Dreaming little dreams.

I have this problem that right about when it’s time to be falling asleep, connecting with dreamland, I get antsy. Or creative, or I have an idea. Lately my go-to has been looking at places for rent that keeps me from going insane here. It is time for us to venture out on our own again. Not necessarily without some housemates, but I am ready for our own furniture again, the comfort of our dishes that we bought together in our first apartment, the mugs of hot chocolate that got us through very, very cold winters, and a home that says people in their mid-twenties live here, not retirees. I am ready to schedule meals around the veggies that we once grew in our garden, I am ready to garden again. I am ready to prepare meals for friends again, and ready to keep the house below 75 degrees. I need to keep this thought alive so that I can keep caring for my grandparents as lovingly as I can muster, making plans to make sure I don’t do this forever.

Putting it out into the universe,dreamingofhome

I envision a home somewhat close to where we live, which we may share with laid back people closer to our age, perhaps a kiddo or two in the mix, space for a garden and a kitchen to share lots of meals. I envision a house that we may grow in for the next few years, a place to call our home. A place where my wife can feel free to play music with other musicians or on her own, a place like the co-op I once grew up in. Meals shared from gardens, music shared through time, art from the residents. I’m making this place-holder here. Where I am free to daydream.

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