I'm not overly fond of our house. On a company-clean day I like it quite a lot, but I can't say there's anything I really love about it -- except our orange door. I love that door!
I know that one day I will look back and remember this house as the place we hammered out family issues and grew to love each another more, and maybe then the lack of personal space and the toilets that sing in the night will be but a dim memory. One day, but not just yet.
The house may not be all my dreams-come-true, but there's something remarkable about living here that I really do appreciate. It's being a stone's throw to both adequate amenities and heart-stopping natural beauty. We are at a kind of crossroads between commerce and countryside. If we turn left at the end of our street, we've got plenty of businesses -- supermarket, drugstore, doctor's and dentist's offices, hair salons, restaurants, cleaners, theater, schools, gyms. Turning right, we run right into nature -- jagged snow covered mountains both east (Cascades) and west (Olympics), ever changing skyscapes, trees dressed for the season, farm fields presently at rest, driftwood lined beaches. Just this morning, standing at the kitchen sink, I saw the enormous vivid white wings of two geese passing behind the trees across Pioneer Highway. I can take you to two or three huge nests in the area, made by bald eagles. Siberian snow geese blanket many nearby fields, displacing the usual seagulls. (When I lived in Japan we drove two hours to see the same birds; now they are in my own neighborhood.) Some days the Stillaguamish River is brown and angry and nearly over its banks; other days it is quiet and blue. Coyotes in the nearby ravines often sing us to sleep.
My favorite spot of all is where you turn off Pioneer Highway onto Miller Road, the one that takes you diagonally down the hill, across the old bridge, and onto the flats. The view from that spot is glorious, different every day. Those clear blue sky days with the snow dazzling on the Cascades, or the early morning mists hanging over the fields, they take my breath away. And that's just a three minute drive from home.
Why don't you meet me at our orange door and I'll show you the neighborhood.