I can usually tell when I am totally focused on some topic right before I go to bed. I managed to bring forth one of my favorite recurring dreams, that of having just purchased a house, and discovering all of its secrets as I walk through it. This morning, as I was reluctant to wake and lose the story in my head, I dreamed of buying a house in the mountains. If I remember it correctly, we had bought it for its location primarily, but I thought the curb appeal was so severely lacking I pondered knocking it down for a complete rebuild (it's always so nice to have an unlimited budget, as you do in dreams). This house dream went like so many of them do, as I walked through the house and it got bigger and bigger, as hallways led to rooms, which unfolded into suites, and neat vintage furniture was tucked away in room after room. After the part of the dream where I realized that the kitchen had been partially stripped, with cabinets and stove parts missing (and I decided it was actually an opportunity for a complete remodel, to make it exactly like I wanted), I finally had to give up and face the day. I can't express how disappointing it was to realize I will never actually get my hands on that house. It was fantastic (in the literal sense of the word, too).
The lingering desire to start a dramatic remodel of a house had me sneaking in a few remodel shows on television as I went about my day. I saw one where they knocked down several walls, and created one massive great room with a completely open kitchen, massive reclaimed wood round table, kid study space, and a family room area. It got me thinking about how much things have changed over the centuries. A thousand or so years ago, communities shared a giant space, sleeping in one massive room, with a fire in the middle of the structure, to keep the whole group warm and fed. Privacy was unheard of, and there were fewer walls chopping up interior spaces. As the classes stratified, more walls went up. I've toured fancy Renaissance and Enlightenment era homes that had lots of rooms, but oddly few corridors. There was a growing distinct line between public rooms and family rooms, and increasing complexity within those divisions. Eventually you could even find middle class houses with separate staircases for the home owners and their staff. I started wondering about the mindset that craved that separation. Was it a Victorian era status symbol, to have your home cut up into as many tiny rooms as possible? The more interior walls, the better off you were? They didn't seem to mind that the rooms were small, as long as they were able to be closed off.
People don't live that way anymore. Tell me the last time you went to a party where you didn't walk into the host's kitchen at least once. Everyone wants to congregate in kitchens, but for decades, we made them so small and closed off that was unfeasible. I will never again consciously choose a house with an isolated kitchen. I would rather sacrifice upper cabinets all day long for a dearth of walls between the kitchen and living areas. And that was the part of the dream where I woke up--right as I was pointing out the wall that I was going to tear out. It left me feeling interrupted, and so all day, all I have wanted to do was swing that sledgehammer, and tear down that wall that blocked the view from the stove to the living room, in a house that doesn't actually exist. I need a new project, and I need it soon. Else I may start picking apart things here that are best left alone.
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