Sometimes I don’t make the bed. I don’t see the point in making it pretty every darned day for literally no one to see. Many days I don’t even see it myself until I pull the covers down to climb back into it.
Man I miss this bedroom. It’s my old bedroom from my last house and it was spacious, soothing, quiet, with just the right amount of natural light coming in. I am reminded by this picture of many years where my hubby traveled and I slept alone in this big bed. Making it was simple – pull up the covers on my side and walk away. Continue reading
Where does a dream begin? How does it develop into something one must pursue? Is it ever too late to take action on pursuing this dream?
I’ve had a dream my whole life — literally as far back as I can remember. This is Part 1 of my farm dream story:
As a kid growing up in the Los Angeles suburbs I longed to live on a farm with horses. Corrals, pastures, wide open spaces to ride off alone, just me and my equine best friend, was what I dreamed of nearly every day of my life. I don’t know why or even where this idea came from because I hadn’t been exposed to horses or farms, except on TV. I knew kids who would visit their relatives on farms – always in the Midwest, it seemed. Eventually I married one of those kids. Continue reading