When I own my first home, I want a large plot of land and on that land a house with a front door, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a bedroom. These are the necessities. I will decorate them with precision—with the small collectors items of My Life thus far. Every inch will be meaningful and every room will be worn in and loved for its purpose.
Then I will add a living room and fill it with the new friends I have made. And a coffee table from my grandmother’s home. And there will be a fireplace to comfort us in the brutal winter.
Then I will add a dining room for times of celebration and the daily communion of supper. I will find the right rug that reminds me of Thanksgivings spent with my family. The china will feel right in my hands. The wooden table will be sturdy and able to withstand the meaningful conversations held within this meaningful room.
Then I will add a porch to waste away the cool summer nights and carefully observe the beauty of children’s imaginations.
Then a guest bedroom. Then an herb garden. Then a billiard room.
One after the other so that each room is given the adequate attention.
Big homes never feel worn in. Who wants to move in and look at an empty room and think “Maybe I can put my out-of-season shoes here.”