As soon as she saw it she knew. This was her house. She overlooked the smallness and the homely face it showed to the world and saw what it could be. She squinted and could see it painted a bright white with green trim, cheerful shutters, tidy flower beds, a white picket fence and a riot of roses climbing the arch that stood over the front gate that her daughter would hang on. She drove straight to the fabric store and bought a whole bolt of her favorite print. Then she went home and called her realtor.