You know how you want what you never had, don’t have, or will ever have? I’m working on it, but that’s me to an extreme.
The first thirteen years of my life were spent in a tiny, one level, two bedroom house. Five of us. I had two sisters and all three of us shared a bedroom. We had one bathroom with a bathtub but no shower.
In grade nine, my parents bought a three bedroom trailer and I’ll never forget how excited we were the day it was delivered to our yard. It was a brand new home and my older sister would have her own room.
We still had just one bathroom but at least now we had the option to shower if we wanted, which I’m sure my Dad was thrilled about because he was (and is) Mr. Water Conservation. He still lives in fear of the well drying up. And my parents still live in that trailer they bought in 1990.
I had friends who lived in enormous homes. They had an upstairs, a downstairs, a dining room, a sitting room, a rumpus room etc. Guess what, I found out later that none of them were as lucky as I was. Every single one of them had problems at home, in one fashion or another.
But I grew up first, in an embarrassingly small home that Dad would surround with flax bales in the winter to help keep us warm. And second, in a trailer. I still make trailer trash jokes, as I’m allowed.
My tiny homes were filled with nothing but love, security and stability and I’m forever grateful for that.
However, when you ask me what my ideal home is, I automatically default to a structure that’s huge, a mansion. All types of rooms for doing all types of things. Who doesn’t want that?
Or then again, who does?
bloom.planted.north 
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