Brick houses in the suburbs are like the lines of marching band members in the Rose Bowl Parade. They have different marching patterns and different uniforms, but basically they all do the same thing. Some can play Notre Dame’s “Victory March” or Oklahoma’s “Boomer Sooner” and get the crowd really moving…others can barely muster a weak “There’s No Place Like Nebraska”. Like football fight songs, brick houses are just about a dime a dozen.
I take that back about the dime a dozen comment. It just seems like there are rows and rows of similar brick houses. These home prices are outrageously expensive for an expansive brick monstrosity like we tend to see in large city suburbs. What’s the matter with a mortgage on $850,000? A whole lot is wrong with that price. In fact, I may be going a little too low with the price estimation. And the money is being spent on just another hum drum brick house with five bedrooms, a media room, and enough bathrooms for a school building. Give me a white frame house with shutters and wide windows.
The windows would look out on a porch with a ceiling fan and a swing moving gently in the breeze. A big yard filled with tall pine trees and patches of flowers would be wonderful. I can see it all…the sidewalk would wind up to the front door and the sounds of birds singing would permeate the air. Somewhat eclectic and decorated with whimsy, the house would be filled with laughter and friends. There would be a step or two up and a step or down all over the house. Who designed this house anyway? It certainly isn’t “open concept”! This house has character written all over it. Buyers today would be shocked! No spa bath! No double sinks (HELP)! No island in the kitchen! Turquoise counter tops and turquoise appliances! No vaulted ceilings! This house is really downright different! As they say on HGTV…”we just can’t see ourselves here”! A rescue call to the Property Brothers would be necessary.
Alas…the Property Brothers were not even born when this house was in it’s prime. This was the house that I grew up in…the best house ever and still one of my favorite childhood memories. There were no houses on my street that remotely looked alike. I knew all of the neighbors and they knew me. There was a very special miniature golf course a block or two away. There were kids galore running around. My house was the center of my world. I could sit in the porch swing for hours. I had my best friends over for an “after the prom” midnight breakfast in the formal dining room. My boyfriends came to the front door and sat in the entry hall. My mom and dad talked and played cards and ate chocolate pie in the breakfast room with their close friends…everyone having fun and being way too talkative!
I loved their friends and I loved my parents and I certainly loved our white house with the shutters…on the corner with all the tall pine trees. The house was just beautiful to me. I wouldn’t call it particularly fancy, but I did call it home. And I absolutely loved that it was not built with bricks!
It was a wonderful house. I loved it too. And love the memories of being there — good times!