i have no "zone" inside my house. it is a damned museum.
i had to put up a building north of the chicken coop (actual some itinerant Mennonites built it for me) just so i could put a couch out there, as i get holy hell for laying on the couch in the house, an essentially prohibited behavior.
We even eat off of frickin' antique dishes, have a house dog that requires dog haircuts, eat bruschetti crap, and i had to put in granite countertops and antique fixtures... in other words, as you can imagine, i have not taken to domestication easily. However, my stomach has, as she is a gourmet cook.
I think everyone needs an outside clubhouse with a beer fridge and snap-on tool calendars that show everything their models have to offer. But not in the parlor. The parlor is stocked with martha stewart books and huge houseplants reminiscent of a Jurassic scene... in other words, there isn't a square inch inside the house that is under my direct control or supervision. which is fine, on cleaning day anyway...LOL
