In my renovation fantasy, we would continue to live in the exquisite and exquisitely small apartment in the centre ville until the refaire of the Ugly House was completed—light fixtures installed, molding painted, floors finished—but that would mean paying both rent and a mortgage, something we couldn’t afford. But before we could move into the ground floor, or, as we would come to think of it, Married Student Housing, we needed to buy a bed.
