats), but our time in the area, plus our leisurely drive home along US Highway 9W, confirmed that we're looking in the right place.

More day-trips with maps and MLS listings to follow, no doubt.

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