Crib

A couple days ago, I had a chance to take a peek on a residence of somebody whom we might say is enjoying a "good" life. It felt as if I was in one of those TV programs touring amazing homes with amazing interior decoration, only I happen to know the people who own it in person. Heck, I even came across the patriach's self-written autobiography in the 'net last night.

The 2-story mansion has 4 bedrooms, a formal living and a formal dining area, a family area, a kitchen, a game room, a fitness room, an upstair patio, a downstair deck, a big study, and a 3-car garage. The master bedroom's walk-in closet can easily be turned into a bedroom. In the bathroom, we'll see white towels with the patriach's monogram. All over, we'll bump into cabinets ensigned with the initial of the family's name, it looks like a Greenbay Packer symbol, btw.

The family room has an open bar equipped with an ice maker and a cabinet full of expensive liquors. The wine glasses are embelished with the family's gonfalonic symbol. A cello standing nicely on a corner of the room. On the wall, hanged a painting of the family's ancestor, a high ranking military man who had a role on Simon Bolivar's leading South American countries into independence from Spain. Oh and I forgot, there is an elevator in the house!

It's not the house's extravagant yet functional encounters that catch my attention. It's the devotion to the family and the struggles these people have endured to achieve all of those life goals and dreams. I swear you could feel them boldly fill in the air up there.

A fine example for a stranger living in a strange land.