Your Home

Describe where you live, in poetry or prose or lists or however suits you best -wanderlust

Ok here it goes

As you walk up a side walk made of 2x6's nailed on to a couple of 2x4's (watch out for the missing boards) you take in a house made of large square timbers and covered in white stucco with a steep roof covered in green metal (with the green missing in places) and a lovely wooden door with a brass knob. You reach out and take hold of the knob and turn it. you push on the door and than bang it with your shoulder cause it dosn't want to open. You finally get it open and step inside. You are greeted by a dog who may like to take a small chunk out of you but you get introduced and pretty soon he's waging his tail. If you're lucky the smell of fresh bread (or some other scrumtios vegitarian food)baking in the oven. As you follow you nose to the kitchen you notice off to the right of the door a large telescope (maybe we'll take it out tonight and look at jupiters moons) Also to the right is a table with several oil lamps waiting to be lit for dinner. There are more lamps sitting on the window sill (18 inch wide thick wood sill) and on a table set up to serve from. A row of glass jars filled with noodles and rice, beans and raisans (and muck more) form a set of shelves between the dinner table and the kithen. you see green tile counters and wooden cabnets suronding the room on two sides. A 'fridge and a hoser take up the other side and in the center of the room is a wooden table who's top is a large cutting board. Ok thats all for now. at some point I'll write more.

-----Ruth-----

Lessee... my house... hmm. We live in a (so called) really good neighborhood... lots of kids (!). We've got a relatively small house... the first floor. Well, here- I'll give you a sort-of tour of the house. When you walk in the door, there's a *very* small front-entry-type thing. You turn to you left, and there's a very small closet where we cram all our coats and things... to your right is our living room, which is again, small, but cozy. Everything's pretty much centered around the fireplace, as we have fires going quite often during the winter. Standing in ou living room right after the entry, you can go straight, which would take you to our kitchen, right, which would get you to the computer room, or left which would take you upstairs. Let's say you go upstairs. The staircase turns twice on it's way up, and when you get to the top, there's a small hallway, which isn't really a hallway at all. It's square-like, and if you go left and turn around halfway to your left, that's my room, if you turn again halfway to your left and go straight, that's my brother's room, directly to your left is the bathroom, and to your right is my parents' room, as well as a tiny little closet that we never ever use. Let's go back to the kitchen now... the rest of the upstairs is boooorrring. So you're in the kitchen, and if you walk all the way through it, on your left (again) there's a staircase to our basement. At the bottom of the staircase is our piano, and to your left is our couch, tv, stereo, cd player, vcr, etc... all around you are smallish speakers for the 'digital surround sound' that dad just HAD to install a while back. If you go into the corner-type-thing, there are 3 doors. the one directly in front of you is boarded up for the time being, the one to your right gets you to our extremely crowded workroom, and sorta' maybe kinda' bathroom (with a trench the size of texas in front of the toilet, nonetheless! just ask Ry or Lotus) The door to your left gets you to our laundry room, which isn't all that great either.

That's about it for my house... -JessicaSkater

I live in a messy room in a slightly less messy big house in Austin, Texas. Saying my room is messy is an understatement there are books and papers and tapes and pictures and clothes and CDS all over the place in my room. Walk in, glance up at the left wall which is wallpapered with cutouts from magazines, pictures, ticket stubs, and various weird bits and pieces, step around the mask and magazines on the floor, leap across the cereal box, jackets, bag, sock, books, and printouts to the file drawer, take another leap over cd drawers to my crowded desk or my crowded bed, and take a peek over the bed to the rest of the mess and the crowded with words and figurines bookshelves before darting out with fear. The rest of my house is better, cluttered but spacy and warm and usually filled with good music. Austin is a beautiful city, full of students and old hippies and rastas and coffee kids and ravers and music geeks and famous people. Home away from home for me is Flipnotics coffeespace where just down the street, I can always find a good coffee drink for cheap, a handful of people I'm acquanted with, a cute boi or grrl behind the counter who knows my name and what I want, and a semi comfortable chair and small table to rest in for hours. Yay.

My dorm room is a box with three doors: one to the washroom, one to the closet, and one to the world. There's books and papers all over, with lots of odd things posted to the wall: postcards, pictures, German notes, guitar charts... everything at an angle, nothing straight. There's a table by the window, and a desk with a bunkbed mounted above it. And then there's my bed with the flourescent reading lamp over it. And everywhere there's memories of James. I can see him everywhere. - Christy

Ok, this is my home of the moment: You walk up to the building, and up to the door. You're greeted by several people on the deck right above the front door as they listen to loud music. They yell what's up, and you walk inside, and into my apartment, which is small and cozy, with a beautiful rug, and posters all over the walls. My door is always open to the hall. Right acroos from me live Zack and Geoff. Zack's a hardcore capitalist and geoff is a hardcore anarchist. They have a bumpersticker that says "stop bitching and start a revolution". stuck to their door. That's the only thing they agree on. Usually, gabe is in my room, or I'm in his. He's my best friend. He has long brown hair and a hilarious smile. He plays guitar sitting on my bed, as my roomate walks through and cracks a joke about his obsession with pink floyd. I play along with mbira, and everyone sings. My friend lani sprawls on my bed, reading thucyddides' pelopennesian history, complaining about the noise but refusing to leave. Someone yells that the simpsons are on and everyone runs into our common room and wrestles on the floor for a comfy spot. That's about it. Lots of music, and lots of people. - beckina

sounds like a piece of heaven.

Maybe I should try and visit the people in Portland for a day or two.

Stu P.S. I will add more about my home when I get the chance.