The Mustard Seed Home. It’s Definitely Historical.
Some say it’s haunted, it’s definitely historical having long ago been a church, and once it was a boy’s home for orphans. The elementary school right down the street is named for Helen Haller who lived here, and it has a long-gone swimming pool (a rarity even in sunny Sequim) and the driest attic I ever climbed a ladder to explore, and yes, we still do that sort of thing in real estate even though that day I regretted wearing high heels.
Every ounce of romance and intrigue is satisfied here. It’s the sort of house that an avid childhood reader like myself dreamed about owning one day because it actually had a hidden room that was mysteriously discovered several years ago, and the post at the bottom of the stairway was rescued from a faraway university library, and the light fixture just inside the front door came from a real working lighthouse.
“The bunny wallpaper has a story!” exclaims the seller and yet it’s the stepping back in time master bathroom with its bright subway tiles and odd tiny cabinet from yesteryear that begs more questions.
“This strikes me as a house that chooses its owner and not the other way around,” I say before putting the For Sale sign into the front yard, and with a twinkle, the seller and the house seem to both nod yes.