And an update:

Most likely, we will be leasing a townhouse that's a 5-minute drive from my new workplace. Its one drawback: It was fairly recently painted, which makes it very pretty, but isn't great for Rick's allergies. However, we're optimistic, because the maintenance people are going to crank up the heat and ventilation to see if they can speed the curing of the paint, and they're going to do this, and present the place for my further inspection, before we sign a lease application. Also, I'm probably going to be moving to Rochester one to two months before Rick does, which gives me some time to absorb the monomers myself. So, watch this space.

We actually did look at a double that came close to being a Quaint Old House but not close enough to give me the vapors. (It was actually a really beautiful place, although some of my old-house neurosis was lapping at my ankles if not actually biting my toes.) The main problem there was that the vapors gave Rick the vapors -- not only was the paint even fresher than that in the townhouse, but the floor had been freshly coated with urethane. The secondary problem was that the current tenant leases both sides of the garage. Winter in western New York is not the time to learn to deal with alternate-side-of-the-street parking for two vehicles. (And, nope, we won't be able to cut down to one right now.)

Interesting psychological breakthrough: We talked a bit last night about my squirreliness in old houses. I remembered that when we stayed for a week and a half in an old, woody Queenslander in suburban Brisbane, I loved the place and wasn't weirded out at all. It might have been the fact that I was so happy to be in Australia, among old and new friends; it might also have something to do with the uniqueness of Australian home architecture. (Queensland houses do not look at all like northeastern U.S. houses.) It bodes well for our someday being able to spend extended periods of time overseas, as well as supporting my current explanation for the mind weirdies. It's also very strange since I don't seem to have problems while visiting my mother in the ancestral Bug House. I just don't want to live there.

Offbeat aside: You know you're back in the Northeast when the bakery section of Perkins sells cannoli.