Well! Mission accomplished! But not as I'd expected.
First I must tell that any property I saw was blighted,
absolutely blighted after having coffee and deeply chocolated biscuits with cj. Her house is just a dream house - superb - after seeing it I whizzed off in an overexcited state of having seen - well, gorgeous. Catherine has wonderful taste.
I must also admit that her dear little girl thrashed me at Trivial Pursuit; kindly dumbing down my questions to give me a chance. How shaming!
I wanted a smaller version of Maggie's Victorian house, but the only versions that were available were in the wrong location/too expensive/ on a road where Ferdinand would be zapped if venturing a whisker out of the front door.
I was rather taken by an 1850's cottage which was too small and in a very dreary village. The main shop here sold giant polystyrene vividly painted garden ornaments - bunnies, gnomes eagles - but I'm still haunted by the savage expression on the face of a huge ornamental collie dog, seemingly about to leap onto the pavement with evil intent.

Maybe not. The cottage was very small!
My current husband wanted to look at a new house. "No! No! No!" I shrieked. But none the less I found myself gazing at a little cul-de-sac of pretty dolls' houses painted in pleasing whites and creams. The Sales Person tip-tapped her way out of her office and before I knew what was happening I was drinking coffee with this Jennifer (unutterably chic, tiny and immaculate) and hearing all the advantages of one particular new house at exactly our maximum price, in the right location, safe for a cat.
"Open mind" I kept thinking. The current husband had the blissed-out expression of a DIY refusenik who realises he will not be pressed into service.
After a second and third viewing, we have decided to buy it.
As I signed on another dotted line, a guy in a hard hat appeared. There was a brief bizarre consultation that went along the lines of
"Has Mrs Woodford made The Choices?"
"Mrs Woodford hasn't yet made The Choices!"
"It's time to make The Choices, Mrs Woodford".
(Me, anxiously) "Choices?"
And so it was that within a brisk hour I chose tiles, units and floor tiles for kitchen and bathroom. I crawled all over the office floor selecting carpet. I've always envied people who would brag outside the school gates about their new kitchens, bathrooms, dream decor etc, and there I was,
doing it myself!! Weird.
Then things seemed uncannily Stepfordesque. Jennifer fixed me with a penetrating blue gaze, and managed warmly to grasp both my hands while patting my shoulder.
"You're going to fit in
really well here my dear, with
your personality. Really well! I know it!"
I nodded, half hypnotised by this assurance, and tottered out of the office. I noticed a gorgeous builder with a huge power tool in his hand, maybe hurrying off to install somebody's Choices, but for once my mind was not on blokes. I felt dazed, and was only restored by a visit to a local fish and chip shop where I scoffed down enough to raise my blood sugar back to normal.
Open minded? I took your advice!
Munch
"Baldrick, you wouldn't recognise a cunning plan if it painted itself purple, and danced naked on top of a harpsichord singing "Cunning plans are here again.""