I have many dreams, including to be able to write and freelance edit and support myself from the money I make. I’d live out in the country, surrounded by trees, at the end of a lane. My house wouldn’t be anything excessive; it would be a log cabin with a open floor plan, sun room with a loft office, basement for weather and storage, master suite, guest room, and garage. Wine cooler. Fireplace.Farm sink. Yoga room. A view. A walk-in closet. Wide stairs to the basement. Spiral stairs to the loft, or a pulley system and a draw-bridge thing. Dumbwaiter.
I couldn’t live too far out of town; I’d need internet to communicate to clients. A nice spot in-between town and country. A pretend isolation. Pseudo-isolation.
I wouldn’t have to dress up every day, and probably wear pajamas or sweat and t-shirts. House shoes or barefoot. Loyal hounds to keep me company. Maybe a spouse, who knows?
I’d have to stock up on groceries. I have an uncle who goes to the store once a month. I’d have to do some serious meal planning. I’d need supplies in case something broke or the power went out. A generator. Hammer, screwdriver, other such tools…a lawnmower. Or…I could hire the neighbor boy, or some kid in need of money to do the yard work, like clean the gutters and mow the grass and power-wash the sides of the house. Or, I could be the creepy author who lets the outside of the house look like it’s haunted and keep the inside nice and clean.Hang a motor from a tree…robber deterrent.
It sounds awesome, but I know myself. I’d get lonely, even with five dogs. I’d need people interaction, more than just the once a month trip to the store.
Who knows? It’s a dream in progress, a DIP. I’ve got plenty of DIPS.
Beatrice B. Morgan 