I want a home with space enough for my children to run and play outside. To ride bikes, to throw balls, to color with sidewalk chalk. I want space for a sprinkler or Slip n Slide during the summers. And to do all this within the safety of their own yard, in their pajamas if they like (but maybe swimsuits for the Slip n Slide).
I want fruit trees – avocado, pomegranate, and lemon. I want rosemary and lavender bushes on either side of the front door. I want a little garden and a compost bin full of worms.
I want a little fire ring we can dance around on the Summer Solstice, hand in hand with friends. I want a tree draped in colorful ribbons and bells and windchimes. I want a moon garden with a spot for a scrying bowl. I want to create a magical space.
I want a washer and dryer that is not coin-operated, one that I don’t have to leave the property to get to, one that I can just toss in a load whenever we are at home. I want a clothesline.
I want to use gray water to feed our garden and trees. I want to explore native plants. I might want a small cactus garden in honor of my grandmother.
I want a space for my kids to craft and learn. I want shelves for all of their toys and books. I want orginization.
I want all my boxes of holiday decorations OUT of my closet.
I want to paint the living room a warm red color. I want wood floors. And a Roomba. And I will probably want to cheer it on.
I want a bathroom with a window. And perhaps another bathroom as well, or at least half of one.
I want levels. Two steps down into the living room makes me feel happier than you can imagine. Cozy, like a bird in a nest.
I want counter space. I want storage space. I want cabinets that do not shave off 1/4 tsp of rotten wood each time I slide a drawer open. (Am I asking too much here?) If I am dreaming big, then I will add that I want an extra fridge in the garage.
I want a garage. And, frankly, I don’t even care if I can park the cars in there. If it keeps our stuff organized I will happy park in the driveway. I want a driveway. I want garage shelves stocked full of barrels of coconut oil and whatever flour it is that I am into at the moment. I want a place for our big freezer that’s not crowding our dining table.
I want a home that makes me feel comforted and peaceful. One that I can open up to gaggles of children without feeling claustrophobic. I want all these things, but not much more. I want a home.