My parents have a house. A real house, like by itself surrounded by grass, and as a special treat for them, there is a "lake" (large pond) in their back yard. Their house has three bedrooms, a big kitchen and dinning nook, a open living area, a den, a sunroom...
But, the thing about living in middleofnowhere is you get space. I could imagine Ranger running around in their yard, playing with his cousin while the adults watched from the deck or sunroom. The den was once the garage, which was converted into an office before it was ever used as a garage, so you can totally have a party in there without disturbing any one (not that I tried that, mind you- we lived the town over when I went to high school there).
But the only way that I could have that space and live in NYC is to hit the lotto for a kazillion dollars.
Funny thing- I had drafted this post before NewYorkCitymomma posted hers, and it's along the same lines. Check it out
***
If you're wondering about the previous post that is just a picture - it's my mom's cook book. There is no cover any more, the entire thing is sorta sepia toned, the pages curl, and the spine is losing its glue so that whole chunks of pages can be removed. In short, it's a well loved and well used cook book - the best kind.
Yes - a love of space is what seduced me into leaving my beloved city of Chicago for the greener-seeming grass in the suburbs.I wish I had stayed longer.
ReplyDelete