Last night The Funasaurus and walked through a model house. Because that is what we do for fun. Because we are fly like that.
It was a very pretty house, and sent my mind all a-twirlin' with thoughts of columns! And built in bookshelves! And pretty cabinets! And somehow, between fantasies of cherry hard wood floors and shower big enough to have an orgy in (complete with seating!) somehow I was able to ignore facts like: The Funasaurus is between jobs. I am going back to school to further plunge us into debt. We are about to have a wedding, which has already sent us down the debt spiral.
But why should I worry about those little details when there are nickel-brushed faucet heads to be had?
I have always fantasized about my dream house, and it has changed over the years (read: no longer PINK!) but overall there are some consistent features. Warm colors, lots of wood, a place for a huge-ass Christmas tree, comfy furniture, a closet the size of our current house, an attached garage, and secret passageways. Oh, and goats in the back yard.
Is that really so much to ask?
The house we saw yesterday had the potential for some of those things (though the goat would have to be ridiculously small and not very hungry with the 4 square feet of yard we'd get) and I deigned to get my hopes up.
My brother and I were raised in an amazing house, and I still see it just about nightly in my dreams. I've always kind of wanted to have a house like that, although with today's market and my distinct lack of a winning lottery ticket, that is a pretty far-off dream. But it was the kind of house that felt magical, built by an architect and his crazy botanist wife who deep-root-fertilized the heck out of all the trees on the property to the point where one of the “ornamental” dogwoods had grown so large we could climb it as high as our roofline, and a weeping cherry tree (nicknamed for me because of the PINK flowers that tended to bloom around my birthday) was actually larger than the entire house. No exaggeration. It was enormous. I remember crying desperately when it was pruned because I thought it had gotten a haircut, and I revered long hair more than just about anything else on this planet.
I have always been rather... girly.
We didn't have goats, but we did have an orchard that would attract deer, including baby fawns with spots, and there were tons of wild rabbits that I adored, I think because their ears reminded me of long hair (do you see a theme?) and which I could admire much more closely once my cat had killed them and brought them to a door as a trophy. The blood was a bit off-putting, but they'd never stand still long enough for me to touch them when they were alive, a la Sleeping Beauty, which is always how I saw it going in my head.
I'm not really sure where I'm going with this tangent. Just reminiscing. But I think most people have a tendency to have some really special memories from their childhood home. Does anyone else have these kinds of stories?
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11 comments:
I also believe that a house isn't a home until it comes with a goat.
My parents still own the house I've always lived in. But also agree that a big place for a christmas tree is very important.
Well, there is no need to have memories of the house I grew up in, since I see it pretty much everyday. (We opened our daycare there.)
But I know that I DO have a dream house. Have you seen Practical Magic?
This is what I want. Big old house, yet not decrepit.
Balconies, view on the (river/lake/sea).
A Green-house room to cultivate as many plants as I want.
Plant pots everywhere near the many windows.
Of course, a roomy kitchen with rustic wooden tables and chairs, many pantries and cupboards, garlic and copper pots and pans hanging around.
Pretty cloches with fruits and bread on the ceramic counters.
Lots of light!
Wood everywhere and colorful curtains. Victorian rooms, like the ones you see in Country Style magazines.
Ooooh!Those bathtubs with lion feet! And candles everywhere.
Huge trees and forests all around. Near a cute little village.
Now you got me dreaming....
I went in some new model homes last weekend......there were lots of beautiful built ins. And a basement.....I would just be happy with a basement for all our crap.
I grew up in a 3 room house with 5 teenagers and my mother--we had 1 bathroom! It wasn't fun at the time but looking back I'm grateful for all of the "character" I got from dealing with that! My dream house is a sprawling brick home with beautiful landscaping, white snow, and a wood fireplace.
http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=7058124
I yearn to have a house w/ a big lot so I can have lots of dogs and some farm animals too . . . goats, and sheep and a cow and some chickens and a vegetable garden and fruit trees . . . and I actually picture myself as some sort of pioneer woman living off the land
The one place I would go back to in a milisecond is the old homestead where I grew up. It is still my dream house. And I spent 15 years of my life making a wage writing memories such as you've described here. Make sure you keep them and publish them for your offspring
Mishy- Christmas tree room is a key element of any home. Even if it is a small tree that stands on a table, it still should be a stratigcally placed table.
LilyCurly- We basically have the same dreamhouse. Wanna go splits-ees?
Leah- Amen on the basement. Our next house will DEFINITELY have one of those!
Kate- See, character is good. So are fireplaces and softly falling snow, though. ;-)
Rebekah- GAH!!!!!!!!!!!! WHERE DID YOU FIND THOSE? DO YOU REALIZE HOW PERFECT THEY ARE? (I assume so, seeing as how you sent me the link.) I NEEDTHOSE. The only question is how to return the candles I had custom-made. (Yes. I did.)
Diane- I totally picture myself as a pioneer woman, too! The fresh vegetables, goat cheese, cute bonnets, and perhaps also air conditioning and Mike's Hard Lemonade. (Just to ying the yang.)
Pauline- Hi! We were typing at the same time. In any case, yes, I am also very attached to the place I grew up. But I am a little afraid of sharing that with "offspring" because I will never be able to maintain (nor afford) a place like that in my lifetime.
At least, until I get that winning lottery ticket. Or inherit the kingdom. Either way.
The houses i grew up in were...whatever.
But my dream house had a round room way up high with window seats with red velvet pillows where i could read all day and look at the sky.
I live two toddlers, which are kind of like goats. They eat everything, jump everywhere, and have been known to hump tables.
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