My Perfect House

Back to the prompt book today. Describe your perfect house, it said.

We live in a nice neighbourhood, across the street from a really nice neighbourhood full of beautiful houses. I have been walking around our neighbourhood since Trombone was a baby, so almost five years. I know which houses I want, if someday, someone comes to the door and says, hey dude, just for being you we’re giving you your pick of houses.

I like houses that are symmetrical. There is a house I see all the time and it has steps up to the porch and then three feet to the right, the front door. Like, the stairs don’t end at the door. So when you’re walking by, you see stairs that end in WALL and then, oh, the door. I hate that house. SA thinks I am deranged for caring.

My ideal house will have three stories, be painted a nice colour, like blue or green (but not grass green and not a shade of green that clashes with the grass and yes, it is possible, it’s in East Vancouver) and have a big front porch. A veranda, I guess they’re called. A covered place to sit and drink tea or wine and watch people walk by.

There will be four or five bedrooms. I want a spare room for guests and an office to keep my junk in and a room for the kids to sleep in, and a room for us to sleep in and a room for SA’s computers / beer / telescopes / whatever he’s into this year.

The room that keeps my junk will be an odd shape, with corners and crevices and built-in shelves for books and knick knacks. The window will face the street and the street will be lined with big, old trees and there will always be people walking by; briskly or leisurely home from work, arm in arm for walks on warm summer evenings.

The master bedroom will have our bed in it. And a big window that overlooks the back of the house, that can be opened without fear of peepers or giant bugs.

Two bathrooms is enough. Right now we have three and that’s too many. One of the bathrooms will have a tub and the tub should be longer than six feet and deeper than four feet. The bathrooms will have windows. It’s only civilized. The summer breeze will blow the pretty curtains and freshen the room. Birds will chitter chatter, but no crows. I will ban crows.

The kitchen must be bright. I would love for it to be at the back of the house, overlooking our backyard and maybe some nature beyond it.* I adore kitchen sinks underneath big windows. It makes me more likely to wash things. Counters and a stove and a fridge and cupboards, lots of them. A full closet sized pantry would be nice. The kitchen will be big enough to have a large cooking area as well as a small seating area. Just a small table under a big picture window, where four people (or fewer) can sit and bathe in sunlight.

*in my ‘future self visioning exercise’ my future self lived in a house with the kitchen overlooking a river. It was fantastic.

Living room. I am vague on this. Big and roomy. High ceilings. Enough space that you don’t have to go back to school for a geometry degree to figure out where to put your Christmas tree. Not so much space that it echoes and is cold.

Basement with a rec room a must. I don’t care what it looks like. No, that’s not true. Carpet that is not disgusting, walls can be fake wood if necessary.

An attic or crawl space for the spiders to breed in.

I feel like I have to choose either a front or back porch but actually no, it’s my dream house. I want a back deck for grilling and lounging and entertaining people. OK, can I have a back deck AND a sun room? Because I love sun rooms. How could you not want to get out of bed and go drink coffee in your sun room?

The back yard will be grass and vegetable garden. And a big, old, thick-trunked tree. Big enough for a tree house. If the kids are too old by the time I get this house, I will hang out in the tree house myself. My friends had a tree house when I was a kid and I loved it.

The big front door will be heavy wood, with a window panel of stained glass at the top to cast rainbows along the front hall. The rain will pound against the rooftop, serious and loud and deliberate. We won’t be cushioned there, not insulated from anything but the cold. Splinters from the real wood floors will pierce our feet, the pipes will grunt, the heat will struggle to warm us. It will be hard work, it will be beautiful, it will be worth it.

What is your perfect house? Or apartment? Or VW van?