My Divorce House

No, I’m not getting a divorce. I read an interesting article a woman wrote about the dream house she would have if she didn’t have to decorate her house for everyone else – if she were divorced. It got me to thinking about what I would want in a house if I lived alone and didn’t have to please masculine sensibilities. So I started dreaming about what I would want in my divorce house.

First of all, it would have to be a small, clapboard cottage. Of course it would be white with green shutters. There would be a small porch on the front overlooking the English flower garden where hundreds of daisies, sweet peas, asters and roses spilled in riots of color. A comfortable chair with overstuffed cushions would be there allowing me to sit in the morning, watching butterflies and hummingbirds float over the flowers while I drank my coffee. The back of the house would have a long porch with wicker furniture, especially a divan on which I could spend hours lying there looking at the lake that backs up to the house. It would have to be located in a spot where the winters didn’t drop below sixty and the summers never reached ninety degrees (I don’t know if such a place exists, but this is a dream and I can set the thermostat to whatever temperature I want).

Inside, there would be a lovely little front room filled with shabby-chic French furniture in pastel shades. Nothing glaring, just Monet colors that soothe and please the eye. Everything would be comfortable; the kind of furniture you sink into and that holds you cozily while you read a book. Of course there would be chintz, to remind me of the flower garden just outside my front door. I would also require that there be a small fireplace with a Victorian mantel decorated with Staffordshire figures and, since this is a dream, Meissen. I could sit in my plush chair, in front of a fire on cool nights, and read to my heart’s content. There would be no television and certainly no Internet to interrupt me.

The house would only have one bedroom (my mother-in-law has a saying “Company is like fish, they start to smell in a day”). The bed would be a feather bed with lots of pretty quilts in colors of light blue, aqua, light sea green, white and a touch of pink. Yes PINK! No man to grumble and complain about it being sissy. AND lace, might as well go girlie all the way. There would be an elegant country French wardrobe done in white to hold all the clothes I would need – no dark woods for me. A small dressing table, decorated with lovely art glass, say Favrille or Galle, would complete the look. Everything would be light and happy. It would be such a pleasure to wake in the morning and be greeted by the sun and the garden in my room.

The bathroom would have a huge, claw-foot tub where I could soak in bubbles with no one wanting to know what I was doing. A small sink and, of course, the necessary would make up the rest of that room. White subway tile would cover the walls and the floor would be tiny mosaics of flowers. I think I am getting a theme going here – flowers.

The kitchen would be small (I don’t intend to do much cooking after all I would be alone). The stove would be white enamel and the refrigerator would be just big enough to cool the wine I intend to enjoy on the back porch and hold perhaps some chicken salad for lunch. A tiny dinette table against the wall with a banquette for me to lounge on would face the lake so that I could be inside and still enjoy the quiet tranquility of the water while I ate croissants and chicken salad. I’d have to wait on the wine until later in the day because I wouldn’t want to fall asleep just yet.

I wouldn’t want the modern conveniences: no telephone; no computer; and no television. Silence and my own company would sustain me until… okay reality steps in and there you go. I’d have to know if my son was okay and what about “The Walking Dead”? Oh, and how could I listen to music? And the hubby…how could I not want him around? He provides a lot of entertainment with some of the things he gets into. No, my dream home would have to stay just that – a dream. I’d get too lonely after a while and I would miss things. But sometimes, when things get hectic, wouldn’t it be nice to have an escape? A place that is only yours and no one else’s.

Have you ever given any thought about how you would furnish your dream cottage/house/penthouse? What would you want it to look like? Where would it be?