My ideal home is a small cottage made of local stone, with a chimney jutting out of a dark, shingled roof. A Dutch-style front door would be almost always open to the good weather, season permitting. It would be cherry red and always open for friends. The floors would be made of wood. Perfect for sock skating and for laying down upon a plush rug in front of the massive hearth around the fireplace. The fireplace would be wood burning and cooking-functional, in a perfect world.

A guest room would double as a craft room, with a closet of relatively organized crafting supplies. A guest bath would have a lovely shower and a toilet. Homemade blankets would bedeck every couch, chair, and bed.

Speaking of beds, the master bedroom would have its own en suite bathroom, with a tub big enough for me to enjoy a good bath. And the master bedroom would be my little nest of blankets, pillows, and comfort items.

It would be a home. Mine and mine alone, even if I share it with Mellon or another hypothetical potential future partner.

Bookshelves with books and dust catchers, cat hair needing to be swept up once a week, and a garden that I barely have to do anything to (maybe I have a gardener, maybe I have my own Samwise Gamgee to tend it!) have it grow well.

Home is what I want more than anything.