rockstar diaries (as I sometimes do toward the end of the day...) and the photo of her family's garden gave me pause. The guy and I have been chatting nonchalantly about living plans after this year's sudden lease is up next year, and it's had me thinking more and more where I want to find myself next. Maybe you can blame it on the longest acres, but I want to live on a farm. I don't think I could tend to a fully functional farm (read: animals and barns and feed), but I'd love to start heading that way. I want to live on a big piece of land with a wrap-around porch and a place to plant a garden. I want gravel paths and woods out back to explore. And what's strangest about it all is that I'm pretty much describing my parents' home in Georgia, where I am almost certain I will never end up.
Mike keeps teasing me for not wanting to live in a subdivision (his response: "It's called a neighborhood."), but I think I just want space after all of this city living. This is not to say I won't miss Cambridge with all of my heart, but I think some parts of me have always known I'll end up somewhere quiet, where thoughts are plentiful and a slower way of life trumps public transportation any day. Here's to dreaming.
Photo from longest acres