Our house is a brick Tudor, and since we bought it, I've learned that it's apparently THE dream house style for many people. The solidity, the old-fashionedness, the charm of the brick -- people tell me all the time that they just love it. I suppose it helps that we're on a block with plenty of them, so it's kind of like a march of tall, brick homes, which admittedly looks pretty cool together.
But secretly, my dream house is a goofy suburban ranch house, which reminds me of my childhood in the suburbs, and also of every day I spent watching 1970s TV. I love the way they just flop out on a lot, as if they never even thought to build up, because there was so much room they could just go out. When I married Rob and we started visiting his family in California frequently, I asked him why so many homes didn't have second stories there, and pretty much the answer seemed to be they preferred to just go long.
There's a ranch house on a corner near us that looks like a house Rob's childhood friend lives in. I love the house, and when we drive by it, I always call it "my house." If it ever goes on the market, while I doubt we'd buy it, I am SO THERE at the open house to finally see inside.
So Atomic Ranch magazine is something I should perhaps check into.