I enjoy house hunting. It became a hobby over the years since we bought three houses so far in our married life and I’m pretty sure I’ll be buying at least one more. I’ve always wanted to live in the South. I think I need to own a house and live down there at some point.
I’m tempted when I see a real estate sign decorated with balloons on a Sunday afternoon to stop and tour the house, but I don’t because it isn’t fair to the agent or the home owners. I’m not buying at the moment, why get their hopes up when someone knocks on the door?
But I have to get my fix somewhere so I watch HGTV. It’s my go-to channel. Home shows are my kind of reality television. Yeah, I know, not cool, but what do you want from a middle-aged mother of two?
My favorite part of every show is the big reveal. The home owners return to find their house has been transformed into a show palace. Everything has a place and everything is in place. There’s even fruit on the counter nestled in a large, pretty bowl. Does anyone in real life actually do that?
In fact, does anyone’s house ever look like they do on HGTV? Mine certainly doesn’t, though I wish it did. There’s no large bowl of fruit on my center island because, I don’t want to take up the room and fruit goes bad after a
while. I can’t leave it there forever. Sometimes the fruit even gets eaten. Which technically would be a good thing, but not when you’re trying to go for a look. You know what I’m saying?
While I’m watching those shows and we see the homeowners in their “before” house I think, are they going to keep that new house clean and neat? If we paid them a surprise visit would they have mail on their counter like I do? Would their shoes really be tucked neatly into the entry bench by the back door? Okay, sometimes our shoes are. I’m OCD, remember?
And what about the little home office the fancy designer tucks under a stair case? What’s that going to look like in a week? You should see my desk. I strive to keep my entire house neat, except for my desk. It’s the true reflection of the creative side of my brain. I have piles everywhere, notes on top of those piles, the printer, books on the craft of writing, and a small spot left for my laptop. It’s no wonder I take myself to the kitchen or outside to work. That mess is way too distracting to the anal side of my brain.
I’m starting to talk myself right off my HGTV fix. It’s not reality television. It’s nothing but fantasy and adventure. Hey, wait, I write that kind of stuff. I can’t walk away just yet. Nope, I’ll make a cup of tea, clear a spot in the kitchen, and stay a little while longer.