A month into house hunting my weeks are taking on a steady rhythm. On Friday we scan the MLS listings and plan what open houses we’ll attend that weekend. Saturday and Sunday afternoons we tour. Monday morning three a.m. I’m wide awake redecorating the most recently seen possibilities. Tuesday middle-of-the-night doubt creeps in. Wednesday morning another round of potential homes pops up in my inbox and I jettison the previous week’s near-perfect match.
I am exhausted by this latest round of “what matters most now” when it comes to where we live.
When we were in our thirties shopping for our first house we factored in school districts and potential play dates. In our forties it was a bigger house in a better school district. A short commute into the city was important to maximize dad time. And, of course, we always wanted to live somewhere distinctive and beautiful.
There were some compromises and plenty of projects with every house, but for the most part we were happy with our decisions. Now we have fewer parameters, but I still want:
1. Good light and vistas.
2. Thoughtful architecture.
3. Accessible garden space.
Specifically, I want to have sunlight from at least two sides in most rooms and see colorful blossoms, green trees or blue sky outside my windows. I like expansive (not necessarily large) public rooms and more moderate private quarters with a few elements of surprise along the way. As to gardens, I can thrive in sun or shade as long as there’s a bit of dirt to dig in.
Anything I’m forgetting? (Help! This whole process has me quite sleep-deprived.)