Grand Beautiful Living Spaces, and the fact that I don't have one
Last summer, I housesat at a beautiful farmhouse in East Knoxville.
The icing on the cake was that part of the job was dogsitting for a hearing impaired dog...
...which meant we communicated using sign language.
I didn't really master this (you try communicating using sign language when a dog is running away from you), but I did have fun throwing up the sign that signified "Let's go home!"
Ask me to do it for you the next time you see me. It'll be funny, I promise.
She was pretty cute, and the house and land were magical.
Right now, I live alone. Well, there's Juicy. And I don't have people over a lot. I'd like to, though, but it's just too easy not to.
I was lying on my couch the other day, listening to my ipod (that just decided to start working again after six months), Juicy catatonic** next to me, except for her purring. I was looking at all the things I've collected, all the pretty old things my family has given me, all the art I've received through trades, all the beautiful pieces I've found at thrift stores, confined in that tiny space.
I thought about all the struggles so many of my married friends have had. It made me sad and grateful.
Why do I dream about these spaces? I can only hope that it means one day I'll have one, to accommodate the people I love, and those that need it.
*Note that both of these places have secret underground rooms, something I've always felt the need for.
**it's a pun!!
The icing on the cake was that part of the job was dogsitting for a hearing impaired dog...
...which meant we communicated using sign language.
I didn't really master this (you try communicating using sign language when a dog is running away from you), but I did have fun throwing up the sign that signified "Let's go home!"
Ask me to do it for you the next time you see me. It'll be funny, I promise.
She was pretty cute, and the house and land were magical.
What is a recurring dream exactly? I don't know if I have them, but I have many that share one or two different themes. I had one last night in fact.
I owned this beautiful old house with high-ceilinged walls. Not just beautiful- grand. The lighting from my very expensive chandeliers was romantic and moody. The whole place felt warm and my furniture soft. I had people over to watch a movie that made me think of Anne of Avonlea on my large flat screen. I lived next door to my friend Amelia, who lived in a similar house, and she came over, to sit in this big comfortable armchair, to rest, because that was the type of home I lived in.
I dream about living in grand beautiful spaces a lot- places that remind me of Wayne Manor or the house in Casper*, but the difference is that the spaces are full of people.
Right now, I live alone. Well, there's Juicy. And I don't have people over a lot. I'd like to, though, but it's just too easy not to.
I was lying on my couch the other day, listening to my ipod (that just decided to start working again after six months), Juicy catatonic** next to me, except for her purring. I was looking at all the things I've collected, all the pretty old things my family has given me, all the art I've received through trades, all the beautiful pieces I've found at thrift stores, confined in that tiny space.
I thought about all the struggles so many of my married friends have had. It made me sad and grateful.
Why do I dream about these spaces? I can only hope that it means one day I'll have one, to accommodate the people I love, and those that need it.
*Note that both of these places have secret underground rooms, something I've always felt the need for.
**it's a pun!!