This week, the hubs and I did something we didn’t think we’d be doing. We looked at a house in Spencer.

We are not moving, at least not yet, because as much as we love the house we looked at on the inside, there are some issues that would need to be addressed. But we are considering it, though we won’t let go of the Lexington family home, because it will put me in my work territory.

To move, though, given the cost, the angst, the work involved, means wherever we’d move has to have enough to offer to offset what we’d be giving up.

In this economy, we seem to have become convinced that even with rentals, we can ask exorbitant prices for housing because the market will bear it.

But that’s not accurate, and I’ve watched the housing market go up and up and up and known that at some point, as it always does, it’s going to get beyond what the public can pay.

We currently live in a rental in historic Lexington, a beautiful three bedroom, two and a half bath house on a quiet street with newer wiring and plumbing and insulation, so our utility costs are reasonable. We have a pretty yard where we’ve planted three trees and a number of flowering plants and a garden. We have an outdoor shed in back and a covered carport. Our street is a lovely, quiet side street and we are two blocks from a busy street, so traffic isn’t an issue for us.

But.

I love houses with personalities, older houses that have unusual areas, hidden spaces, quirky spots. Those houses are older, and in fact the one we looked at this week is 100 years old. Which means to meet what we have now, electrical and plumbing have to have been upgraded, and insulation will need to have been added. I understand that the utilities will still be higher, but there will still have to be enough trade off to make it worthwhile.

A house is just a house unless you can love it. And you can love a home for a lot of reasons.

For me, I need my home to have some personality. I have trouble with bland, boring, look-alike. I need there to be something different, unusual, unique about the house. I need something I can connect to that makes the home all ours, unlike anyone else’s.

The house we live in now offers a lot of benefits because it was built in 2015, and has all the modern utilities and benefits that come with new houses.

What it lacks is that personality I’m looking for. I could add that myself, but because it’s a rental, there are only so many changes I am allowed to make.

Which means I’m looking for somewhere that I can call home and not just my house. Somewhere that, without a lot of changes that a landlord won’t allow, is already more my style. And in all honesty, when there is a fire in the middle of the night out in the Kannapolis area, it would be nice to be 20 minutes closer from the start.

The beach house that the hubs and I sold last year was home. It didn’t make sense for us to keep it anymore and we’ve been happy to be here, but I feel a little out of sorts not having a place anymore that feels like us.

Maybe that’s something unique to me, I don’t know. Maybe others don’t have to feel a sense of connection to the place they live. But I do. I guess I’m one of those odd ducks who almost feel like my home is a living creation, that welcomes me home from work or when we’ve been away, that makes sure we are safe inside, that loves being loved. And I need to love my home. I need to feel that the structure and I are connected, symbiotic. My mood feeds off of my location, and so having both a home and an office where I feel at ease, feel I can be myself, makes a tremendous difference.

If you doubt me, stop by the Post and see where I work. You’ll get it.

Right now, I think the house we just looked at, while immensely appealing inside, does not give me enough back for what I’d be giving up. But I’m going to stay on the hunt. I’m open to suggestions, ideas, recommendations, and in the meantime, I do have enough common sense to be grateful for the house we have.

And I do know there is some new life in and around our current house that also make it harder to leave just now.

Up in the guest bathroom that we don’t often use is one of our barn cats, Emily, who we always thought was spayed. But she’s in the bathroom with her three beautiful two-week-old kittens, two orange tabby boys that are polydactyls and one buff-colored little girl. And early this morning, about 3 a.m., I spotted the backyard opossum out walking across the grass, but she was moving more slowly than usual. Closer inspection revealed two babies on her back.

Maybe the universe is reminding me that for the moment, while this might not be my favorite house, the animals around me need me to stick around a little longer until the babies are old enough to be on their own or find new homes.

Just maybe, I need to remember that for me, it’s a house, but for them, it’s home, so perhaps we should stick around for a little longer.

Elisabeth Strillacci covers crime, courts, Spencer, East Spencer and Kannapolis for the Salisbury Post.