The post in which I ramble about my dream house

Lately I've spent a fair amount of time admiring, and truth be told, pining for other people's stuff. Their new house or farm or bedroom or studio.

I begin by perusing blogs. Then, slowly but surely, I disappear into Fantasia (my eyes gloss over and I might, perhaps, even drool a bit).

In Fantasia the Peculiar family lives on a small farm. There are chickens and cows and goats and pigs. We wander daily through the huge maple forest behind our house. In the winter we tap the trees and make our own syrup.

We support ourselves working from home; industry that doesn't require attention at 3:00 am. Out front, over the the left of the drive, is a small quirky outbuilding. It's our little vintage shop that is open every other weekend.

Our house, a remodeled farmhouse, has rustic wide plank wood floors and a wood burning stove. Each child has his or her own room. The edges and details are a bit worn - -in a shabby chic way. We love it; not to worry about the periodic nick or scratch -- it simply adds charm.

In the kitchen sits a large farmhouse table. We gather there often with family and friends, simple rustic food, wine and home brewed beer. Each year we host Thanksgiving. Friends often stay over -- sleeping in our cozy guest quarters.

Out back there's a lovely little garden shed -- reclaimed windows, barnwood siding and a tin roof. This is Mama's studio -- full of yarn and fabric and photographs. The kids love to lay on the oval rag rug and read while Mama works.

We have an apple orchard and pear trees. A plentiful vegetable garden is tucked behind a gorgeous wrought iron fence.

We aren't wealthy but we are content. We have everything we need.

Only there's one problem -- though I visit Fantasia often I don't actually live there. At least not yet. Until I procure the wherewithal to move to such a place I need to find contentment here, in the "real" world. I must seek satisfaction in laundry and dishes and our bumpy wood floor, with pet hair and doubled up rooms, a yellowing lawn, an overflowing garage and our short growing season.

On any given day I am relatively content. But not with everything. Lately I've been dreaming of space. Mama space. Just for me. A place to craft and set my stuff (rather than the kitchen table) Only where? This morning I figured it out.

You see we have a space, a nook really, that is terribly underutilized. It houses forlorn exercise equipment, a tv and a computer -- all of which will shortly be relocated. With my families blessing I am claiming this space as my own. And I have grand plans -- new flooring (on the cheap mind you), a robin's egg blue wall and a yellow formica crafting table. Yes. I have a lot of work ahead of me. But in the end, if I'm lucky, I'll have blurred the line between this world and Fantasia.

As Falcor said, "Never give up and good luck will find you." Oh I hope so! Indeed!

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