This house once belonged to a friend of the family. But they sold it before I was born, so I never had the pleasure of passing the threshold. It is tucked away in one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in Portland called the West Hills. I have always wondered about this home.
The housing market up in the West Hills is in the stratosphere, because the West Hills boasts some of the best views of downtown Portland with Mt. Hood holding court off in the distance.
This house is in walking distance of three of the most beautiful attractions in town: the Rose Garden, Japanese Garden, and my personal favorite: Forest Park. I can only imagine what it must be like to have that view and all three green spaces just outside your door.
This isn't exactly my dream house, it looks cold and drafty (a feeling that my mother confirms about the interior), but there is something intriguing about a house that once involved your family. I will always wonder what it looks like inside, but I am happy to keep those dreams in my head. For me, it is forever stuck in the 1920s - a la Great Gatsby and I don't think I could see it any other way.