my itch for new scenery is at an all-time high.
hunkiest thinks i’m in need of a vacation, but the over-emoting actress in me believes the only way to quiet the feisty ants in my linen knickers is to pack up, traverse the continent, and order new home address labels.
i have a vision of our stomping ground to be:
i see grass and trees that when accompanied with the wind, pipe out the sounds of the ocean.
i see elated, open-mouthed beasts skipping wild and silly over acres, so wide and far, fences are needless.
i smell heady, bold, coffee spiced with cinnamon, brewed hot, all day long.
i drink it from a porch big enough for ballroom dancing and bubble baths, where i never miss a sunrise or sunset; my refuge where i finally attack infinite jest and crow pose and catch up on years of sleep.
ok…..i’m already kinda bored.
maybe this will just be a vacation house.