Somewhere That's Green

Think what you will, but sometimes I catch myself day dreaming of a house that doesn't exist anywhere but in my own head. My dream house, if you will. Just like Audrey in Little Shop of Horrors.

It looks something like this:

It's either quite large (like an old farm house) or quite tiny (like an English cottage.) The exterior is yellow.

It has a wrap-around porch filled with Adirondack chairs.

The garden has at least one Weeping Willow, one Weeping Cherry and one Maple tree. There is plenty of room for me to plant flower beds, place bird feeders and hang wind chimes that sing to me as I prune the rose bushes.

At least one room in the house is decorated in a true Hampton's style with white-washed furniture covered in lovely blue and white floral and plaid fabrics.

There is a mud room. In it sits a distressed wooden bench, a pair of little dirty boots that belong to my daughter, big dirty boots that belong to my husband and a green and blue plaid leash that belongs to my Golden Retriever.

I have antiques tucked here and there throughout the home. There are lots of cushions to cuddle with, lamps to read by and there is always something cooking on the stove.

And I go to bed, in crisp white sheets, knowing life in this home is good.

In the tract house that we share, somewhere that's green...