House in The Presidio

What would I miss about my house?

Being upstairs at the desk during the day, looking out the window and seeing little birds on the roof that hangs over the sunroom below and the GG Bridge in the distance.

Sitting with Lea Ann in one of the two green chairs downstairs in the morning and the evening.

Knowing she has her rooms and I have mine, and that there's a room to sleep in together.

The front door and the back door, that they each present an actual sense of arrival.

I'd miss what else was done well here, the levels that distribute areas for people to be together and to be separate so artfully, and without using more space than they actually need.

The little oddities, the hardwood floors, the black-and-white retro tiles in the bathroom, the small horizontal pane of glass above the front door, the oval brass door handles, the ornate molding around the openings.

I'd miss the sunroom, that's a room unto itself and has six windows all to itself.

And the attic that's big enough for me to stand up in and jump as high as I can, where I put everything I don't presently need but can't quite bring myself to throw away.

The wood banisters and the staircase that leads upstairs and downstairs; I'd miss them too.