My house is small,If anyone can tell me where this comes from or why it's stuck in my brain today, you're better than a mind reader. I suspect it's one of those poems by the infamous Anonymous, who has written more than any writer in the world. It's a great little poem, with simplicity at its heart, and it fits perfectly with today's moodling about my dream home.
no mansion for a millionaire.
But there is room for love
and there is room for friends.
That's all I care.
I'm one of those lucky people who actually lives in hers. It's a 55 year old three bedroom bungalow, nothing fancy, but there are so many simply wonderful things about it:
the light right over the kitchen sink
dual clotheslines in the back yard
an ironing board that folds into a cupboard in the wall
lots of nifty little cupboards and shelves
a cold storage room under the stairs
a shallow basement with eight foot ceilings
a big picture window in the living room
oak kitchen cabinets
big trees out front
pear trees out back
a little park across the street
a cinderblock fence
and lots of garden space for vegetables and flowers
Of course, the folks from Better Homes and Gardens Magazine would probably laugh at my dream home because there's nothing new or chic or trendy about it. I can imagine any number of people gutting the place and renovating, especially the kitchen.
We've lived in it for seven and a half years and have done just a few renos to make the place more functional, practical, durable and energy efficient, but I love it even more than the day we moved in. Not only does it have all the wonderful features mentioned above, but now it holds wonderful memories, too:
a surprise housewarming sing-song in the living room
painting various rooms with friends and relatives
gymnastics performances in the basement
kids hiding in cupboards
our daughters' sleepovers with their favourite cousins
pear picking and amazing garden harvests
August backyard birthday parties
singing around the Christmas tree
garden ball games
a weekend for two, at home with no kids
back alley Mary bringing apple pies and pizzelli
special guests (including cousin Leo tonight, on his way to Cambridge Bay tomorrow!)
crazy budgie friends (and their hallowed burial grounds in the lily of the valley patch)
impromptu dance parties
Easter egg dyeing at our lopsided kitchen table
Mabelle waving out her window next door
walking miles and miles with the local ladies
What can I say? It's my dream home. There is room for love, and there is room for friends. That's all I care.