The Lens:
Years ago, we planned a vacation with some friends. There would be seven of us all together – four adults, our two children and their one child. When looking for a house to rent, we decided on a more spacious one to comfortably accommodate all of us.
The house had the usual kitchen, dining area, living room. There were also four bedrooms, a family room, an enclosed sunroom, and a deck. All rooms were very spacious. No worry about us feeling crowded.
In comparison, our San Francisco home is (was?) known as a Jumbo Junior 5 (if anyone calls them that anymore), that is, a home with a living room, kitchen/dinette, bath, and two bedrooms. No formal dining room. We had recently added a third room in the garage which we were using as a family room at the time.
All rooms are decent sized but not necessarily what one might call spacious. In other words, we kind of live on top of each other.
A couple of days before we were to go on our vacation, our friends had an emergency and were not able to go. It was too late to cancel the reservation, so we went on our own.
When we got to the house, it was late, well after dark. We scoped out the house and decided who would sleep where – we had a lot of choices. Once that was settled, I went to what would be my husband’s and my room and started to unpack.
Soon after, my husband came in, pulled out his book, and plopped on the bed to read. Shortly after that, our two boys came in with the chess set, put it on the floor, and began to play.
We had this big house with all of these rooms, and here we all were, camped out in one room (a bedroom, no less). My husband looked up from his book and said, “God, we are small house people.”
The Refraction:
I talked about what home is in my “Home” post, more from a feelings standpoint than the physical aspects of a home.
We lived in Texas for a few years in the 1990s. The house we lived in was huge compared to our SF home. There were two levels. Upstairs had 2 bedrooms and a ridiculously large playroom. Downstairs were the master bedroom, kitchen, dinette, dining room, living room, family room. It was well more than twice the size of our SF home.
The boys had their bedroom upstairs as well as the playroom which, with the Texas weather, we had set up as an indoor play area.
The thing is the boys were never upstairs. They were always downstairs in the family room next to the kitchen. I ended up bringing most of the playthings downstairs.
Why is it that when we have had the opportunity to spread out, we choose to be on top of each other? It really baffles me.
I can understand why I would gravitate toward that. I had three sisters. I didn’t get my own bedroom until into my teens. There was also a considerable amount of time my cousins lived with us.
My uncle was In the military. When he was stationed in Vietnam, they lived with us. After the war, they moved around a bit, and would occasionally stay with us between transfers. When they stayed with us, I shared a bedroom with three others. The only one who had their own space during this time was my male cousin (the only boy of seven kids living in the house) who slept on a cot in the dining room.
Space? What is that?
This might explain my inclination toward close-quarters living. It doesn’t explain, though, why my kids would drift toward this. Maybe it’s in the genes.
Would I like a bigger house? That’s a tough one. I love looking at houses. I used to subscribe to Architectural Digest to look at all of the grand homes. Yet, one of my favorite TV shows was “Tiny House, Big Living.” Tiny houses seem more my style.
I have never really understood “the bigger, the better” idea in terms of housing. I like everyone and everything in my home in close proximity. Think of the herd dog that tries to keep all the sheep corralled. My home is a blanket that envelops me.
I know. Sounds crazy.
This makes me think of a “Cheers” episode “No Contest.” Per IMDb.com: “Diane reluctantly enters the Miss Boston Barmaid contest, but only so she can publicly denounce the competition as sexist and chauvinistic.”
Diane ends up winning the contest. She starts to give her speech deriding the contest when they start bestowing upon her all of her winnings. They start small, six months of dry cleaning, etc. She turns, takes each gift, then goes back to the mike to continue the derision . . . until they get to the grand prize – a week in Bermuda. When she hears that, she drops everything, and starts screaming and jumping for joy.
At the end of the show, she is lamenting to Sam, the bartender, she can’t believe she sold out her ideals for a trip to Bermuda. Sam replies most people would have sold out for the dry cleaning.
So, after just presenting all of my lofty ideas on small house living, what if the opportunity presented itself where I could have a bigger house, would I jump on it? If I am being honest, I think the answer is yes. It would be wonderful to have more closet and kitchen cabinet space. And, it would be great to be able to have a sit down dinner for more than 10 people (we have a big family).
The question then is, would I sell out for the trip to Bermuda or for the dry cleaning?