Finding myself in strangers? homes
My family?s open-house hobby gave me a way to understand other people?s lives My parents have lived in the same house since the month before I was born, and they never, as far as I know, had any serious intention of moving. But when I was a child and teenager, our family visited open houses anyway?for fun.
On weekends, we?d drive out to houses on the market, either already-built homes in nearby towns or model homes in the under-construction new developments that, at the time, seemed to be springing up all over our part of New Jersey. My parents would pose as buyers, and my brother and I would endure the sales talk until we could all do what we?d really come there to do: wander through the house and imagine what our lives might be like if we lived in it. It?s a popular hobby in Sweden, where one in three Swedes visit open houses without any intention of buying property. But as a kid, I didn?t know anyone else who spent weekends this way. It was a hobby that felt like my family: maybe a little bit quirky.
We each had favorite houses. When I asked my parents recently what they remembered from those visits, my dad started talking about a house with a playroom that stretched above the entire two-car garage. My mom described a house with French doors that led from every room to an outdoor patio. It had a $1 million price tag and a kitchen with two dishwashers.
Walking through someone else?s home, even when the person is an imaginary ?model,? is an invitation to think about...
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