I’ve decided that in a few years, when I’m richer than J.K Rowling, I’m going to need a house suitable for that lofty income bracket. Naturally, I went looking for an English country house.
I think this one fits the bill:
As you can see on its info page, it only has 5 reception rooms, but I think the swimming pool, tennis courts, stables, and multiple other outbuildings make up for it. It’s a bargain at 12 million pounds (that’s just under 24 million USD, for those whose currency conversion faculties are rusty from disuse). And hey, there’s a carriage house, which means Dad gets his wish of guarding my driveway from rabid fans with a shotgun.
Of course, part of me likes this one better:
Because it is common knowledge that “There is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire.” (Bonus points for someone who knows who says that line *in the book*, not the movie.) And for less than $2.5 million it’s a steal!
Why yes, I’m avoiding work. Why do you ask? *halo*
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