Wednesday, January 12, 2011

If I Were My Own Realtor...

The minute I bought my house, I started making it my home. I added Dutch doors, bloomed a lush backyard wonderland complete with a vegetable garden, hammocks, twinkly lights, and low-slung loungers, painted chalkboard walls, and even removed a wall or two so that sunlight could flood the house more easily.

But there's still more work to do.

I need a rooftop where I can dance with my someday babies to Van Morrison under the dinner-time sky. They'll be mesmerized by the sherbet sun as it heads off to sleep, and the way the wind's blowing by unending possibilities.

I need a kitchen made for blueberry pancakes and paper maché and a full vessel of anything you'd like to drink. The wide-planked wood floors would age beautifully with the help of plastic dress-up shoes and puppy nails that probably need to be trimmed. Again.

I'd add a bed big enough for Sunday morning cuddles and jumping monkeys and morning sunshine. I'd take rain, sleet, or snow, long as I could keep the cuddles and monkeys.

There would be napping spaces everywhere, right next to the snacking spaces, which would be close to the dancing spaces. Adjacent to the painting spaces.

Tell me what your home's missing, will you? And then we'll get to making sure all our wishes come true. Together.

My apologies for the lack of photo credits. I've been saving these images for inspiration for a very long time...can't you tell?