Today, maybe? Please?

We walked away from one unproductive attempt to find a new place to live and, the very next day, we took a run at another.

The owner turned us down flat -- no counter offer, nothing.

Fast running out of affordable options, late yesterday afternoon we visited a quaint ranch-style house near the center of our village. It's almost 60 years old, owned by an elderly woman who's lived there almost since the day it was built. Her infirmities keep her house-bound these days, so she was there to greet us for the showing.

She didn't serve us milk'n'cookies or anything, but if she had it would've fit right in with setting and the mood.

The house, consistent with its age and considering that its occupant hasn't been able to keep up with maintenance in recent years, has its issues. It's also reminiscent of the mid-1950s house in which I grew up -- lots of built-ins, period fixtures and knotty-pine paneling.

Adding to the structure's charm is its location. It's situated just off of the village's main street, backing up to parkland and less than a block from the festival grounds. Every hometown holiday parade goes right by the front door. If it were to pour rain on Election Day, we could walk to the polls and not get very wet.

For our younger spawn, the parks-and-recreation department offers a BMX setup within sight of the back door. For my wife and me, the village coffee shop is a five-minute stroll away.

Mrs. KintlaLake and I submitted an offer last night, with eyes wide open to the property's fixer-upper condition. We're told that we'll get the owner's response, one way or the other, sometime this afternoon.

We're weary of this process and pressed by the need to escape our current situation. We remain hopeful, but our hope sure could use a boost. It'd get a big one with a simple "yes" later today.