One of my favorite games to play is “Dream House.” There are no rules—you just list everything you’d want in your own to-die-for house. I can pretty much rattle off my wish-I-hads in my sleep:
- A large kitchen that opens up into a big family room with a massive fireplace.
- All the bells and whistles in the kitchen, including a Kohler Crevasse sink.
- A walk-in pantry.
- A garage. (Minor to you, perhaps, but if you’ve never had one, this is huge.)
- Four bedrooms, with the master suite on the first floor.
- Bathrooms everywhere for everyone.
- A pool with a hot tub.
- A closet large enough to hold all of my clothes—regardless of season.
- Two offices: one for me, one for the sweet man I married.
- A library with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a rolling ladder.
- A laundry room with a sewing spot.
- A back hallway with cubbies.
- An indoor dog kennel with a heated floor, air conditioning, and a handheld shower.
- A lower level with a theater and den for my daughter and her multitude of friends.
- An exercise room. (I don’t really want this, but I know I should.)
I have fine-tuned my list over the past two decades of strolling through other people’s houses and turning 22 shades of green. I suffered my latest bad bout of envy when I entered the house you see on the cover (and on pg. 38). The homeowners built it—and left all the details to the designer, Jimmy Jamieson of Jamieson Design. I frequently wonder why that isn’t always the case. More times than I can count, I’ve seen people plunge into the world of new construction without a clue. I’ve done it, too. When we added on to our house, we got help. but somehow we still ended up with oversized furniture that had to be rebuilt, a carpet with a seam in the middle of the room, and an open vent under our deck that gave all the neighborhood possums carte blanche to take up residence in our basement.
Lesson learned: Hire the best you can afford and then stand back. Way back.
My newest dream (and my motivation to play Powerball) is to hand my dream-house list to a really good architect. Next, I’d meet with a designer whose taste I adore and show him or her all the possessions I could never give up, then pick my favorite colors, fabrics, and furniture, and ask my husband and daughter to do the same.
Then I’d get the hell outta Dodge. Let the designer handle the headaches.
Call me when’s it’s done.
Just please, make my dream house come true.
