My Future House
I’ve had recurring dreams in my life of a few different things – marrying a man wearing a kilt, sneaking up behind the man I marry while he does dishes and wrapping my arms around his chest, waking up in a white bedroom with the sound of water out my window, reading on a deck and letting my tea cool in the crisp air while looking out at the water – there are more, but you don’t need to hear the one about clowns.
Anyway, I one day got the strangest urge to look up houses for sale, price unimportant, in very specific parts of the world. The house I found took my breath away.
This is the house. The one from my dream. The white bedroom is there, the attic writing space is there, and yes – this is my deck.
I’ll invite you over for a BBQ when my kilted husband and I move in, if you can get past my snuggling him while he does dishes.
And since this is my writing blog, here’s the attic writing space I referred to… Tell me you don’t wanna come over.