House Hunting the Weird Way

I wouldn't like to think that only we witches have a monopoly on weird shit. In fact I like to think that weird shit (as opposed to the Law) is for all! It can even extend into all areas of life & lead one to some remarkably sensible decisions.
For a few hours earlier this week I thought I'd found my perfect apartment. Layout, size, even price, all perfect. But then my dad knocked some sense into me, since there was just the slight problem that there is a structural fault with building & the builders have gone out of business. He told me in no uncertain terms that I would be mad to get into that - that even if the problem was remediable there would always be spiralling costs. But Hound, you may say, how did he manage to tell you that, since he died thirty years ago? And that is kind of the purpose of this post, that when you're a witch, or even just weird, you have access to some strange sources of advice.
It also happens that this week was my mother's birthday & it's also approaching the anniversary of his death. It is not susceptible to solid empirical proof, but I just *know* he's still around. It makes me burst into tears when he communicates one of these very characteristic things to me. I don't see or hear anything, but the message comes across with the force of a slap.
These are also occasions for reminiscence. One of the reasons I want to live in the city centre is I felll in love with it as a small child. We would come to the theatre & stay in a hotel (the one that is now Crowne Plaza, although I think it was something else then), & I was fascinated by the way the city just carries on at night. Even as an adult I loved standing on the now-demolished bridge over Suffolk Street Queensway & watching the traffic go underneath me.
Some of the more normal things to be considered in house hunting are of less consequence to a witch. Trouble with the neighbours? - they'll move on quickly, for example. However dad's also talked sense into me in terms of a solid, sensible plan as to where & when to buy. When I panic that I may not be able to afford it he just slaps me with the fact that I'm relatively better off than he ever was.
It's a question of priorities: I damn well will live my dream. I can afford it, & will make sure I can if there's a shortfall. But I'm doing it the right way - by putting the needs of my poor old ginger tom cat (who if ever there was a witch's familiar, he's it) before rushing into my dream, I'm creating what I can only call credit in the universe. I don't know how muggles cope without dead relatives to talk to & the assurance that the universe will look after them!
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