Today in church during our Young Women class (Aside: is it Young Women's class? I never know how to tense this correctly. If the name of the organization is Young Women, then shouldn't it just be Young Women class? After all, we don't says Boy Scouts' meeting. We just say "Boy Scouts." Maybe the confusion comes from the fact that they are both a lower case group of young women and part of an organization called Young Women. End aside.) the teacher was conducting a lesson on Making Your House a Home. A concept which is very broad and involves all kinds of things. We discussed spiritual, emotional, physical environments as well as all kinds of craftiness. Of course.
Anyway, during one part of the lesson, she read a quote from somebody who had spent some time in Holland and they commented on how welcoming each home looked, with its large glass windowpanes accented only with fresh curtains and a windowboxes filled with bright geraniums. The person being quoted (circa 1967!) also noted that the homes were often given a name. These names carried such cheery designations as Sunny Corner, Sunbeam, Sun Cottage, Peace Haven, Tranquility. She then asked the girls to imagine what their own dream home looked and felt like and what it might be called.
I remembered the pictures of the houses I diligently cut out of Better Homes and Gardens each month when I was a kids, as well as the few I designed myself during the I-want-to-be-an-architect phase. (That was right before I realized I had zero art talent.) Spiral staircases. Three story great rooms. Dens with 20 feet stone fireplaces. Kitchens with huge butcher-block islands under shiny copper pots and amazing smells. Walk in pantries filled delicious, decadent things to eat. Lofts where children play cheerfully together and always put their toys away into bright, color coded bins. Two story libraries with sliding ladders along rich, mahogany book shelves. A laundry room with benches and hooks and shoe cubbies and a chute from the second story. . . you know, all the normal stuff people dream about. And then my mind flashed to my own home and its barely organized chaos, tiny bedroom and ever-cluttered spaces with my three little Jedi constantly underfoot and in my ears. My mind drifted as the teacher got feedback from the girls and then she asked, "What name would you give your home now?"
Titters on the back row from the girls who have been brave enough to babysit here.
Oh? Did I say that out loud? Oops.