I'm 3.2 miles closer to work now. there is a garage and a basketball hoop and a tree full of wind chimes. and we have a sunroom. but I'm going to convince everyone to call it the conservatory. is that okay? who doesn't want a house with a conservatory in it? we could stage our own live-action version of Clue now, couldn't we? dear littlest brother: let's.
I wouldn't call this new house just another terracotta pot for my life... but some people might. I've been replanted so many times now, it hardly matters anyway.
my zip code has changed by one measly number, right at the end. will that be good enough? will this slight rearrangement suffice to soothe my restlessness? or will I remain beset by rather crazy urges to run away to Baltimore? or England or China or Idaho or Canada or New York or wherever?
better questions might in fact be: will I still, despite this perfect opportunity to start over and redraw the map I'm supposedly following, be afraid to do all the things I really want to do? will there still, despite this chance to re-evaluate and resolve, be a million what ifs doing their best to hold me back?
4.2 miles is not very far. I don't think it's far enough to kill the what ifs.
2 comments:
We have a sun room, which could once have almost passed as a conservatory, but which is generally referred to as 'the garden room'. It's nowhere near as impressive or spacious as yours though.
aw. :)
we even have tree in the corner of ours, but i didn't get a picture of it. it's shedding its leaves at the moment. i suppose i should sweep them up at some point.
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