house thoughts

I love looking at houses. Yes, I'm nosy, always have been, but it's more than that. Houses are as interesting as people. I love to see what flowers are planted, what color the door is, what statues or decorations dot the scene. Even messy yards hold a certain mystique. And I especially love small cozy houses. 

When my oldest daughter was in fourth grade, her teacher Christine had all the families out to her parent's sprawling country farm for the weekend so the kids could film a movie as a class project. This was a public school, and Christine's generosity was so far beyond the call of duty that I couldn't help being inspired by her. The weekend was a blast. 

One night around the campfire, we adults got to talking houses. The farm house was like a hotel, with over a dozen bedrooms and several extra houses dotting the property, so most everybody was in awe. Christine told us the story of the small house she grew up in till seventh grade. 

She loved that house because in it, she was always near her parents and four siblings. In that house, she said, they talked a lot and often played games. There was only one living room where the family spent their evenings together. 

She actually got a bit choked up remembering seventh grade, when her dad unexpectedly inherited a fortune and the family moved into a mansion. She no longer shared a room with her sister, or had to share a TV or couch. In fact, with all that room, she said she rarely saw anyone except at mealtime. She hated it, complaining that it was the worst thing that ever happened to her family. I always remember that story. While any size house from tiny to expansive can be a happy home, when I see a snug little house, I think about Christine and the cozy nest of her childhood.