Thursday, 3 December 2009
My Dream Home
Jason Evan's post about a recurring dream reminds me of a house I've visited dozens of times, yet I've never been there.
His place is eerie, but mine is awesome.
It sits at the end of a long dirt driveway, facing south. It's a "post and beam" home with an open concept. Windows line the sides and front, but the back has a solid wall, at least on the ground floor. It has warm barnboard walls and ceilings crisscrossed by thick wooden beams. Further back are guest rooms and a lot of bathrooms. I probably dream up all those bathrooms because I have to pee in the middle of the night. :)
A wooden staircase is in the middle of the house, open on all sides. It climbs three or four stories in a zig zag pattern. Along the way are random doors, some leading to more rooms and one a secret passageway with a shortcut to the basement. I remember a room at the very top, like a copula with windows all around, showing a fantastic view. It has a daybed with plenty of colourful cushions and a thick quilt. I imagine reading or writing up there, with the sunset streaming in.
The basement is a single space, like the ground floor of a barn. Lots of garden tools line the walls. It's dark because the windows are small, but light spills in when I open the large swinging doors that lead to the back. I'm guessing it's an underground garage slash workshop.
On the main floor, the kitchen is on the other side of the staircase. It is open to the living/dining area, like one big Great Room. The kitchen has cupboards with glass windows. I open the cupboard doors to see delicate looking plates on vertical racks. The next cupboard has elegant glassware and some vases or pitchers. All the cupboards have interior lighting, like little halogen pot lights, making the glassware sparkle.
The sink is one of those deep square copper lined deals, but it's full of dirty dishes! My dream house is a slob.
Antiques and collectibles fill every corner of the house, especially the second floor. Some are stored in trunks that serve as tables. From a window on the second floor I can see down the length of the driveway while sitting in a wooden rocking chair. I can see cars approach in plenty of time to head for the front door to greet visitors.
Behind the house, a path leads north through gently rolling terrain to open water. I think it's a large lake rather than the sea. It is often grey - I don't see the sun shining often in this place. Smooth rocks form an inlet, like a sheltered beach. The water here is shallow and clear. I imagine we have bonfires here.
I don't know why I dream about this house. I don't think it exists. But wouldn't it be cool if it did? In the meantime, I think I'll use this house in a future book.