|Not the house. Just one I found on google.|
I am a country girl. Through and through.
Jeffrey and I took our kids to Antelope Island a few weeks ago (more on that to come) and I couldn't stop smiling. I wanted to run out in the brush with a book and a blanket and relax under that turquoise sky and loose myself in a story or deep reflection.
I am also an extrovert. I love to be surrounded by people. But when I am out in nature like that, I prefer solitude. I want to be alone with my thoughts and my feelings because something about the raw form of nature turns me inside out and intensifies all my emotions. And the great outdoors always make my emotions happy. So extremely intensified happy feelings, and peace and tranquility become my constant mood when I am in the great out of doors.
And so, imagine my blissful state when Jeffrey and I stumbled upon a house for sale that is big enough, cheap enough and completely embedded in the country. It is next to a dairy farm (and I don't mind that smell. I grew up with it. My family owned a dairy farm here in the town that has turned into a city since my childhood.), and down a dirt road. There is very little traffic, even less pollution, and farms as far as the eye can see. The beautiful house has a building that may have once been a chicken coop in the back yard, but now could easily be turned into a play house for the children. There is a barn/garage right next to it that is two cars deep and three cars wide with a gigantic loft in the top. There is a cellar. There is a well. There is a clothes line and fruit trees and magnificent storms and sun sets...
And there is extensive damage to the roof.
Meaning in places there is no roof.
Meaning there is a ridiculous amount of water damage.
The floor has caved in in some places.
Meaning a fireman pole could be placed to go from one story to the other for quick travel between floors... in several rooms.
The kitchen is absolutely backwards.
There are possibly cracks in the foundation.
The electric wiring is from the 1940's, so that would need to be updated as well...
But there is a wood burning stove, and a porch, and such cheerful buttercups all around the house. There are two window seats, and a formal dining room, and an antique mint colored stove (by antique I mean there had to be a fire in it to get things to cook, I am guessing from the early 1900's) just thrown to the side next to the garage. I would love to use that as storage for my craft things. And a very very old mailbox that would be darling as a planter in the front yard (possibly from the 1930's).
I am in such a state of fluctuating emotions right now. I think I am a lot like Anne Shirley. Marilla once told her that she builds castles so high in the sky which result in such hard falls back down to reality. I know buying the property and fixing the house may be too expensive for us. But not buying the property will bring such disappointment.
I don't even want to look at other houses now.
I don't want to live anywhere else.
I want to live there and raise my family there.
Grow old there.
The location and house are a manifestation of my dreams. The day before we found the property I fell asleep smiling. I had been dreaming of a day in the future. We were in our own house. Dinner had been cleaned up, the kids were in bed sleeping, and Jeffrey and I were on the front porch with a warm breeze blowing. The sun had set the sky on fire in that brilliant pink orange that is typical of summer sunsets here. I was lazily working on something (possibly some sort of craft) while Jeffrey was busy on his computer. I was happy and content in ways I cannot put words to. Everything was so perfect.
I don't want a house in a neighborhood. I don't want to live in the city.
I want lots of room for exploration and running around. For skinned knees and healthy fresh air. I want the smell of fresh baked bread, clean linen and the musty fresh plant smell to permeate my house. The apple blossoms to adorn my table accented by the cheery buttercups...
The cozy smell and warmth of a wood burning stove in the winter, with frost biting the windows. I want to look out my window and see scenery that could have been taken out of a story book. I want to imagine going out with a muff around my hands and a thick blanket over my lap in a horse drawn sleigh. I want to see my children's tracks in the snow and not worry about them getting hit by a car. Or strangers wandering down the small dirt road to take them away from me.
I am a dreamer.
Perhaps it is to my determent.
But right now, just dreaming about the possibilities is making me happy. I refuse to entertain the thought that it is not an option. When that time comes... I will surround myself with Jane Austen, cocoa, and....
I am not going to think about that. Because I am determined to make it work. That house is my dream, and I will work as hard as I possibly can to make that dream come true.