My "Dream House"
Dec. 27th, 2012 01:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
capri0mniSo -- I've got this long term, long-short-medium fiction project going, and now that I'm recovered (mostly) from NaNoWriMo, my mind has turned toward it once again. What that means, right now, is putting thought into a main character's house.
And that's got me thinking about the kind of house I really want to live in.
What I really, really want to live in is a space that's round; circles are just friendlier than squares. And with about third (maybe even half-- not really good at estimating space by eyeball) less interior space. Seriously.
The big Master Bedroom-with-full-bath/roll-in shower is the right size, because need all that wide open, empty space to have room to maneuver my wheelchair (which is a feature that makes the current version of Tiny House Movement unworkable for most with mobility impairments). And I use the adjacent laundryroom nook. But:
When I bought this house (Before I'd ever lived in a house of my own) I didn't know that actually cooking three squares a day would be beyond my spoon count, and that I'd end up surviving on prepared food zapped in the microwave for 90% of my meals. So basically, all the space I really need for a kitchen is space for a microwave and a freezer/refrigerator and a table to eat at-- I've never used the oven, but maybe three times in the sixteen-plus years I've lived here (and those times, I had help, and it didn't really work). And I hardly ever use the stove anymore.
The "Great Room" (aka "living room" for Northerners) is nothing but a big empty space that I have to cross in order to get from by bed to my computer room -- it's also an empty space with walls in between that separates the part of the house that gets nicely warmed by the sun from the part of the house where I actually spend my time. The guest room has turned into a closet for all the stuff from the House on the Mountain, since Father died... it's only used by the cats, now, who sleep on the bed, that's somewhere under all the books.
And you know what? All that extra, unused space, is depressing -- it reminds me every day that the cultural norm is "Family of Four with a Dog" while I live "All Alone." If I had a genie, who could zap this from the house I have to the house I'd be most comfortable in (so I wouldn't have to figure out where to live in the meantime), it would shrink down and turn into a little round (one storey) tower, and I could be like the woman who lived in a vinegar bottle (image of a children's book cover, showing a woman sitting in a vinegar-bottle-shaped house).
The problem is: Zoning. There are rules that say every house in a neighborhood has to be a certain, minimum, size (so as to give the appearance of affluence, and discourage those icky Poor People from moving in). And my house is already the smallest in the cul-de-sac.
And then, I had an idea which amused me: Keep the foundation footprint as it is, and turn that into a terrace/patio, with architectural columns all around the outside to define the space, and a garden of potted plants with benches and tables... So the space my house would take up would look just as big as all the others, at first glance, and it wouldn't be until you looked closer that you'd notice that the actual living space was about half the size... Heck-- I could even make the columns two storeys tall, and top them with a trellis with vines, to make it match the roof lines of the houses around it...
Y/Y?
(sometimes, it's fun to make wishes, just for the sake of it)
And that's got me thinking about the kind of house I really want to live in.
What I really, really want to live in is a space that's round; circles are just friendlier than squares. And with about third (maybe even half-- not really good at estimating space by eyeball) less interior space. Seriously.
The big Master Bedroom-with-full-bath/roll-in shower is the right size, because need all that wide open, empty space to have room to maneuver my wheelchair (which is a feature that makes the current version of Tiny House Movement unworkable for most with mobility impairments). And I use the adjacent laundry
When I bought this house (Before I'd ever lived in a house of my own) I didn't know that actually cooking three squares a day would be beyond my spoon count, and that I'd end up surviving on prepared food zapped in the microwave for 90% of my meals. So basically, all the space I really need for a kitchen is space for a microwave and a freezer/refrigerator and a table to eat at-- I've never used the oven, but maybe three times in the sixteen-plus years I've lived here (and those times, I had help, and it didn't really work). And I hardly ever use the stove anymore.
The "Great Room" (aka "living room" for Northerners) is nothing but a big empty space that I have to cross in order to get from by bed to my computer room -- it's also an empty space with walls in between that separates the part of the house that gets nicely warmed by the sun from the part of the house where I actually spend my time. The guest room has turned into a closet for all the stuff from the House on the Mountain, since Father died... it's only used by the cats, now, who sleep on the bed, that's somewhere under all the books.
And you know what? All that extra, unused space, is depressing -- it reminds me every day that the cultural norm is "Family of Four with a Dog" while I live "All Alone." If I had a genie, who could zap this from the house I have to the house I'd be most comfortable in (so I wouldn't have to figure out where to live in the meantime), it would shrink down and turn into a little round (one storey) tower, and I could be like the woman who lived in a vinegar bottle (image of a children's book cover, showing a woman sitting in a vinegar-bottle-shaped house).
The problem is: Zoning. There are rules that say every house in a neighborhood has to be a certain, minimum, size (so as to give the appearance of affluence, and discourage those icky Poor People from moving in). And my house is already the smallest in the cul-de-sac.
And then, I had an idea which amused me: Keep the foundation footprint as it is, and turn that into a terrace/patio, with architectural columns all around the outside to define the space, and a garden of potted plants with benches and tables... So the space my house would take up would look just as big as all the others, at first glance, and it wouldn't be until you looked closer that you'd notice that the actual living space was about half the size... Heck-- I could even make the columns two storeys tall, and top them with a trellis with vines, to make it match the roof lines of the houses around it...
Y/Y?
(sometimes, it's fun to make wishes, just for the sake of it)
no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 08:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 08:57 pm (UTC):-)
no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 10:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 12:11 am (UTC)To be honest though, this was a thought that only really came to me this last week... but, when it finally did, it just clicked as making sense, you know?
no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 04:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 08:21 pm (UTC)You're utterly invisible (forgettable) behind the solid walls of a house, but outside the walls of your house, you are totally public. Sitting on a large porch or terrace is a more comfortable middle ground.
no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 07:10 pm (UTC)It would be nice to have the kind of house with just enough space for all the bookcases, the computer desk, and a kitchen where everything can be reached from a single standing place. And a little bed, a small closet, herbs in windowsill pots.
The space you describe as making the footprint larger without having to expand the home makes me think of loggia—not done up in the intimidating classical style, but simplified to make an outdoor/indoor usable area.
no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 08:17 pm (UTC)I don't think ambulatory people are aware of it, because, ever since learning to walk as toddlers, they can, and generally do, step over dips and divots under their feet without consciously registering their existence.
But when you're on wheels, you have four points in constant contact with the ground. It's basically traveling in two dimensions curved over three dimensional space.
So, on those rare occasions when I do go outside my house, where I can be seen by, and talk to, my neighbors, I'm restricted to sitting in my paved driveway or the walkway to my door-- and there's nothing I can really do, in that case... except sit there in order to be visible when one of the neighbors comes out to do some gardening or check their mail (which is how I made a concerted effort to be sociable the first few years I moved here... You can probably intuit why face-to-face socializing gave way to Internet socializing).
So yes, a loggia is just what I need-- a smooth, flat, open space where I can have a table to write or draw at, or read, and have benches and plants that make it clear I welcome people to come join me for conversation. Though part of me wants it to be done in a mock classical style... to spoof the faux opulence of suburbia. >;-)
no subject
Date: 2012-12-30 08:38 pm (UTC)For the faux opulence, I am imagining friezes carved in your sort of style, and perhaps a few cavorting women in excesses of cloth with expressions of deep surprise over the company they are keeping.
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Date: 2012-12-30 09:15 pm (UTC)And I was totally baffled, because those great big shiny letters on top of the facade rang zero bells, even though I'd gone in and out of those doors several times a day for three consecutive semesters... But then, that circular brick pattern looked familiar. And it wasn't until I cropped off the top of the photo that it looked "right." :)
no subject
Date: 2012-12-29 07:34 pm (UTC)The rooms rise like huge stairs, for the walking people who like them, but there's always access to the central ramp to move between levels. The rooms are oriented to the sun, with diffusing glass, so I don't have to draw drapes/blinds if I don't want to. (I WANT LIGHT).
Mostly this dream house also has a wood floored ballroom, like one I've seen in 1890s buildings. It sticks out the side at the highest point below the deck. I don't go there, but sometimes well dressed personages come waltzing out to entertain me.
no subject
Date: 2012-12-29 08:58 pm (UTC)In my most fanciful moods, I imagine living in a house like the Teletubbies' semi-underground burrow, with a long, spiraling, ramp down from the door, and a system of ropes, pulleys and winches should I need to evacuate in case of emergency without electricity for power.
The house I describe here is for if I want to stay in this neighborhood...