When I was 8, I thought it would be…um…cool (sorry) to live in an igloo. We did a project on them at school with the requisite stale sugar cubes and I found out how efficient they were to heat, how bright they were inside and they just looked like a really unique place to live!
Never mind that the climate in my southern Canadian locale would only support a melt-y house for about 2 months a year.
Even after abandoning the igloo idea (not before trying to construct many overly-ambitious and unsuccessful prototypes in the back yard in January), I continued to dream of someday living in a unique, vintage abode. I don’t say “house” because when I picture said wistful mirage, it’s not usually a house that comes to mind, but rather a tugboat, Italian trulli, treehouse, factory, library or water tower. Less home-sweet home: more home-vintage-home.
If you’ve ever enjoyed programs like Extreme Homes or You Live in What? then you might understand my leanings to the non-traditional roof over one’s head. My vintage summer camping abode fits the bill perfectly in the form of our 1974 Boler travel trailer. I am so vintage geeky that I sometimes spend an hour when I wake up in the mornings, still under the covers of the kitchen table/bed, looking around and giggling happily to myself. Shhhh, don’t tell anyone.
For year-round options, it’s challenging to find tugboats or vacant water towers in these parts…but I do come across the occasional converted church, like one I dragged my husband to not so long ago. He is ever so handy and practical so while I’m busy sighing and swooning over vintage details like original leaded glass windows and doors, creaky floors, and slope-y ceilings, he is wandering beside me muttering things like “very drafty in winter until all 12 exterior doors are replaced”, “joists need supporting from underneath”, and “likely no insulation in the ceilings”.
That particular reasonably-priced, beautiful, full-of-potential-pie-in-the-sky space was going to need more than $150,000 in immediate deferred maintenance, according to my feet-very-firmly-on-the-ground husband.
Since I am a bargain vintage lover on a budget, some of my vintage dreams just don’t make practical sense.
It’s like the igloo all over again.
But, I keep looking. After all, that’s half the fun.