I so desperately want a house. A real house. A washer/dryer. A place to hide the litter box. A space to spread out and sew. A room to play the guitar and close the door. A spot for a little piano. A large kitchen with reachable storage for pots and pans. Big windows for the kitties during the day.
Sometimes I forget that I’m only 22. I suppose I have my entire life ahead of me for big girl things like houses. Still, in my head, I have an image of how I would love my future home to be. Small, cozy, warm, open, exposed wooden beams in the high ceilings, brick, weathered leather, worn in wooden furniture…minimal but with small personal touches such as vintage porcelain lamp posts, musical instruments from around the world, B&W pictures of my parents and grandparents when they were young, and handmade afghans. I’m such a grandma, but doesn’t that sound perfect?