Dream house

April 8, 2010

My cousin asked me recently if this new house was my dream house. It took me a minute to answer, because honestly, that thought had never occurred to me.  I guess the answer should be yes, Yes! I mean, it’s a wonderful house, in a neighborhood I love, in walking distance to  many, if not most of my best friends, my husband’s best friends and my kid’s best friends. Its two blocks from our neighborhood park, which is across the street from a cupcake shop. It’s around the corner from a public library and a little convenience deli that makes good sandwiches. It’s a stone’s throw from great shops, restaurants and even, if you could throw quite far, downtown. And its in easy walking distance to Lake Washington. I mean, seriously, what more could you want?

But a dream house? That’s a term I don’t use lightly. It conjures up all kinds of  lofty thoughts, and frankly, none of which we are thinking right now. We are too  mired in the details and stress of completion, unemployment and tax season. Honestly, it all feels like too much somedays and we want to bury our heads in the sand and dream of days in our first house, playing with our babes in the babypool in the backyard.

In my mind a dream house is a house of ease. No work, no loans, no mud, no cabinets to put together, no shelves to mount. It’s a house where all that is already taken care of and to top it all off, it is sited in a beautiful garden in a warm climate. My dream house is not a big house either. Who wants a big house to worry about, clean, and keep up? And if I had that kind of money to just pay someone to do it for me I think I’d rather spend it on other people and visiting other places. Nope, the big McMansion with formal rooms, and unused spaces, and surpluflous stuff is not for me, not for us. 

My dream house is less about the structure but more about a state of mind. And because we are not in, or any where near that state at this point in time, my answer to my cousin is no, it is not my dream house.

Yet.

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