Your House, My Home

Your house is perfect, always spotless with no place for dust to hide. Your house is beautiful, with its ancient paintings lining the hallway. Your house is lovely, everything colour coordinated with the season. Your house is dainty, soft petals lining the window sill. Your house … is a house.

My house is rickety. You can’t play a game of marbles on the floor. They escape, racing towards the other end of the house. The lucky ones that survive the craters in the floorboards always manage to pop out onto the veranda and drop off the edge of the earth.
It is impossible to get a late night snack from the kitchen. First you must dodge the old stool that holds the stove door in place, if you succeed, you must then guide your way over the numerous trays and buckets that are often left out in case of rain. A special note to those who wear socks to bed, the tin that covers the broken boards will seize your precious threads. Lets imagine that you are now safely in the kitchen. What to eat? You’ve got a lovely choice of half eaten peach, or perhaps a ten centimeter banana? If you are feeling up to a venture, there’s always the option of the outdoor fridge where the poor cow that broke its leg now lies.

My house is anti-technology. If you are going to have a frozen pie for dinner, this must be decided early. It can’t be left as one of those ‘oh what to do for dinner … I’ll have a quick and easy pie’ scenarios. The pie can turn from an afternoon snack to dinner or from dinner to a midnight snack. As you’ve guessed, microwaves are not my house friendly. There are good aspects of having an old gas oven though. You get caught in a blackout, the oven will still work! You might wonder what would happen if the gas runs out in the middle of the blackout? Well for those occasions the open fire with iron pot hook is always available!
It’s not just the absent microwave, the telephone has caused its fair share of troubles. Being attached to the wall may mean that unlike all the phones that get stuck in the lounge cushions, it won’t get lost. This however, has proved to be a ploy. You may have to search for the phone if your father was talking to his mother the night before. It is apparent that a decent way to hang up is by pulling the phone cord from the wall and throwing it into the paddock. If alternately this doesn’t work, try tapping the receiver to the wall so that a relatively large hole is made. If your father’s mother still doesn’t get the hint, the phone can then be stuffed into the wall and covered by a lovely Aboriginal design of a lizard.

My house is everything. You can scream at the spiders in the outdoor dunny or the fact that snakes tend to find their way into the toy room. You can laugh at the mantelpiece that stands out of place or the horsehair that escapes from the walls. But all of this, every last bit of it, makes it my home.

Your House, My Home

Maggie Cooper

Brundee, Australia

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Artist's Description

This is a true outlook on my home, nothing has been exaggerated! It’s original, unique and I wouldn’t change it for anything.

Artwork Comments

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  • Maggie Cooper
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