Imagine a home where one day we might roam the big grassy yard, its trees providing random canopies of shade. The German Shepherd free to run to and fro, from air condition to the natural air, with his fur still falling everywhere.
A place where wooden Montessori toys abound for a little girl just learning to toddle about them. Maybe in a designated room with colorful foam puzzle pieces, interlocking on the floor. The shelves will be little and lined with activity after activity: all practical, sensorial, and fun.
The room next door will be a working place of another sort, lined with bookshelves containing everything from literature and philosophy to poetry and theology. History of the Saints will also have its special place. An old wooden desk, perhaps vintage and found at a thrift shop or antique store, will be the platform where hubby burns the daylight and sometimes the midnight oil on law studies and the like.
Perhaps there will be a red door too.
In Chinese culture a red door means “the house is payed off”. And I like thinking our house is payed off.
There may be stairs in this house to climb; or it could be that I will never have to traverse, up and down, up and down for seven days a week again– like I do now with our second floor apartment. Dennis, the German Shepherd also likes that he may never have to ascend decrepitly to a square in the air for the rest of his life. The old man in his dog years says “woof!”–he would like that for the rest of his days.
Oh design and decoration! Let’s not forget those, a homemaker’s paradise. Because let’s be honest, it’s not the dishes and the laundry that the wife-mother fantasizes about. It’s in the details and little unspoken delights that accent the walls, the windows, and the floors.
Speaking of fantasies, did I mention the bedroom? And by bedroom I mean where the master sleeps. There’s a big lush bed for two to four, depending on who comes to the door crying in the middle of the night. Maybe more than four depending on how well the bed works…
Imagine the home, a place where love is fostered and memories are made. This is the place I’ll spend most of my days until a new job for my husband, a new adventure for our family, or simply a need for another space, tells us it’s time to move.
Well I could go on and on, but I’ll end here by saying it again:
Imagine the home.
Elizabeth Gracy is a mother, wife & writer. Her interests include developing as a Montessori educator, growing spiritually in her calling to the Order of Discalced Carmelites, and caring for her family. She has a degree in Speech Pathology and attended Texas A&M’s Master of Public Health program