It was ridiculous. It was absurd. Here I was sitting in my ballroom with the pool contractor and landscaper looking at the two quotes that equaled nearly $80,000. The plans before me outlined an elaborate pool that would have designer glass tiles and flagstone trim, a dramatic deep end flanked with a slide worthy of an amusement park, a free style kidney shape surrounded by a carefully orchestrated landscape. The concrete would be fluid and curvy with a meandering path to avoid stairs from the top of the driveway to the lower loggia. The exterior stairs from the upper screen porch would be modified to break up the linear slant, offering a more elegant entrance. I could imagine my backyard turning into a beautiful oasis. The sound of the four fountains swan diving into the pool would be delightful and relaxing. The soaking deck would hold an umbrella and my Adirondacks chairs would fit perfectly under the shade, and I could picture myself with a glass of wine cooling my feet there. More importantly, this project would be different and better than every other house in the neighborhood with a pool. But I didn’t actually plan to swim in it because I really don’t enjoy being submerged in water.
In 2005, we purchased our dream. Our forever home was located one town and county east of our first home, but still within 20 minutes of my village: my parents and grandparents. The award winning school district was in high demand. The suburban neighborhood was small, consisting of 35 luxury homes with deed restrictions to minimum size plots and square footage. We were the youngest buyers at age 30 when the subdivision was about half complete. Several other buyers came months later to even out the age gap, and, collectively, we dominated Chandler Walk. We gathered our same age children and planned weekend house parties. Every house in the neighborhood had a different feature to enjoy, which ranged from a 3 hole golf course, custom in-ground pools, finished basements with a full bar, extraordinary fire pits, outdoor kitchens, or elaborate koi ponds. And we would rotate houses for the different entertainment. My husband and I learned early on that we would not only have to keep up with the Joneses, we would have to exceed them.
In 2006, we decided to expand because the current floor plan was not big enough. The current home was called a sprawling ranch because most of the living space was on one floor. There was a portion of the upstairs completed which included a full guest suite. There was a walk out attic that was unfinished that spanned the entire first floor. This area housed 3 central heating and air units, and extra storage. The main floor was my love. The entire right side of the home consisted of a gourmet kitchen open to a keeping room with a cozy fireplace and breakfast nook, and it is where we spent most of our time. The central part was called the ballroom because when we removed the formal living and dining furniture, it was the size of a dance floor. We tested this theory by hosting a wedding reception of 50 people with success. The left side contained 3 massive bedrooms, in which my toddler daughter occupied 2 of those rooms because one room was for sleeping and the other was for dressing. The enormous master bedroom had its own hallway creating a secret passage for retreat. There was a spa-like bathroom with soaking tub, glass enclosed shower with two shower heads and massage jets, and separate his and her vanities. We often pondered installing a morning coffee bar in the master closet because it was such a chore to walk across the ballroom to the kitchen.
Our expansion of the terrace level was the space of the entire main floor. My husband designed the empty space which required an engineer to move load bearing studs and install metal beams. This was necessary because the drawings included a home movie theatre for 16 people with stadium seating filled electronic recliners, and modeled after our favorite Broadway venue: The Fox Theatre. He included a full second kitchen, a billiard room, a 600 bottle wine cellar, and 3 more bedrooms. We imagined our wine cellar to look like the inside of a barrel and hired carpenters to install the wooden slats for a rounded ceiling. We had to purchase a pool table to fill the billiard room, but we didn’t play the game, so this piece of furniture was more often a buffet table for parties. My husband installed a state of the art automation system. I even had a little button next to my bedroom door that was simply called, “Goodnight”. When we were ready for bed, we pushed this button and the entire house would close up shop by locking all exterior doors, setting the alarm, lowering all the central air units, turning off all televisions or theatre, and slowly dimming the lights because I often forgot to grab a glass water from the kitchen before hitting the button.
By the time we had decided to sell our dream home, we basically had 2 homes within one. Effectively, we had 3 levels of nearly 6,000 square feet (557m2) of heated and cooled livable space, 7 bedrooms, 4.5 bathrooms, 2 full kitchens, and a bad ass pool. There were only 3 of us and 2 dogs living in that space. We even upgraded our vehicles, where my husband traded his modest SUV for an 8 seater Ford Excursion with extra length and automatic side steps. Normally, he was the only person in that car. The crazy part here is that if we didn’t sell the house and continued to live the American Dream, we had plans to add a separate 3rd car garage and pool house.
Looking back on this now, it was ridiculous. It was absurd.
Loosely Lucy 