Queen of Sweden rose by David Austin English Roses

Why Dunhaven Place? It's a question I have been asked more than a few times. Not only is it the name of my blog, but it is also my eBay user name and part of my email address for the past six or seven years. In reality, they are all just an echo of the real Dunhaven Place; my home.

The English have a lovely tradition of giving their houses some kind of sobriquet that reflects it’s nature. A house with many elm trees might be The Elms or one with a dominant stand of cottonwoods might be simply "Cottonwoods". Some can get a bit more fanciful with names such as Leaf on Green, the actual name of my brother in law’s actual college domicile, a leaf green house surrounded by actual lawn. Love it! Adore it! The Aerie was the name of our three level condo in Southern California, much of which was visible from our 17 windows. (Or, at least it would have been if so many other three- level condos weren’t right in the way of our grand view. )

Try as I might, The Aerie wasn’t a big hit. And I would try. “Let’s go back to The Aerie,” I would announce after having been away somewhere, usually the beach or some other heavenly SoCal location. I’d get nothing back but blank stares. “Okay, you guys, The Aerie is our house. You know, the tall one with all the windows? Like an eagles nest . . . we’ve been over this before.” Still, I’d get nothing.

Back home in Northern California, we have lived in three homes in the past nine years. All of them have been Dunhaven Place. I am the only one who thinks of it that way but since I am pretty much inundated with the name (Dunhaven is also the brand name of an anniversary clock I received as a wedding gift, one of the few surviving these many years, as well as the name of a house in a novel I wrote 17 years ago, a detail I had completely forgotten until I dragged it out to reread the other day) I don’t worry so much about the fact that no one else gives a poop about the whole thing.

But what, pray tell, does it all mean? some might ask. In fact, some do. Have. Will. The fact is, dunhaven is a celtic word for heavenly home. I always hastily assure people that it’s the goal, not the reality. At least, not much of the time. The trouble is, a heavenly home requires, in my mind, three things, peace, order and beauty.

Ah, peace! I remember it well. It is something that occurred frequently before I had children. It still happens somewhere during the middle of the night but I am usually asleep.

Order—heaven knows I try.

Beauty—now there is something I can sink my teeth into. I can do something about beauty and it can STAY DONE (a mother’s imperative) as long as it is easily washable, up too high for the kids to reach or the dog to lick.

For my home to be heavenly it requires the following:

A place to read . . .

One for her and one for him. . . .

Colors that make your heart sing . . .

and sing some more . . .

art of all kinds . . .

a country English garden . . .(or close approximation)

Many, many, books, old and new . . .

A place to go . . . .

A place to be . . .

This beautiful chandelier is not crystal or glass--it's plastic!

The best of the present . . ..

and the best of the past . . . .

Roses everywhere . . .

I mean, absolutely everywhere!

(I wasn't kidding . . . )

There must be sparkle . . .

Serenity . . .

Antiques . . . .

Pictures that cause the eye to linger . . .

Many cushy pillows . . . .

Much warmth . . .

All sorts of light . . .

Including some that glow . . ..

Roses seen from every window in the house . . .

Every single . . . .

. . . one--it makes me happy!

And last, a cute puppy that is color coordinated to match your decor.