This Old House

UPDATE:

I am no longer buying that other house. During the inspection it became clear that I was allergic to it, most likely the basement. Since basement allergy means mold, my sister would last all of 0.075 seconds before having to apply three epi pens to herself and then rushing off to the ER. I don't think it's nice to buy a house that would send your sister to the ER, it's like buying a car that has no passenger side seatbelt and then taking a slow left turn into oncoming traffic. Or maybe some other analogy that is neither boring nor unclear.

So I'm staying here in semi-urban paradise, recommitting to loving the house that I'm in, which shouldn't be too hard because it's actually awesome just a little too big. And I'll just let go of the dream of having a secret tunnel, maybe finding a way to add a secret swinging bookcase door instead.