Shelter Porn:
I ogle bay windows and porches,
to gaze on such beauty unnerves;
My lust for her gingerbread scorches -
I love her Victorian curves.
My head can be turned by a Craftsman
with all of her angles and beams -
and oh - how I envy the draftsman
who mapped out the house of his dreams!
I might have to go into rehab;
another is now on my list.
She's more than your aver-age prefab -
her modules are hard to resist.
In youth I pursued a small castle -
thought nothing but turrets would do.
But cleaning a moat seemed a hassle -
now give me a cottage - or two!
While Tudors and mansions intrigue me
most bungalows seem quite a bore;
an earth-sheltered house I might dig me -
so ceiling can be the earth's floor.
And be it grand manor - or hovel -
potential will always be seen.
I'll swoon if it's weird or it's novel
(or even somewhere in between).
Too often I'm house plans devouring -
I know I'm addicted indeed.
And décor on Pinterest I'm scouring -
it seems an insatiable need.
Not just bricks and mortar - sheer romance!
Each residence needs to be eyed.
My heart is aflutter with each chance
to do some exploring inside.
In truth, my saliva is pooling
as I picture houses in head;
too much MLS leaves me drooling -
my fantasies never quite fed.
Sharon Flood Kasenberg, October 4, 2015
I can't remember ever not being interested in houses. As a very small child I loved being allowed to play inside at friends' houses because it was so exciting to see where they lived. When I was eight or nine my father visited a new housing development in the area and brought home a book of house plans, which my sister brought up to our room. Being four years older and wiser than me, she explained the various symbols on the plans that denoted closets and windows and doors and stairways. After that I noticed that the newspaper featured a house plan each week, which I began to study carefully.
It gets weirder. I was always an avid reader, but as an adolescent I noticed myself gravitating toward fiction that had pictures of houses on the cover, or referred to a house in the title. I figured that even if the book was a dud I'd at least find out a bit about the house. My brother thought this was more than a little odd. (I wonder if he'd be shocked to know that I still gravitate toward novels where a house or building are prominently featured?) No matter what I'm reading, I always play close attention to the passages that describe dwellings. Tolkein absolutely thrilled me with hobbit holes and beaver dams and castles, and I've always felt that Lucy Maud Montgomery must have been a kindred soul because she painted such vivid pictures of the various houses inhabited by characters in her books. Somehow I always feel that I understand characters better if I have a firm grasp on where they reside.
At my high school, they had a program called Building Construction where a house was constructed inside the school every year or so. My friends and I used to sneak through the halls during lunch hour to peek in the windows of the construction area. They were mostly interested in seeing cute guys swing hammers, but I was always more enthralled by the fact that an actual house was being built, and that I could keep tabs on its progress. Had I been braver, I would have signed up for the course myself, but it seemed that the girls who did so were accused of just wanting to be in a "guy course", and I was afraid of what people would think.
My first visit to Chapters brought a new discovery - they had a whole slew of house plan books that you could buy and take home and study at leisure! Needless to say I've acquired a shelf of them over the years, as well as books about houses, home building, and historical houses. I read them through, and revisit the pictures time and time again. I used to think that my fixation on house plans was odd, but I know a few others who share this particular passion. I can't speak for them, but in my case the floor plans are fodder for my imagination. I try to envision the kind of people who would live in each house, and I consider how the rooms would be used if I lived there.
But there's more to confess - I don't just read about houses and study house plans. In my thirties, the internet introduced me to the magical world of MLS - where with a few strikes on a keyboard I can look at houses that are for sale anywhere! I found the last two houses we've owned online before asking our realtors to show them to us. I have no doubt that I'll find my next that way too. Likewise, MLS gave me a pretty good education when it came to selling our last house. Our realtor joked that he didn't feel particularly needed during negotiations:
"You call that a comp?" I challenged when an offer came in from a prospective buyer. "The neighbourhood isn't as nice as ours, the lots are smaller, the houses aren't solid brick, and that house has a much smaller footprint, no garage and an unfinished basement! Comparable my eye! Don't take me for a fool!"
Needless to say that buyer's lowball offer wasn't accepted.
At times I've wondered if I missed my calling in life. Was I meant to be an architect or a realtor? I started out taking interior design in college, but soon realized that I was more interested in houses themselves than in home décor. Okay - so I do watch too much HGTV - and yes, I will even admit that the incredibly good looking men that can be seen doing home improvements there are nice to look at, but the transformation of the houses is the really exciting part. Real estate programs elicit a mixed reaction in me; while I love seeing the houses these shoppers view, I never really get how so many of them can miss the potential of a home because they're too blindsided by bad wallpaper or the wrong colour of countertops. Sometimes I jeer out loud when they opt to spend another twenty thousand dollars (or more!) for a house that is "move in ready" because they are afraid to paint a wall or two or replace a couple of dated appliances. Who would want to move into a new place and not put their stamp on it? Don't these people have any imagination at all?
That's what houses are to me - fodder for the imagination. When I take walks, I examine the houses I walk past. When I go on drives, I look at the houses I pass. (I don't drive, so nobody can accuse me of not paying attention to the road.) I imagine who lives in each house I pass and what their lives might be like. I don't need to imagine who likes living where they do - a swift glance usually gives me a pretty good indication of whether a house is a much loved home or merely a dwelling.
I imagine how I would live in that house if it was mine - what changes I'd make to improve the place. I ask myself if I'd want to live in a house like that - or in a setting like that. What stories does the house have to tell? Could I live there and love it?
Houses say a lot about us. Years ago, the mother of one of my son's friends came to pick up her son. She oohed and aaahed over our modest home, commenting on the paint colours we'd chosen and the dining room table I'd refinished. We didn't have a lot of money, so all of our home improvements were made on a shoestring budget. Still, this woman was clearly amazed by the effort we'd taken to make the place our own. When my boys visited their house, they came home reporting that their place was chaotic - messy, unloved, and completely devoid of the personal touches that make a house a home. We probably weren't much better off financially than she was, but we clearly had more pride in our home, as well as sufficient imagination and motivation to make our home a reflection of who we were.
Houses all have history, and they all have memory. The first house we bought was quite austere, but as soon as I opened the front door I knew that it had housed generations of happy families. When I asked neighbours about the previous inhabitants, I was told that he was a crank, but she was a wonderful woman who everyone loved, and yes - they had been a very happy family. The house had good feeling. Walls really do talk, without ever making a sound.
Houses represent our hopes for the future, our efforts in the present, and our level of respect for the past. Not everyone sees a building with the same kind of vision that I do. Not everyone sees what a house was, or could be, with a little imagination and elbow grease.
Yes, I'm an unapologetic appreciator of abodes - a relisher of residences. I look at houses, I think about houses, and fairly often I dream about houses. I like houses of all shapes and sizes. I appreciate old houses and new houses - as long as they aren't typical "development" houses - all variations of the same theme and lined up on tiny lots. (Yuck - ghetto housing for the middle class!) I love to read about innovative housing ideas - factory built homes, homes converted from other buildings and houses that are ecologically sound and as green as possible. Home tours thrill me, and the process of buying a new home is sheer bliss. I read house plan books. HGTV is my favorite TV channel. I spend a shameful amount of time on MLS...
My name is Sharon, and I am addicted to shelter porn.
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