Sunday was gorgeous. The sun was shining, all of the snow had melted away, and it was a balmy 40F. The Hubby and I decided to walk up to Calhoun Square to make some much-needed Vitamin D, and to stop at Jimmy Johns for sandwiches (well…a sandwich for him and a gluten-free lettuce wrap for me).
Along the way we ran across a nice-looking 2.5 story house for sale, which sparked the time eternal husband-wife Dream House Conversation. The Hubby and I have radically different views on what the ideal house looks like. I want a house with lots of hidey-holes, closets, odd rooms, funny half-levels, and stairs and doorways arranged every which way. I like older, established houses that have Character.
My sort of house. Image Source
The Hubby wants a big garage, a place for him to set up a workshop, and a man den. He likes strong angles and unique features, but most important above everything else, the Hubby wants a New House. He thinks an older house would be too much work; he wants to start fresh with a recently-built house or a brand-new construction that won’t give him any headaches (I call poopy-cocka on this because every house gives you headaches. It’s just more disappointing when the new ones fall apart). He actually likes cookie-cutter subdivisions – blech!
The Hubby’s sort of house. Image Source
But we both agree that owning a certain styles of a smallish, converted church would be incredible. I love the wonky architecture in some churches, and he likes the brick work and big open area that would be left from where the congregation used to sit. Although according to the Hubby, it would need all updated fixtures, plumbing and any structural repairs done right away so he wouldn’t have to fix anything later. F%^&ing stubborn Swedes.
Dream house! Image Source
Anyway, that was an unusually long lead-in to a MPC, but this is the conversation that started up after running across the house for sale in South Minneapolis:
Me: That one looks nice.
The Hubby: Yeah, it looks well-kept. Hey – it’s got one of those barcodes. Scan it and see if it tells you how much they’re asking.
I scan the QR barcode and the property information comes up.
The Hubby [grunting]: Wow. Someday, maybe.
Crossing the street we pass a HUGE church with beautiful stained windows and stone walls.
Me: I want that house.
The Hubby: [perking up] Yeah!
Me: Can we keep the stained glass windows? They’re awfully pretty and not overly religious.
The Hubby: Sure.
Me: I want to model it after that place in Saint Louis that we visited.
The Hubby: The City Museum – definitely!
Me: Really? You’d put a slide in?
The Hubby: Hell, yeah! A slide, a couple of fire poles, a tight winding staircase. I mean, we could have regular stairs too, but it’d be fun to jump out of bed and slide down to the kitchen for breakfast.
Me: Hey, can we put an elevator or a lift or escalator in, too?
The Hubby: No way.
Me: But what about our friends and family who don’t navigate stairs so well?
The Hubby: I want everything to be green and not require any energy use, so when the apocalypse hits we can still use our house.
Me: Oh, right. ‘Cuz when the apocalypse hits, our house is going to still be standing. Or if it does actually make it through whichever disaster scenario we go through, we’re not going to be overrun with survivors looting us for all we’ve got.
The Hubby: Well, that’s what the machine-gun turrets are for.
A comfortable pause as we walk along and consider our house.
Me: Can we rig up a pulley system lift that doesn’t require any energy?
The Hubby: Sure, why not? Now, where in an ex-church is a good place to put a leathercrafting workshop?