the american foursquare

clearing space to find my home

The day we bought the house in suburban Pennsylvania, our realtor told us, “Congratulations. You’re now part of the American Dream”. The words sat in the air, leaving a phony distaste in my mouth. The papers were signed, the money was transferred, and we were the proud owners of 2,961 square feet of plaster walls and good wood floors. My particular white-picket dream was on a quiet street filled with families and kids. The sprawling, giant backyard had so much potential. I envisioned parties on the big wrap-around porch. There was even a claw foot tub in a pink bathroom. It was old and needed cosmetic work, but it was filled with possibility, and I was eager to create something beautiful.