My cousin in Denver is selling her house, which makes me a smidgen sad, because I’ve looked at the real estate listing and discovered it is full of wood.
I am deeply in love with old houses. Perhaps it’s because I’ve never lived in one, so I’m not acquainted with having the eaves buzz like millions of wasps every time the wind blows, or having rats skulk around the basement. And don’t forget uneven walls.
But the fact of the matter is, there are few new houses which can copy the charms of a delightful old house with crown mouldings above and worn hardwood floors below. Even in newer house with crown mouldings and hardwood floors, it’s just not the same. You can’t fool me. They LOOK new. The crown mouldings are not even real wood these days. Humph.
When I look at MLS and dream (this is what I used to do on car websites before I bought my car), I always peruse the oldest houses first. I love them whether they’re big old farm houses (mmm square footage) or centuries old capes with bake ovens and wainscoting galore.
Don’t get me wrong. I need modern amenities like air conditioning and indoor plumbing. I am a princess after all. (Says she who sleeps with a fan all night long to make white noise and a pleasant breeze.)
In fact, when it comes to Martha Stewartizing my future home, I will probably stick to modern draperies and furniture. Marrying the past and the present appeals to me. We get to take tradition and history and reinterpret them. Fun, fun!
Back when I was knee high to a grasshopper, I wanted to be an interior designer. I used to watch Lynette Jennings and play with my stamp collection. (Stamp collection, yes. I am now lowering my head in shame.)
When I discovered interior design would involve a lot of drafting and measurements (ugh, math!), I soon gave up the dream. I think I would have made a good designer because of my creativity and joy of colour; however, I’m okay with just decorating my own house someday (and probably redecorating and redecorating every 5 years.)
Old houses just seem to be a more desirable canvas, what with all their REAL wood (including solid doors, sometimes with crystal-like doorknobs!) and other features. My heart will go into palpitations for plank flooring. And tin ceilings! Oh baby!
Plus, I need square footage. I require space for my mind to wander; it just refuses to do this in a small house. I also need a room of my own (Yes, Virginia!) for a library/office. I own thousands of books necessitating an extra bedroom or den. Or an ultra-ginormous living room so it can be choked with bookshelves.
Thankfully, in the real estate market, there’s something for everyone. I’m sure, once I finally pay off my student bills, I will be able to get something that makes my heart go pitter-patter.
It will be old. It will have a place for perennial and herb gardens. A building for some chickens. A lawn for a dog. A backyard for a pool.
And inside, real wood.