Dreaming Away The Puzzle
For more than half of my life I've lived here.
Exactly.
Right.
Here.
This house.
My bedroom
has been my bedroom
for about 20 years.
This is the house where I started....
the house I was brought home to
from the hospital when I was born.
I've been back for the last 6 years.
Sailor and I have owned it
for the last two.
I look in the backyard I still see horses.
They haven't been here for years,
but I see them... all the old friends.
Jasper, and Magic, and Beybarniko.
Copper, Smokey, Babe, Chalice, Lassie, Amber
Beau & Birdie,
Duke & Lady,
Rebel, Spud, Killer, Dynamite,
Cocoa (aka Marmot),
Buddy, Sunny, and Lady after Lady after Lady....
because a lot of horses get named "Lady".
The donkey Paco Taco Burrito I've Got Jellybeans
(My mom stopped letting me name the animals after that one).
The stagecoaches, the chariots, the miniature covered wagon,
the chuck wagon, the hay wagon,
the Victorian sleigh....
The old dogs...
Nikki and Springer and Peru,
the old cats....
Tiger and Fisher and Cecil and Planaria.
Guess which ones of those *I* named!
Mom left many of her cow skulls behind,
hanging on the barn
for ambiance.
We've been cleaning for 2 years, straight....
we figure we have 3 more years of this.
The house is an 850 square foot Chinese puzzle.
Move this,
so we can move that.
Sailor and I and our 50+ boxes of books.
My treadle sewing machine.
His jewelry bench.
My beading supplies.
His carving tools.
My fabric.
His wood.
We keep a bed for mom,
just in case.
Most weeks, we spend real amounts of time
dreaming about our next steps.
When we can build the outbuildings,
what we will do with them.
The fencing.
The outdoor shop.
Deconstructing the barn.
Building a smithy.
The indoor shops
(both hard and soft)
a laundry room.
A pergola,
a tree house.
Dream. Dream. Dream.
We have an acre, at least... to dream on.
Every couple months I say,
"Why don't we sell it?
Fuck this place!
Let's cash out,
rent awhile,
and BUY our dream house
rather than build it
brick-by-arduous-brick?"
Sailor sighs,
he is a permanent sort.
I sigh back,
I'm not.
I feel like I've lived here forever.
But there are blue skies on the horizon,
despite the small-box living.
Our patio went forward another step...
It's something like 15 feet high...
huge beams,
stark white,
the framing goes up little-by-little.
Sailor is an engineer and I love watching the beams go up.
250lb, 6"x8"x16' beam being lifted up and set in place
10 feet up in the air?
One manly man.
One handy helper.
2 pullies, 4 ropes.
MAGIC.
I watched the wild bunny snack on the lawn.... organic!
The doe and fawn haven't been back for awhile,
but the woodpecker is back for Spring.
I'm up for the grunt work,
but that won't stop me dreaming
of selling the place top-dollar
while the world goes crazy
to put a money dump into the bank account
and find something...
already dreamt up.
The other day I dreamed about an old school an acquaintance bought.
Last night talking about communes with friends.
We're all looking for an escape,
even the people who JUST BOUGHT HOUSES...
We all want to stay in the city area...
we don't want to move away,
but we all just feel... like we want to move, it seems.
Somewhere.
Somewhere... not here?
Currently-Still-Isolating-Almost-Post-COVID-Stress-Disorder?
CSIAPCSD?
Exactly.
Right.
Here.
This house.
My bedroom
has been my bedroom
for about 20 years.
This is the house where I started....
the house I was brought home to
from the hospital when I was born.
I've been back for the last 6 years.
Sailor and I have owned it
for the last two.
I look in the backyard I still see horses.
They haven't been here for years,
but I see them... all the old friends.
Jasper, and Magic, and Beybarniko.
Copper, Smokey, Babe, Chalice, Lassie, Amber
Beau & Birdie,
Duke & Lady,
Rebel, Spud, Killer, Dynamite,
Cocoa (aka Marmot),
Buddy, Sunny, and Lady after Lady after Lady....
because a lot of horses get named "Lady".
The donkey Paco Taco Burrito I've Got Jellybeans
(My mom stopped letting me name the animals after that one).
The stagecoaches, the chariots, the miniature covered wagon,
the chuck wagon, the hay wagon,
the Victorian sleigh....
The old dogs...
Nikki and Springer and Peru,
the old cats....
Tiger and Fisher and Cecil and Planaria.
Guess which ones of those *I* named!
Mom left many of her cow skulls behind,
hanging on the barn
for ambiance.
We've been cleaning for 2 years, straight....
we figure we have 3 more years of this.
The house is an 850 square foot Chinese puzzle.
Move this,
so we can move that.
Sailor and I and our 50+ boxes of books.
My treadle sewing machine.
His jewelry bench.
My beading supplies.
His carving tools.
My fabric.
His wood.
We keep a bed for mom,
just in case.
Most weeks, we spend real amounts of time
dreaming about our next steps.
When we can build the outbuildings,
what we will do with them.
The fencing.
The outdoor shop.
Deconstructing the barn.
Building a smithy.
The indoor shops
(both hard and soft)
a laundry room.
A pergola,
a tree house.
Dream. Dream. Dream.
We have an acre, at least... to dream on.
Every couple months I say,
"Why don't we sell it?
Fuck this place!
Let's cash out,
rent awhile,
and BUY our dream house
rather than build it
brick-by-arduous-brick?"
Sailor sighs,
he is a permanent sort.
I sigh back,
I'm not.
I feel like I've lived here forever.
But there are blue skies on the horizon,
despite the small-box living.
Our patio went forward another step...
It's something like 15 feet high...
huge beams,
stark white,
the framing goes up little-by-little.
Sailor is an engineer and I love watching the beams go up.
250lb, 6"x8"x16' beam being lifted up and set in place
10 feet up in the air?
One manly man.
One handy helper.
2 pullies, 4 ropes.
MAGIC.
I watched the wild bunny snack on the lawn.... organic!
The doe and fawn haven't been back for awhile,
but the woodpecker is back for Spring.
I'm up for the grunt work,
but that won't stop me dreaming
of selling the place top-dollar
while the world goes crazy
to put a money dump into the bank account
and find something...
already dreamt up.
The other day I dreamed about an old school an acquaintance bought.
Last night talking about communes with friends.
We're all looking for an escape,
even the people who JUST BOUGHT HOUSES...
We all want to stay in the city area...
we don't want to move away,
but we all just feel... like we want to move, it seems.
Somewhere.
Somewhere... not here?
Currently-Still-Isolating-Almost-Post-COVID-Stress-Disorder?
CSIAPCSD?