The perfect house

A home is a sanctuary, an entrance into a special place to recharge and restore.
entrance

The perfect home for me involves a lot of places to lounge about near natural sunlight.

There would be reading nooks with lots of pillows.
IHLOFT1005_02
nook3
nook2
nook1

The bedroom would have a view onto the garden.
bed1
bed3
bed2

The dining room would have an entire wall be a window. The focus is on the outside, not the inside. Notice the sparse furniture. Simple, efficient.
dining1

The yard would be enclosed in such a way that nobody could get in, but the walls would be concealed on my side with plants. This would provide safety without a sense of being trapped.
yard3
yard4

The back yard would have a staircase
yard1

That led to an outside room, perhaps like a Japanese tea house. But it would have cushions and pillows.
yard2
yard5

In some ways I like the idea of an outside bathroom. It feels daring and bold.
bath2
bath14
bath4
bath1
bath6

But it also seems like it would be cold and drafty.
bath8

So then there is the idea of a bathroom that has a lot of light – again, the idea of a private yard would be necessary.
bath13
bath3

A view out onto a Japanese tea garden would be excellent.
bath5
bath12
bath11

The house would have no straight lines – all curves and waves, with white or cream on the walls. The color would come from the floor and accessories like pillows.
living1
living2
living3

And there would be a lot of books. And tea. And craft supplies.

Poem – The way home.

In my heart I didn’t know
what to expect
when they were stubborn.

All are not happy
about the fact
that you are going
through my fears
after all these years,

because it isn’t about making them
dependent upon you.

Grief comes from kindness,
regardless.

I’m trying not to mention
the time of year
you are going through.

I’ve heard she has been taught this time.

Never mind that.
Now I’m adrift too many years.

The way home is stuck in my heart.

Chattanooga, February 2013

My husband and I went to Chattanooga (my hometown) to celebrate his birthday this year.

A view from the Art District, downtown Chattanooga.

chatt7

chatt8

A glorious sunset. Near the Hunter Art Gallery.

chatt1

chatt2

chatt3

The glass bridge.
chatt5

The horse made of driftwood.
chatt9
chatt10

Now on Missionary Ridge, crossing the South Crest bridge. This was part of my regular walking path when I lived here. chatt22

Seen on the way. They were digging up the sidewalk and putting in underground pipe.
chatt6

A manhole on the way.
chatt15

Steps.
chatt17

A survey marker.
chatt16

The steps to a Civil War memorial park.
chatt18

While there.
chatt13
chatt12

I’m a little freaked out by the apparent young age of the soldier.
chatt14

A neat marker.
chatt19

The neighbors of the park have a deck that is cantilevered.
chatt20

And they have built a playhouse for their child. I’m a little envious of it.
chatt11

A view from the park a little further on. There was a house here, and it started to slide down the side of the ridge. The city took down the house and put in a little park instead. It was my destination point, and a nice place to rest. I wanted to show it to my husband.
chatt23

More moss!
chatt24
chatt25

Back at Bragg’s Reservation. I played here a lot as a child. I’m not happy about this new building.
chatt21

There was a school here. It became a museum, and then it was abandoned. The building burned down one day. They removed all the debris over time. I played here – around and over all of this, in all the incarnations, for much of my life. This was essentially my back yard. I had heard that there was a clause in the deed to the land that said the land could only be used for educational purposes, so to see housing here is disturbing. At least the building is in keeping with the aesthetic of the place.

You really can’t ever go home again. It just isn’t the same.