I've had several conversations with friends lately where I've been on the receiving end of the question, "So what's new?" I usually respond with the latest crazedparent family buzz. But then I get the same question only this time it's, "Cool! But what's new? The word "new" is always said with a hint of excitement as they wait on pins and needles for me to spill a shocking revelation. I thought it odd the first time it happened, but when I noticed a trend in this question, I started to ponder what could be the root cause of such interest ...and what they expect to hear. "We quit our jobs and are moving to Italy!" "I'm pregnant AND we're having triplets!" "Rick Springfield left his wife and I'm running away with him! And the triplets are his!"
Finally, one of our friends clued me in asking "Are you moving?" followed by, "I read your blog..."
Remember the not-so-gentlemanly person that that called me an asshole when we were visiting an open house? Apparently this post has led many of our friends to think we're buying a new house.
Like many of our homeowner friends in Silicon Valley, we outgrew our house the moment we moved in. I love our little shoebox and I adore our neighborhood. It has such charm and character, as realtors like to spew. But the sharing of one bathroom with three humans of the male species? Ugh. The daily utterance of "Stay off my desk!" while the boys play in our office/playroom? I've said it so many times I hate hearing my voice. Storage? Non-existent. So after several years in our casita, we've reached that milestone where we need to contemplate three choices: move, remodel or rebuild.
We're in no rush and the current economy is a little too wicked for my taste, but we love looking at open homes for inspiration and to get a better grasp on the layout we'd like, the design that makes us drool, the asking price that makes us drop to the floor in laughter. We also look for ideas on how we can better adapt our abode into a better living situation until we're ready to make a decision about what to do next.
One of the reasons the green house appealed to me was its incredibly efficient use of space. The materials were gorgeous, but the home wasn't overdone. There were no superfluous touches of grandeur like a large foyer or massive, separate dining room with dangling chandeliers. It was simple, beautiful and appropriately sized for the lot. Trust me, this is a novel concept in Silicon Valley. The fact that the home was eco-friendly was a bonus.
Still, I am a contractor's daughter. I grew up watching my dad, and now my brother, build homes. And so the blood to build our own place runs deep in my veins. I can already smell the sawdust as it sprays from a skillsaw buzzing through plywood. The aroma of sap dripping from a newly-framed room. Swoon.
If we rebuild, I hope we can afford to go green. In the meantime, I'm on a mission to create more space by cleaning house, purging non-essential items, and organizing every closet, drawer and shelf in site. I call it post-partum nesting syndrome.
The focus is on simple living with the intent of making our stay in this tiny home last longer. Or at least long enough for me to convince my husband to turn this mutha' out so we can build the green house of my our dreams.
But still, I have no news.
