It was a nasty chore! It was an experience – we were not ready for…
And after paying for two sets of blueprints – we began to abhor
Deciding upgrades and the choices galore.
We were also young – and still felt imbalanced from the move-
Hard to build a house while looking for a new life groove!
Also- we were in career mode and had young kids
Our interests were FAR from designing a custom crib!
Then an issue with our lot gave us the chance to walk away –
We decided to buy an already built home- the very next day.
But here’s the thing – we have changed since that time-
And building a home now – would be mighty fine – even sublime!
I now – finally – know what I would want with “this and that”-
From the southern exposure to the type of welcome mat.
But the real exciting choice – and the reason for this poem…
Is because choosing the front door – will be a special part of this home!
So we can welcome each guest – with some special front door flare.
Will we choose a double door? – Or a single frame with sleek wood?
Well all I know right now is that it’s going to be GOOD!
In the meantime, I will enjoy the artsy doors I see along the way…
Which includes following the DOOR BLOG – that allows me to dream away.
Because a door can be a work of art – and enjoying them helps fill the heart.
Also – because Victor Hugo has been mentioned in a few posts this month, I thought I would give you an excerpt Hugo wrote about a cool door – it comes from Les Mis:
“After traversing a hundred paces, skirting a wall of the fifteenth century, surmounted by a pointed gable, with bricks set in contrast, he found himself before a large door of arched stone, with a rectilinear impost, in the sombre style of Louis XIV., flanked by two flat medallions. A severe facade rose above this door; a wall, perpendicular to the facade, almost touched the door, and flanked it with an abrupt right angle.
In the meadow before the door lay three harrows, through which, in disorder, grew all the flowers of May. The door was closed. The two decrepit leaves, which barred it, were ornamented with an old rusty knocker. The sun was charming; the branches had that soft shivering of May, which seems to proceed rather from the nests than from the wind. A brave little bird, probably a lover, was caroling in a distracted manner in a large tree.”
and go here to check out a door post called Last Dance….