I’ve always been a bit vague around my dream home… perhaps that’s why it’s still not something I’ve attained… but I’ll try to describe it:
The first thing I notice as I walk in the door is the mix of aromas. The hallway is fresh because the house is opened up daily to the great outdoors. Flowers from the garden in a vase, incense. Aaah, homecooking – my nose takes me to the kitchen. Faint smell of smoke from the woodbellied stove, essential oils in the bathroom. An absence of artificial perfumes and chemicals. Deep breathing. Out in the garden I discover earthy smells – herbs, flowers, compost, faint smell of fertiliser and a hint of manure.
The garden is lush and green, earthy, dotted with flowers, birds, butterflies, insects, a few ornaments, a bench seat, a pond and a wee bridge. Back in the house I find colour, warmth, mismatched furniture, recycled objects, candles, cushions, paintings and photos, musical instruments, books, rugs, inspirational quotes, sacred spaces, something or other my partner left lying around. People gather or pass through and share cups of tea and meals, children play with the few toys and whatever they find, play hide-and-seek or climb trees.
A verandah for lazy afternoons, a few bedrooms, an office, a couple of cosy tucked away corners for time-out, all the usual features. And an outdoor fire-bath under the stars.
Sounds of music, laughter, love, tears, long phone conversations and the buzz of a computer, the rustle of newspaper, wind in the trees, a call of ‘muuuuuum!’ or ‘daaaaaaad!’, birdcalls and other wildlife, perhaps some chooks.
Long baths, hugs, walks in the rain, calloused guitar fingertips, a hot mug of cocoa.
Inspiration, perspiration, experiences and love.
My home is Heaven.