Who dreams of houses anyway?

I had a liquid dream last night. It was one of those dreams where I almost feel like I'm looking out of a floating fish bowl but less blurry. The dream really didn't have a point. It was just me getting a view of my old house. I've only lived in two houses with my family and the last one was for 13 years. It was a beautiful Tudor house of about a hundred years in age. The dream started at the top of my house in the bedrooms and went down to the main floor. Though it was blurry, I could still remember in stark detail exactly how the house looked, until I got to the den. I could remember most of how the den looked except for the window in the den that looked on the pool. It was as though that was the only thing that was blurred in my memory as well as in my vision. I realized that when I woke up in the morning I still couldn't remember how that window looked. I asked my sister and, after her talking about how much she used to love watching Baywatch in the den (freak), she realized that it was blurry for her, too. Everything else was crystal clear but that window was a blur. It's strange how you can only be gone from a place you knew for almost three quarters of your life for five years and it begins to fade in the strangest ways.