There was a show about dream houses. Since I had hand work to do I watched even though I have no intention of moving. The moderators traveled through Spain to tour homes that are innovative, and unique. In each case the architect was welcome to challenge parameters of what a design looks like, and to delve into avant guard materials. Like rusted steel, and concrete circles. One had a long, slender pool that was suspended off the second floor outside a bedroom window. Another house was embedded in the hillside, with gardens and chickens just past the door. 

 

It was playful to see the reactions of the two guests, as they explored a bed that rolled out from underneath the steps, and glass walls that open up to the outdoors. One complex was owned by three sisters who wanted their families to be both close and separate. 

 

I notice that coveting houses has its own commandment. A full tenth of the Divine Instructions for a heavenly path. Such feelings can come up when opulence meets domesticity. 

 

Some of the homeowners spoke about what went into their plans. They were remarkably simple.

 

"I aspire to be close to nature. With glass walls it is as if I am outside."

 

"My job is demanding, and when I get home I want to be able to just be. Do nothing."
 

"The floor plan includes a common place for our three families to be together. That makes me happy."

 

Later that evening John pointed the moon out to me. She was especially luminescent, shining in our window. We sat there together, doing nothing more than watching the night sky. The twins drove up after an evening with friends, and I heard their chatter as they climbed the stairs. 

 

Some blessings are within reach.