So... this story might only be funny if you can imagine my face. When Chris and I were looking at houses, Chris and the realtor kept hounding me about looking at this house, and I wasn't having anything to do with it - it was on a busy road, I didn't want to be that close to the downtown area, blah blah blah... finally Chris forced me into it, by driving by the house. That's when I noticed "the shack": An old single stall garage, sitting perfectly alongside the back step. I'm rushing Chris and the realtor through the house just to get to this small garage. We got in there and oh my gosh! It was perfect. Just perfect for a soap studio, and so cute all in stucko with bright white trim, and cute windows. Right there I started planning out where stuff would go and what would need to be done... and then my husband breaks it to me that I can't have the garage, he needs it for his welding business BUT I can have the 90 sq. foot room in the basement. My face must have said something really bad, because the realtor very quickly stepped between us and said "Now, Sherry, what did you think of the kitchen - Did you see all the woodwork in the house - How about the fireplace - Please don't kill him here."
BTW: we bought the house, I'm making do in the basement, and he has used the garage TWICE for welding since we moved in 17 months ago...