I'm awakened early every morning by my neighbor boys whom, I estimate, are nine inches from my head. Their upstairs hallway and bathroom begin where my master bedroom ends, with only a thin wall between. I live in a middle unit of a four-plex in military housing. Officers quarters. Added onto in the past decade bringing the finished square footage up to around 1,600. My neighbors and I know when each other wake, take showers, run the dishwasher, do laundry, yell at the kids, listen to music, are cooking, go outside, and so much more. Our tiny yards blend seamlessly together as one. Our yards, littered with scooters, bikes, and wagons, and in which several neighbor kids, together, have created a "Native American village" using recycled materials, rope, and imagination, are where the unaccounted for square footage of our homes lays. If you think I am complaining, guess again. On the contrary, I have embraced communal living and the lessons it has taught me.

Lesson #1: Bigger is not better, unless it's a genuine necessity.
House Hunters on HGTV has been my source for extensive research on human attitudes toward shelter. The things that are now considered standard in a home, such as stainless steel appliances, granite counter tops, dual sinks and garden tub in the master bathroom, and walk-in closets which could double as horse stables in a pinch, leave me wondering how we, as a society, got to this point. I feel compelled to gag when a family of two has outgrown their 2,500-square-foot home and "needs" a four-bedroom, three-and-a-half bath with a bonus room, finished walk-out basement, four-car garage, and pool with a swim-up wet bar. Weren't our ancestors who came over the oceans penniless happy to squeeze into a small, crowded tenement room just for the chance to live in this great country? What shift has occurred in the American psyche to make us think we need bigger, better, more? What does a person really gain from that pursuit? Useless space, more debt, extra stuff to keep clean and organized which means more time spent maintaining it and less time doing meaningful things.


Lesson #2: Home is all about the people in and around it.
When my neighbors and I tend the yard, it becomes an event: Leaf raking, watering the grass, planting flowers are times for socializing. When there is a family member visiting, neighbors are introduced. When there is a backyard barbecue, it's all-inclusive. Inconveniences and disagreements are opportunities for growth. The neighbors are extended family. If we weren't so literally connected, I don't think we'd have such a bond. There is more incentive to get along and work things out in a communal living arrangement than there is for folks insulated in a large stand-alone home with a fenced yard. Are fences to keep people out or in? Sure they're convenient if you have a dog, I have a St. Bernard remember, but are they really necessary?

Lesson #3: Every home has potential.
I've had to pack up, unpack my house and put it all back together numerous times. Each home we've been handed has had challenges. I've learned to fix up, make do, put together, play up the positive, and move on. It's amazing how a little paint can change the look of a room, or new curtains, or moving the furniture around. Just watch my friends on HGTV! In the end, though, what really needs to change is perspective. As my dad likes to say, "Attitude is Everything!"