Houses…homes…all with a different vibe…but all with the same Call to Arms… Before the first spade hits the dirt, before the basement cement poured, the first brick laid…your home has an innate, unspoken sense…. That what goes on between the walls…Stays within these walls….
Not at all like trees, whose roots reach out, tickle, entwine the trees surrounding them, while branches stretch forth, their leaves touching, softly caressing each other… be it oak, birch, or chestnut … giggling, sharing secrets of what they heard as they efficiently pass on things that were, that are and will be…
Houses…homes…not so much. Secrets stay within the walls…only spilled out if the Two Footed Owners talk or it is such a grievous vexation (like blood is spilled) so the local constabulary is called to sort out the melee, surround the crime scene with yellow yellow and black tape that innocently flutters in the wind. Law enforcement then gather the evidence, speak for the victims and haul off the perpetrators… (if they can find them). Otherwise, those squeaky clean, church going next door neighbors are as much of a mystery to you as your own kids are to you…when the hormones kick in…
Of course, if your lot in life is to live in an apartment or a condo, you may hear raised voices, see shady individuals hanging around…giving you a clue…that maybe…just maybe, your neighbors who nod, friendly like, and live in said dwelling may be battling demons…but still, please God, I have a full time job…I have to sleep to survive, let there be peace…at least tonight.
In the suburbs…where the lawns are all green and trimmed, the flowers shout hello to you as you pass by, the homes are all made out of ticky-tacky and all look just the same, it is indeed surprising to know that family with that over-achieving child, who gets straight A’s, makes the Football or Cheerleading Squad, and is on the way to a full scholarship at a prestigious university (well, according to their parents)….. is actually also a Meth Head…got in with a bad crowd, they claim….makes your own kids still look…although confirmed underachievers (say the teachers, but what do they know?), decidedly more appealing.
Meanwhile, off in the country, where everyone knows everything that happened to everyone for the past five or six generations (or so they think …but they are not judging anyone…uh, right!), there is a different dichotomy. In between your farmhouse with the pastures of cows, sheep, horses, and that gleaming manor on the hill, overlooking the stream that flows into the river, will be a ramshackle, abandoned homestead, where the youth hold all-night-long binges, much to the chagrin of the landowners who resent ATV’s crushing their crops, cruising their manicured lawns, noisily causing mayhem. Where is that peace that the owners thought the countryside would deliver????
And so inside the walls of the homes that house the Condo/Apartment Dwellers, the Suburbanites, the Farmers, the To-the-Manor-Born, the Belligerent Youth, there are secrets, tension, pain that breed contempt ….yet still, your home is your castle, be it humble, middle class or grand, your touchstone in times of trouble or joy…where you return to in your thoughts and nightly dreams…For better or worse, it cradles you, keeping secrets close…only known by those who traveled the same road…felt the blows and raised above them..
Who knew, Smart Homes were coming, who knew…locking and unlocking your doors, turning off and on your lights, spying on your nanny or even your children and spouse…
Now, will someone please step up and create the Happy Home App?We’re waiting…..
