It’s breathtaking, it’s beautiful, it’s quite possibly someone’s dream home. You can’t see it in the picture but the Coronado Beach in San Diego, CA is in view of this house. Can you even imagine? If I lived there I would wake before sunrise every morning and run on that beach. I would sit on the sidewalk across from the house and just admire its beauty.
Definitely my dream house made of wood, nails and dry wall. Definitely my dream house located next to an ocean. But my dream house in the less concrete version I already have in my home. Yep, my home with the half completed patio and the room that has not been reconstructed so it holds only storage. The house that needs so many repairs, my house is my dream house. It is my dream house not because it is perfect (it is not), not because it is breathtaking (it’s pretty but not breathtaking), not because I live by the ocean (I don’t) but because it is my home. My children, husband and I have created a home from our house. It is warm and cozy, it is inviting and simple. It is filled with my family and everything they love. There are cushions on the basement floor that the kids climb on while playing pretend. There are many pairs of running shoes out that my husband uses to train for his races. There are car magazines all over my son’s floor and drawings on my daughter’s desk. There are stuffed animals on beds, and fish in fish tanks. There are pictures of my children through the years framed everywhere and precious moment statues given to me with love on shelves. It is filled with memories, laughter, tears and family; my family, and so it is my dream house.